Robin Alexander - Murky Waters

Tristan nodded. “I’m so glad you like it. I love it here. It gets a little lonely sometimes, though.”

Tristan blushed at the admission that slipped from her mouth. It was the truth, however, and she wondered why admitting it to Claire came so easily. The woman standing before her had changed so much about her so quickly that she hardly noticed it. In the past, she would have never dreamed of inviting someone to her home, but she did it without thinking. Realizing that she was standing there with an awestruck expression on her face, Tristan struggled for something to say.

Just as Tristan opened her mouth to speak, a fuzzy bolt of cat lightning flew out of the nearby butterfly bushes. Tristan reached down and picked up the orange tiger-striped tabby cat. He gave her a few love nips and two licks to the chin and began to purr.

“Claire, I would like to introduce you to Ralph. He’s my patrol cat. He patrols the perimeter of the property, making sure all is well while I’m away.”

Claire laughed and scratched Ralph behind the ears. “So, you have a watch cat instead of a watch dog. How does he alert you to trouble?”

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Tristan stroked her protector lovingly. “He doesn’t alert me unless it’s too big for him to handle. That doesn’t happen very often, though. He’s one bad little dude.”

Claire found this funny. “What kind of security issues have you had out here?” Tristan began to explain the incident that had earned the cat his title. Ralph looked at Claire as though he was insulted that she doubted his skill. He jumped out of his owner’s arms to further investigate the new intruder. He circled her, sniffing her shoes, but shied away when she reached down to pet him.

“Earlier this spring, I was planting the vegetables. I was really into what I was doing, not paying much attention. Ralph ran up to me and started hissing. All the hair was standing on his back, head to tail. I thought he had gone crazy from the heat. I took a step back to go get him some water, and I saw what all the commotion was about. Three feet from where I was standing was a snake about four feet long. I killed it with the shovel. If not for Ralph, I may have been bitten. Hence, the title ‘patrol cat.’”

Ralph circled Claire’s feet, staring up at her as his beloved owner gave the details of his heroism, his facial expressions conveying what he thought. Yeah, take that, lady . Claire could not help but find humor in the story of the great rescue, but her laugh was cut short as the rain began in earnest. Tristan grabbed her by the hand and made a dash for the house. The orange tabby sped past them and waited at the back door for the slower bipeds.

Once inside, Tristan took Claire on a tour of the interior of the house. The décor was simple but tastefully done. Every room was impeccably neat. The entire house was devoid of dust down to the baseboards. Claire thought it odd when they came to one of the bedroom doors that was locked with a padlock. “Tristan, do you have a roommate?” Claire asked in confusion.

“That is kind of a storage room,” Tristan explained when she saw the bewildered look on her companion’s face. “I keep my dad’s belongings in there. I rarely ever go in. It reminds me too much of him, and I miss him all over again. I keep the lock on there because I still have his gun collection, and it would break my heart if it were stolen.

“How about you and Ralph get acquainted while I get dinner started? I’m going to make you one of my house specialties, and it 83

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takes a little while to cook. Once I get it under way, we can start watching some of the movies we rented.”

“Sounds great to me. Can I help you with anything?”

“No. Let me spoil you tonight, Claire. I don’t get the opportunity very often to spoil someone besides Ralph, and he isn’t nearly as cute as you are. Don’t tell him I said that, though. Would you like anything to drink?”

Claire blushed at the offhanded compliment and declined the drink offer. As Tristan disappeared into the kitchen, Claire wandered into the sunroom just off the main living area. Enjoying the tropical appeal of the room, a shiver made its way up her spine when she noticed all the open windows. All thoughts of the stalker had been pushed into the deep recesses of her mind until she entered that room and felt like she was on display.

Could someone have followed us here? she wondered to herself as she slowly backed out of the room. Feeling her heart rate kick into overdrive, she took deep breaths to get herself under control.

She had no desire to ruin what so far had been a perfect evening by freaking out and having to explain her behavior.

Instead, she tried to make herself comfortable on the living room sofa. She picked up the TV remote and surfed the channels for something to keep her occupied. Nothing grabbed her attention, and her thoughts drifted to the woman cooking her dinner. Her heart was warmed by the fact that Tristan wanted to spoil her, making her feel contentment and happiness she had not known in a long time.

She looked around the room, studying the surroundings. There were a few pictures scattered about of Tristan with a man Claire assumed was her father. There was none of her mother to be found. She ran her fingertips over the replicas of antique sailing ships that adorned the mantle over the fireplace, wondering what Tristan’s mother could have done to be excluded from her daughter’s life, aside from the fact that she was an asshole.

Her mind wandered as she stared at nothing in particular on the television. Movement caught the corner of Claire’s eye. She stared for a moment in that direction. Seeing nothing, she resumed her channel surfing. A minute later, an orange ball of fur came flying through the air and pounced on the remote that she was idly 84

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swinging. Claire leapt from the couch, screaming at the top of her lungs before she realized that it was Ralph.

Tristan ran into the room with a dishtowel slung over one shoulder and a wooden cooking spoon in her hand prepared to do battle. The furry culprit fled the scene of the crime before she could see him. Tristan found a very disheveled Claire standing in the middle of her living room.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Tristan pulled Claire into her embrace.

“I’m fine. Your patrol cat pounced on the TV remote. He scared me half to death. I haven’t been around cats much. Do they always do stuff like that?”

Tristan laughed. “I’m afraid so. That is kind of a cat’s way of getting to know you. He’s playing with you. If you dangle something in front of a feline, it will pounce.” Tristan had to hide her face as she returned to the kitchen to keep from laughing in front of Claire.

“Crazy-assed cat,” Claire murmured under her breath.

Claire rolled up a cable guide as she sat back down and waved it a little. “Come on, buddy, pounce this. I owe you one,” she said low enough for only the cat to hear. Ralph knew a trap when he saw one and stayed in his favorite hiding place under the couch.

After dinner was left to simmer, Tristan joined Claire on the sofa.

They spent the better part of the evening snuggled up together watching movies. Tristan served their dinner on the coffee table in front of the TV. Claire was delighted to eat a home-cooked meal, and the spicy fare was right up her alley. She was even more delighted that Tristan could cook so well, an attribute that ranked very high with her.

“Oh, my God! Tristan, this is delicious! What is it?”

Tristan blushed a little. “Sophisticated folks call it steak and gravy. We call it meat and gravy. We, meaning coon-asses.”