The Girl with the Kitten Tattoo

by Linda Reilly

  “I take it she was pretty, for lack of a better descriptor.”

  “Quite attractive,” Lara acknowledged.

  “I’m sure Gideon will tell you all about it when you talk to him later. Any plans for this evening?”

  On Fridays, Gideon and Lara often ate dinner out, and occasionally saw a movie. The weather tonight was not only frigid, but also the roads were supposed to be icing over. Driving anywhere would be dicey.

  “If we do, we won’t go far. Probably just to the Irish Stew. How about you?”

  Aunt Fran smiled. More and more, she reminded Lara of the actress Audrey Hepburn in her later years. “Jerry and I both decided we had plenty of things to catch up on at home, so we’re going it alone tonight.”

  Lara raised her eyebrows. “I noticed that you’ve been using your new laptop quite a bit these days. Projects for school?”

  Aunt Fran’s deteriorating knees had initially forced her to give up her teaching job, but when the school year started last fall, she returned as a substitute teacher.

  “A few,” her aunt said, a rosy blush tinting her cheeks. “I love subbing the classes with younger kids. I talk to them about ways to show respect for animals, and they really get excited by the discussion. Many of them ask about ways they can help.”

  “Anything else you’re doing on your laptop?” Lara teased. “I caught you a few times putting it away when I walked into the room.”

  For a long moment, her aunt was silent. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. I’m…well, I’m trying my hand at writing a book.”

  “A book?” Lara’s eyes widened. “Aunt Fran, I think that’s great. What kind of book?”

  “It’s a novel, about a young woman torn apart by the sudden loss of her husband. I know I never bring it up, Lara, but those few months I was married to Brian were probably the best ones of my life. His death shook me to the core. I didn’t know if I’d ever recover.”

  Sometimes Lara forgot about her aunt’s brief marriage. Aunt Fran never talked about Brian Clarkson, and she didn’t display any photos of him, not even in her bedroom.

  They’d eloped when Aunt Fran was a junior at UNH, working toward her teaching degree. Brian had already earned his master’s and was teaching middle school in a town near the campus. He’d been killed by a snowplow while helping a stranded motorist, shattering Aunt Fran’s short-lived joy.

  “I never really dealt with the grief after Brian’s death,” her aunt went on. “My no-nonsense mother had never approved of our getting married while I was still in school, and I had no one to mourn with me. Not properly, anyway. I suppressed my grief so that I could finish getting my degree.”

  Lara blinked back tears. “How is it coming along? The novel, I mean.”

  “Actually, it’s coming along decently. I’ve signed up for an online writing class, too.” Aunt Fran smiled. “I know I’ve got a long way to go before I let anyone read a word of it,” she added. “But the sheer act of putting words on paper, so to speak, has helped me tremendously.”

  “I hope you’ll let me read it someday.”

  “No worries there. You’re the first person I’ll show it to, but only after it’s polished.” Aunt Fran’s smile faded, and her expression grew pensive. “I’ve felt for a long time now, Lara, that everything happens for a reason. Writing this novel has helped me to see that.”

  Clutching Sienna to her chest, Lara went over and hugged her aunt. When she looked across the Formica table, she saw that a fluffy Ragdoll cat had claimed her seat. Her turquoise eyes half-closed, Blue rested her furry chin on the table.

  “I think someone else agrees with you,” Lara said, nodding toward her chair.

  “Blue?” Aunt Fran said with a smile.

  Again, Lara nodded.

  Aunt Fran, Gideon, and their shelter assistant, Kayla, were the only ones who knew about Lara’s spiritual guardian—the cat only Lara could see. Once a living, breathing feline, she’d passed on the day Lara was born—nearly thirty years earlier.

  As a child, Lara had been only vaguely aware of a blue-eyed cat who materialized whenever she felt sad or troubled. But as Lara grew older, she decided that the kitty she’d named Blue had simply been an imaginary friend. Since Lara’s return to Whisker Jog, Blue had been there when she needed her most, intervening when Lara’s life was at risk.

