Shirley Murphy - Murphy_Shirley_Rousseau_Cat_Coming_Home_BookFi

It was six-thirty when she heard Jared getting up, heard the shower running. Rousing herself, she hurried back into the kitchen to heat the waffle iron, to get out the big pitcher of waffle batter she’d made the day before, the butter and syrup, and to put bacon on the grill. In the downstairs bath she washed her face, gargled some mouth-wash, and ran a comb through her hair. When Jared came down, she said nothing about the missing boxes. Just as, days earlier, she hadn’t mentioned the missing keys. Jared appeared in the kitchen showered and scrubbed, dressed in a fresh blue sport shirt and Dockers. Benny straggled down behind him yawning, still in his sailboat pajamas. They ate in comfortable silence, Jared reading the sports page, Maudie scanning another ugly editorial about the invasions, then turning to the home section, while Benny carefully distributed the butter and syrup evenly into each well of his waffle. He ate each quarter with equal concentration, as if even homemade waffles were a special treat. It was seven-thirty and they’d finished breakfast when Scotty arrived, parking his truck at the curb. Coming in, accepting a quick cup of coffee, he stood at the counter to drink it, avoiding the syrupy mess at the table, which made Maudie smile. Scotty’s bright blue work shirt made his red hair and beard blaze like flame. “Wanted to get in an hour’s work or so, before we begin pouring cement up at the cottage,” he said.

Jared grinned and rose, and the two men headed into the garage, Benny following. During the next hour, the child insisted on carrying heavy loads for such a little boy, but Maudie didn’t caution or scold, she knew the one thing Benny needed was to feel useful. The two of them had spent the previous afternoon, as Scotty finished up the painting and hardware and locks, baking cherry pies and apple tarts for the Damens’ potluck afternoon and evening that this year fell on the same Sunday as the village pageant. Benny was so excited about dinner at Ryan and Clyde’s house and all the events to follow: the reenactment, in the park, of the journey of Joseph and Mary; the choirs in the village streets; and, most of all, the wagon rides put on by half a dozen village horsemen, who would trailer their horses and haul the wagons into town for the event. The usually silent child had chattered nonstop as together they prepared the cherry filling and peeled the apples. In the warm, spice-scented kitchen, Benny had seemed almost to forget the nightmares that made him wake up screaming and continue shivering as she held and cuddled him.

In L.A., friends had told her she should take Benny to a therapist, but she didn’t want to do that; she didn’t like the idea of a stranger manipulating the child’s emotions. She would provide all the therapy she could, holding and loving Benny, getting him to join her in household tasks and encouraging new interests. Providing real sit-down meals and as much companionship as an old woman could give a little boy. Benny loved being in the kitchen with her; Pearl’s kitchen had been a cold, neglected place where the child had to make his own sandwiches and hope the milk wasn’t sour. Benny liked being with Ryan and Scotty, too, liked watching them at work. Under the watchful eye of Scotty and of Lori Reed, he was learning the proper use of the simpler carpentry tools, to drive a nail without smashing his thumb, to saw a board straight and easy.

Jared’s presence in the house was a help, too, and her nephew seemed to have taken a real interest in Benny. That morning, after they’d moved everything into the studio, Jared made sandwiches, packed a lunch, and took Benny with him to run errands, and for an impromptu picnic. She was sorry Jared couldn’t join them at the Damens’. He’d said, making a face, that his mother made it clear she had special plans.

Maudie, enjoying a little break and a moment of solitude, was sitting at the kitchen table with her own lunch and a cup of tea when Ryan came down the hill, pulling her truck into the drive. She had to smile as Ryan stepped out, and not only the big silver Weimaraner jumped out, but the gray tomcat, too, behaving almost like a small dog. She didn’t know what it was about that particular cat and his two friends, but Benny surely had taken to them.

Benny had never had a pet. Pearl didn’t like animals; she said they were dirty and that people simply wasted their money on useless beasts. Caroline and Martin had planned to get the three children a puppy for Christmas—another simple joy taken from them. She rose to let Ryan in. “Have you had lunch? Jared made chicken sandwiches, and there’s a pot of tea.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Ryan laid the final bill and the studio keys on the table. “I meant to go home and warm up a bowl of soup, but this is much nicer. You sure you want company?”

“I’d love the company. Bring Rock in, please.” She needn’t invite Joe Grey in, the tomcat was already stretched out on the stairs. “Rock’s such a lovely dog,” she said, stroking his sleek head. “We had Dobermans when the boys were growing up. Martin …” Her voice caught. “Martin was very good at training them, they had lovely manners. As does Rock,” she added. “Would you prefer coffee to tea?”

“The tea smells good,” Ryan said, glancing at the steaming ceramic teapot. “You are coming for dinner tomorrow? It will be casual, and there’ll be other children in and out, the younger officers’ children. Just a potluck buffet, and we’ll eat in relays when officers take their breaks or go off duty. The Harpers usually have it at the ranch, but with everyone on extra patrol, it makes more sense to have it at our place, where the men can move out faster.” She watched Maudie pour the tea. “You’re moving into the studio today?”

Maudie smiled. “The cartons are all moved. I’ve sent Jared and Benny on errands. Sometimes it’s easier to work alone, for unpacking and organizing.”

“And more satisfying,” Ryan said. “Organizing a creative work space should be a solitary occupation.” She studied Maudie, her green eyes questioning. “You’re upset about something?”

“I didn’t think it showed,” Maudie said. “This morning, I found a couple of boxes missing from the garage, Caroline’s things that I’d saved for Benny. I thought he might have taken them up to his room, but I’d already been through the room, cleaning. I expect they’ll turn up, but it’s puzzling. I … didn’t mention this to Jared,” she cautioned. She didn’t know why she’d mentioned it to Ryan. The moment she did, she was sorry. “Nothing else is missing,” she said quickly.

Ryan looked at her sternly. “You haven’t reported it to the police?”

“I would have,” she said quickly, “if I’d found anything else missing, or found where someone had broken in. I examined the garage door, all the doors and windows. There’s no sign of damage.”

“The police wouldn’t have to send out a patrol car. If you reported it, it would be on record. That would help in case anything more happens.” Ryan tried not to scold, but this was worrisome. Why this distaste for the police? “The department does have its hands full,” she said, “with these invasions, but certainly they’d take a report.”

“You’re not thinking there’s some connection?”

“Probably not,” Ryan said shortly. On the floor by her feet, Rock rolled over, sighing. But on the third step, Joe Grey watched Maudie with such keen interest that Ryan gave him a warning scowl.

Maudie said, “That’s why I didn’t call the police, because they are busy. I saw this morning’s Gazette … I wouldn’t have started taking it if I’d realized just how one-sided the paper is.” She passed the sandwich plate, seemed pleased when Ryan took another quarter-cut morsel. “I don’t remember this newspaper being that way, all the summers our family spent in the village when the boys were small.”