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Kelly smiles. “Nah. I think your favorite is waiting up for you.”
I look at the box and see three kittens curled up together in a ball while the tortoiseshell sits in front of them. It starts to meow the moment it sees me and paws at the air, wanting to be picked up. “You okay, little guy?” I crouch down and pick up the kitten, resting it on my chest. It keeps talking, then begins to purr.
“I think he just missed you. He’s quiet when you’re not here.”
“He does demand more attention than the others.”
“I don’t think that’s it. He’s not that way with me. I think the tortoiseshell is a one-person cat, and you’re his person.”
I’m on my third cup of coffee at my usual corner table in A.J.’s family deli. The Saturday morning rush finally ends and she moves out from behind the counter to join me, sliding an Italian pastry in front of me as she sits with her own cup of java. “You get any sleep last night?”
I shake my head. “Hell no. Couldn’t stop thinking about my big decision. Kittens versus Air Force One.”
“So the wheels are still spinnin’?”
“Yeah.”
“What direction are they going?”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Okay. What’s the story on the hot cop?”
“Rory already told you.”
“So, you gonna call him?”
“Huh?”
“I thought he gave you his card?”
“Yeah.” I reach in my purse and hand it to her.
She looks at it and rolls her eyes. “Marino. It figures.”
“What?”
“You guys get all the good paisans.”
“What do you mean, you guys?”
“You Irish girls. Italian men can’t resist you. They see the red hair and the freckles and it’s game over for the rest of us. You’re like their damn kryptonite.”
“Oh, stop it. You have men beating down your door.”
“All named Smith and Jones. I can’t ever find a good guy with a vowel at the end of his last name. So, you gonna call this cop, or what? You obviously like him.”
“You know I don’t call men.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did we miss the Sadie Hawkins dance? For God’s sake, it’s not nineteen-fifty. You can ask a guy out.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to do that.”
“You pick up the phone and say, Hey, I think you’re smoking hot and wanna jump your bones.”
“Very funny. Seriously, I’ve never asked a guy out for a date. I’m not sure I could do it. It’s a little scary for me.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re a network reporter, you take no prisoners with major politicians, you go on live television in front of millions of people, and you’re afraid to pick up the phone and call a guy?”
“The microphone and camera give me license to do all those things on TV. Without it … well … it’s just me.”
“Okay, so here’s what you do. Use a back door method of getting a date. You call the guy and tell him you want to thank him for saving you at the bar by cooking him dinner.”
“That might chase him away. You know I can burn a salad.”
“I’ll give you some simple recipes. Or how about this … I can simply box up some cannolis and you can drop by the police station to thank him personally. The precinct is right down the street from your house.”
I shake my head not wanting to deal with this right now. “I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah, right. Coward.” She starts clucking like a chicken.
I shove the pastry in my mouth, take a big bite and talk through the crumbs. “Leave me alone.”
“Of course, if you take the Air Force One thing, you can’t ask him out. He thinks a lot of you because you’re taking care of those kittens. How would it look if you ditched them?”
“I think ditched is a rather strong term.”
“You like abandoned better?”
“I don’t believe this is happening. I’m considering turning down the dream job of a lifetime because of a bunch of cats and a guy who might like me. And I’m actually conflicted about it.”
She flashes a big smile. “Yep. And I must tell you, this is fun to watch.”
“I’m glad you find my current situation so amusing.”
The bell above the door rings announcing a customer. A little blonde girl carrying a bunch of papers who is trailed by her mother moves toward our table. “Excuse me … I need some help.”
A.J. turns to the girl, who is maybe eight years old. “What can I do for you, sweetie?”
She hands each of us a sheet of paper. “Would it be okay if I put this in your window?”
What’s on the paper tugs at my heart.
LOST CAT
Our beloved cat, Snowflake, got out of the house and is missing. She’s an indoor cat and not used to taking care of herself. She’s all white with one blue eye and one green eye, is wearing a red collar and answers to her name. She is very friendly. If you see her please call.
Below that is a photo of the girl hugging the cat.
A.J. smiles at her. “Sure, honey, put it right on the front door.”
“Thank you.”
The mom thanks A.J. as the girl moves to the glass door and tapes the flyer on the inside. I can’t stop looking at the picture. “Poor kid, lost her pet.”
“Poor cat,” says A.J. “Not sure how long an indoor cat can survive outside.”
“Hopefully one of your customers will see her.”