  She thought about her aunt’s statement. Everything happens for a reason.

  Did it apply to Gideon’s former girlfriend showing up, unannounced, on his doorstep?

  Lara didn’t know, but she intended to find out.

  Chapter 2

  “That shepherd’s pie was unreal,” Gideon said, after swallowing his last bite. He dabbed his napkin to his lips. “Did you like yours, honey?”

  “It was delicious,” Lara agreed. “Best version of that dish I’ve ever had.”

  The classic “cottage pie,” as it was known, had been prepared using beef tenderloin, prosciutto, and pearl onions, and topped with a port wine sauce. The chef at the Irish Stew had outdone herself. The new entrée outshone even her legendary beef stew. In spite of that, Lara hadn’t really tasted it much. Her mind was stuck on Gideon’s visitor. She couldn’t get her out of her head.

  “You seem quiet,” Gideon said. He reached over and took Lara’s free hand. “You okay?”

  Lara smiled and squeezed his hand. “I’m fine. A little distracted, I guess.”

  “Is it because of Megan?” he asked, shifting on his chair.

  Lara thought for a moment. “I guess it just took me by surprise, Gideon. You’ve never talked about old girlfriends before, except to say you had a few brief relationships that fizzled.”

  “As did you,” Gideon pointed out.

  It was during the ride to the Irish Stew that Lara had questioned Gideon about the mystery woman. He’d explained who Megan was, and how they met. His relationship with her had never gone past the friendship stage. A few lunches and dinners together had pretty much been the extent of it. While Gideon’s tone had sounded casual, Lara sensed that he’d felt uneasy talking about it.

  “I know.” Lara shrugged. “Your relationship with Megan just seems so…recent, I guess. It seems weird that you never mentioned it.”

  Gideon folded his napkin on the table. “Lara, I’ve never lied to you before, and I’m sure as heck not going to start now. I met Megan Haskell at the Registry of Deeds in Concord, well over a year before you came back to Whisker Jog. I was working on a nightmare of a title search, so I had to spend several days there. She worked as a paralegal for a Concord law firm and was doing research for a civil litigation case. We chatted a little every day, and then one day decided to have lunch at the Chinese restaurant across the street.”

  Lara swallowed. Did she really want to hear this?

  “We lived about an hour away from each other, so any dates we had were few. My schedule didn’t exactly leave me a lot of time to trek back and forth to Concord. After a few months, we sort of, you know, just drifted away from each other. It wasn’t even a breakup because there was nothing to break up from. It turned out that we didn’t have that much in common.”

  Lara got it. She really did. But why hadn’t Gideon ever mentioned Megan before? Even in passing, her name had never come up.

  “So now she lives in Bakewell, because she got laid off from the law firm.”

  Gideon blew out a quiet breath. “That’s right. She has an aunt and uncle there, so she moved in with them—just until she can afford her own place.”

  Bakewell was only a few towns away from Whisker Jog. A bit too close for comfort, in Lara’s opinion. She wondered when Megan had moved there.

  “And now she wants you to represent her?”

  “She does. For obvious reasons, I can’t discuss her issue.”

  Lara tied her knitted scarf around her neck. “So, are you?” she sa
id, a bit more sharply than she intended.

  “Am I what? Going to represent her?”

  Their server came by just then to collect their empty plates. “You guys want coffee?” she asked.

  “None for me,” Lara said.

  Gideon frowned, and Lara knew what he was thinking. They always had coffee after dinner.

  “Just the bill,” Gideon said. “Thanks.”

  After the server strode off, he said to Lara, “To answer your question, I’m not sure yet. I’m thinking of referring it out. I know a few people who’d be more than qualified to handle it.”

  Lara tugged on her jacket and looked over at Gideon, a sight that always made her heartbeat quicken. They’d been seeing each other for almost two years now. Their relationship had become so comfortable that somehow, it’d gotten stalled.

  There was a time when Lara thought Gideon wanted to become engaged. Although she knew she loved him, she’d also known then that she wasn’t ready. The shelter had just gotten off to a start, and Aunt Fran was still depending on her to keep it running. Lara also had her art projects—she was a watercolor artist by profession—and had clients to answer to.

  Excuses, excuses, she chided herself. None of that would have prevented her from getting married. It was the permanency of marriage itself that had held her back. She hadn’t been sure she was ready to take that final step.

  Gideon had clearly sensed her hesitation. Since then, he was careful never to utter the “m” word—marriage. But enough time had passed now. He should know.

  She was ready to make that commitment.

  “You’re staying at my place tonight, right?” Gideon asked her, once they were inside his car. He flicked on the ignition to warm up the engine.

  Normally, Friday nights at Gideon’s were a given. It was their private time, the one night a week they could count on being together. A night Lara looked forward to all week.

  “Maybe I’d better go home tonight,” Lara said, regretting the words even as she said them.

  He reached over and tucked a strand of her copper-colored hair into her collar. “Are you sure? Orca and Pearl will miss you. They haven’t seen you since last week.”

  Lara smiled at him in the darkness. He’d adopted the sibling cats from the shelter the prior summer, and the two kitties adored him. “I know. I’ll miss them, too. But maybe it’s better if I head home tonight. It’s been a long day.”

  Without another word, Gideon drove her home. She’d upset him, she knew, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. What was that saying? Cutting off her nose to spite her face?

  In her heart, Lara knew she was overreacting. She was punishing the man she loved for reasons she couldn’t explain, even to herself. But she couldn’t help wondering why he’d never mentioned Megan before now. In fact, if Lara hadn’t told him that she’d directed the woman to his office, would he have brought her up at all?

  That was the question, in her mind.

  Then again, did she really want to know the answer?

  Chapter 3

  The wind howled like a zombie on Saturday morning, bringing along temperatures that struggled to climb into the teens. It was a perfect morning to stay inside and work on one of her art projects.

  Saturday was an adoption day, so first she needed to be sure that the “meet-and-greet” room, formerly Aunt Fran’s back porch, was spiffed up and ready for potential visitors. After a light breakfast, she brushed all the cats, then set a cat-themed runner over the table in the meet-and-greet room. She dusted and vacuumed, eliminating as much cat hair as possible. Finally, she wiped down the windows with glass cleaner until they sparkled.

  While she had the vacuum out, she ran it over the floor in the reading room they’d tacked on to the shelter the summer before. Every Sunday, the shelter held “read to a cat” day, during which they hosted kids who wanted to read books to cats. The reading room was a library of sorts. Along with shelves packed with children’s books, it had comfy cushions and chairs designed for kids and their folks. Five children had already made appointments for tomorrow, one a little boy who came every week with his grandmother.

  “You’ve been very quiet this morning,” Aunt Fran said to Lara when they were putting together an early lunch. “Would you like to talk about it?”

  Lara shook her head. “Not really. It’s something I have to work out on my own.” She slathered peanut butter on a slice of wheat bread, then caught her aunt staring at her. Lara went over and kissed her on the cheek. “Stop worrying. It’s no biggie.”

  “If you say so,” Aunt Fran said. “But remember, I’m here if you want to chat.”

  “I think I’ll eat in my studio,” Lara said. “I want to do some preliminary sketches for the painting I’m doing for Amy’s new house.”

  Amy Glindell, their veterinarian, had contracted with Lara to paint a watercolor of her three dogs—all gorgeous Australian shepherds. Lara had toyed with a few ideas but wanted to work up some pencil sketches and run them by Amy first. Hopefully the task would take her mind off Gideon, at least for a little while.

  She’d thought of heading down to the coffee shop that morning and pouring her heart out to Sherry. Ultimately, she’d decided against it. Sherry was caught up in the throes of planning for her wedding. Lara didn’t want to make her feel bad about her issue with Gideon so close to the big day.

  Every ten minutes or so, Lara caught herself checking her phone. The absence of the telltale ping of an incoming text should have been enough, but she checked anyway.