As previously mentioned Tish is my most logical friend and the one whose advice I seek when I’m stuck. (Though I didn’t take it regarding Jeremy.) We’re both dateless tonight while A.J. and Rory are out, so we’re sharing a bottle of wine and binge watching Justified on Netflix. Watching Timothy Olyphant waste a bunch of dumb rednecks is an enjoyable pastime of ours. (Okay, even if he didn’t shoot anyone we’d watch. Mea culpa.)
A soft meow makes me hit the pause button as I see the kittens are up, with their spokesman the tortoiseshell announcing the arrival of feeding time. I look at the clock and see they’re right on schedule. “I think they can tell time.”
Tish laughs. “Their stomachs can. You want help?”
“Sure.” I bring the box into the kitchen and prepare the bottles as Tish takes a seat. “Honestly, I don’t know how people with babies do this for a couple of years. This is wearing me out. I have new respect for working moms. And moms in general.”
“Well, this is a good experience if you ever become a real mom, though that is a helluva lot harder. I remember helping my mom take care of my little sister.” She picks up a kitten and starts to stroke its fur. “Speaking of which, did you ever talk about having children with Jeremy?”
“Why are you bringing up he-who-must-not-be-named?”
“Just curious. Since your date at the wedding made it clear he didn’t like kids. I was just wondering since you were talking about marrying the guy. It’s an obvious subject for a couple to discuss.”
“Now that I think about it, Jeremy never really talked about it much. Then again neither did I. Our careers were pretty much dominating our lives.” I hand her a bottle while I sit and grab the tortoiseshell. Tish starts feeding her kitten while I do the same.
“And now?”
“You’re starting, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“Doing your lawyer thing where you ask a question when you already know the answer. I know all your tricks.”
“So you admit you’ve changed.”
“What, am I on the witness stand here? Stop cross-examining me. But yes, I’ve changed.”
“Isn’t it true that despite the lack of sleep you are enjoying taking care of these kittens?”
I don’t respond and look away.
“The witness is directed to answer the question. And may I remind her that she’s under oath.”
I shake my head and look back at her. “Fine. I like having them depend on me. And the way this one looks right into my heart …”
The kitten meows. I swear the furry little thing understands English.
Tish laughs. “I think we’ve just heard from the jury. You have been found guilty of caring.”
“So, you ever gonna give me your opinion on what I should do?”
“Asked and answered last night.”
“C’mon, Tish. I need help here.”
“Okay, fine. Sidebar. Let me ask you this. What’s the best story you ever did as a reporter?”
“That’s easy. The series I did on the veterans’ facility on Long Island that was run down.”
“Why do you consider that one your best?”
“Because it changed lives. The government got embarrassed and fixed the place up, the vets got the care they needed and the people who were embezzling funds are still in jail. And I felt really good after all that happened knowing I was responsible. I still have all the letters from veterans thanking me.”
“So, basically, would you agree that as a reporter the most important stories you do are the ones that make the world a better place?”
“Right. And I had to do a lot of old school journalism on that one. A ton of legwork and digging. I like investigative stuff. It’s like putting a really difficult puzzle together and you’re missing some pieces, but you can find them if you work hard.”
“And if you follow the President around on his campaign for a few months, will that take any investigative work?”
“Probably not. You’re part of a pool of reporters and just report what he does, get the best sound bites and do nightly live shots. I would ask strong questions, but the guy is a master at filibustering so you never get a straight answer. The odds of getting anything but his memorized talking points are slim.”
“Will your work on that assignment make the world a better place?”
I don’t answer as I look at the kitten.
“And will it make you a better person?”
I look up at her, my eyes a little wet. “I can see why you rarely lose a case.” I finish feeding the kitten, burp it, then pick up another one. “Tish, you know the worst thing about this decision?”
“No. What?”
“No matter what I choose, I’m going to feel bad about it. And always wonder if I did the right thing.”
“Something tells me you won’t.”
I finally get up around ten on Sunday morning, feeling like crap after too much wine and too little sleep. The middle of the night kitten feedings are catching up with me, but that will be over soon when they can feed themselves.
And of course, I still haven’t resolved my big dilemma.
A.J. made it worse throwing the cop into the mix.
Tish hit me with logic like a damn Vulcan on Star Trek.
Rory? She just gives me a look that tells me which way I should go.
A few weeks ago my life was simple. Decisions were easy. Black and white.
Now I’ve added gray and tortoiseshell and stripes into the equation.