  Nothing from Gideon. Which wasn’t like him.

  Of course, she hadn’t texted him either. Was it going to be a standoff?

  Eventually, she set down her sketching pencils and went out to the kitchen. Munster, their lovable orange-and-white-striped boy, launched himself at her legs, wrapping his furry form around her ankles. Lara lifted him and kissed his whiskers, then propped him on her shoulder. “You’re getting cat hair on my favorite leggings,” she told him. “Which I know you don’t care a fig about.”

  Aunt Fran was sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away at her laptop. Dolce snoozed in her lap. She closed out the document she was working on and pushed the laptop aside. “Make any progress?” she asked.

  “Not much.” Lara sat down and plunked Munster in her lap. “How about you?”

  “It’s coming along at the speed of honey flowing on the North Pole.” Her aunt smiled. “That’s okay, though. I’m enjoying the process.” Her kind smile morphed into a look of concern. “Maybe you’d feel better if you confided in someone.”

  “Hint, hint, right?” Lara said. “Aunt Fran, you’re about as subtle as a cattle prod.”

  “Whatever works.” She winked at her niece.

  Lara relented. She gave her aunt a recap of her conversation with Gideon the evening before. She wasn’t sure what troubled her the most—the idea that Gideon might decide to represent Megan, or the fact that he hadn’t called or texted her since he’d dropped her off the night before.

  “So, you’re currently at an impasse,” Aunt Fran said.

  “I guess you could call it that.” Lara tickled Munster between his ears.

  “Which means someone has to make the first move.”

  Lara made a face. “That’s what I figured you’d say. But I’m—” Her cell rang in her pocket. “Excuse me a sec,” she said to her aunt, then hurried to answer her phone. She sagged when she saw the caller. “Hi, Sher.”

  “That…that woman was just here,” Sherry bellowed.

  “Woman? What woman? You mean Megan?”

  “Megan? Who the heck is Megan? I’m talking about Loretta, my future mother-in-law. Lara, are you okay? You sound like you’re on a different planet today.”

  I am. Planet Feel-Sorry-for-Myself, Lara thought wryly. “Never mind. Tell me about Loretta.”

  Sherry launc
hed into a rant about Loretta’s visit to the coffee shop. In her sly way, Loretta had produced snapshots supplied by their local florist showing how the pews of St. Lucy’s church could be decorated for the ceremony.

  “Oh no,” Lara said. “What did you tell her?”

  “It was all I could do not to tell her where she could stuff those pictures,” Sherry hissed. “I calmly explained that while those photos were lovely, our ceremony was going to be held here at the coffee shop, where David and I first met. Like I haven’t already told her that fourteen times.”

  “Oh boy.”

  “Yeah, you said it. Luckily, Mom came out of the kitchen in time to rescue me. She gushed over Loretta’s new wool coat, then sweetly explained our plans for decorating the coffee shop. Loretta didn’t know what to say, so she shoved the pictures back in her purse and left. Oh, Lara, this isn’t going away. What are we going to do?”

  “All I can say is, in the wise words of the Beatles—let it be. David and you are in total agreement, and that’s what counts.”

  “I know. You’re right,” Sherry said glumly. “But I feel so bad for him, I know his mom’s been trying to work her guilt trips on him.”

  “Think of it this way,” Lara suggested. “Three weeks from today, you and David will be husband and wife. All her grumblings over a church wedding will be water over the falls, right?”

  “I guess so,” Sherry said. “By the way, you didn’t come by this morning after you left Gideon’s. What gives?”

  After a long pause, Lara said, “Um, I didn’t stay at Gideon’s last night. We were both out of sorts, so he drove me home after dinner.”

  Sherry was quiet for a moment, then, “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. No worries. I’ve got a ton of projects to work on today, plus it’s an adoption day. It was all for the best.”

  “If you say so,” Sherry said, sounding unconvinced.

  After they disconnected, Lara set down her phone on the table and said to her aunt, “I’d better hang out in the meet-and-greet room in case we get some early visitors.”