by Ellen Dugan
I spun around and searched the front porch. Half expecting Merlin, the family’s black cat, to have dropped by for a visit, I went down the front steps and called for him. “Kitty, kitty,” I said softly.
I followed the meows around to the side of the house. The farther I walked, the more I realized that it wasn’t Merlin. Concerned, I kept searching. “Where are you?” I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket, hit the flashlight app, and shined the light in the shadowy parts of the gardens. I walked closer to the opening in the fence and noticed with some surprise that the first of the moonflowers had started to open. I’d taken a step forward when I felt something brush across my bare foot.
I glanced down, and a young, scrawny cat with dirty white fur peered up at me.
“Meow,” the small cat cried, rubbing against my ankle.
“Oh!” I scooped it up and felt it shiver. “Where did you come from?”
The skinny cat burrowed into my arms and my heart was lost. I had a hunch that it had been on its own for a while. I carried it into the house and took it straight into the kitchen. I got out a little bowl and filled it full of water. I sat down on the floor and put the cat in front of the bowl.
The cat lapped at the water. Now in the light I could see her clearly. She was far too thin. Female, I figured, as it was a calico. Scruffy patches of orange and black were scattered in patches across the dirty white fur. Her front legs were mostly white and the top of her head and back were a mixture of the three colors. The poor thing.
The little cat finished drinking and turned around and climbed back into my lap. I carefully pet her silky ears and grinned when I felt her purr. I pulled out my cell phone, aimed it, and took her picture.
I sent a quick text to Holly: Look what I found. Can you bring me over a little cat food?
OMG! On my way. Holly replied.
Holly let herself in the back door a few moments later. She carried a plastic baggie filled with dry food. “Where’d you find it?” she wanted to know.
“Around back, under the moonflowers.”
Holly pulled a saucer out of the cabinets and came over. She sat down slowly and poured a bit of the dry food on the saucer.
The cat’s head popped up when Holly poured the kibble on the saucer. Holly gently set the saucer down on the floor, and the cat climbed off my lap and went straight to the food.
“She’s hungry,” Holly said. “The poor thing’s been on her own for a while.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said. “I’ll have to ask around and see who she belongs to.”
“I think she belongs with you.” Holly ran a fingertip across the cat’s back.
“I suppose I should take her to a vet, and get her checked out.”
“Dr. Barron has evening hours on Friday,” Holly said, speaking of the family’s vet. “The animal hospital would be open. Let me give them a call, and find out if they can see us.”
Which is how I found myself being driven across town by my cousin with the foundling cat wrapped in a towel.
We were ushered into a treatment room and the doctor came right in. We talked for a bit, and after testing the young cat for feline leukemia, which was thankfully negative, the vet administered liquid vitamin drops and started her on vaccinations. Dr. Barron estimated the short-haired cat to be under a year old. The cat wasn’t micro chipped but was in fact a spayed, declawed female. Basically the cat was undernourished, but other than being dirty, she was surprisingly okay.
“How could someone dump her?” I wondered.
“It happens,” the vet said, sadly. “It’s lucky you found her when you did.”
“I’ll take her in,” I said to Dr. Barron. “She’s not going to a shelter.”
“Congratulations.” Holly put an arm around my shoulders. “You’re a pet parent.”
I filled out the paperwork for the animal clinic and bought some dry cat food from them. I also made arrangements to bring the cat back for a follow up visit. Holly and I were on the road again within an hour, making a pit stop to get some cat shampoo and litter box supplies.
We hauled everything inside and it was after ten by the time we’d managed to give the cat a warm bath in the deep kitchen sink. We tried to be as gentle as possible, and she suffered through it with a few very unhappy yowls. That stopped once we had her out of the water and wrapped up in an old towel. As we dried her off I found that she had a black half moon shaped spot on her left flank.
“Huh, check that out.” I showed the marking to Holly.
Holly patted the cat on the head. “If that’s not a sign that she’s meant to be a Bishop cat, I don’t know what is.”
Lexie came over from the manor with a heating pad, and we put it on the lowest setting. Wrapping the cat up in another dry towel, I set her on it. The little cat yawned so big that she fell over and promptly went to sleep.
Lexie smiled down at the calico. “What are you going to name her?” she asked.
“Between the mark on her leg, and finding her under the moonflowers,” I said. “I was thinking about calling her Luna.”
***
Luna lived up to her name by being wide awake at night. I’d started out by having her in a little box that included the heating pad and a towel. I set the box in my bedroom, and a litter pan in another corner. I figured the cat would be exhausted from the day and sleep through the night...
And why I’d ever thought that would work was currently beyond me. As soon as I’d clicked off the light, she started to meow and explore the room.
I called to her softly and the meows stopped. A moment later I felt her jump up on the bed. I stayed very still and waited to see what she would do. She walked gingerly up along my side and sat, staring at me. I reached out slowly to pet her and the cat leaned into it, and began to purr. I hadn’t expected her to be so friendly so soon, but Luna slowly climbed up on me and stretched out on my chest. I gently ran my hand over her head and she began to knead and purr. I fell asleep with the light still on and Luna purring away.
I woke up at sunrise to the cat peering down into my face. Large olive green eyes stared at me, and I started to laugh. Then I thought about whether or not she’d used the litter box and hurried to get her to it. While Luna scratched around her pan, I double checked and was relieved to see that she hadn’t left me any presents in the bedroom.
I sat on the side of the bed, swinging my feet and waited while the cat went about her business. Once she finished, she hopped out and scrambled across the area rug. She made a jump for the bed and strolled over like she’d always lived here. Luna appeared to be proud of herself as she climbed directly into my lap.
“So, you’re here one night and you already rule the roost?” I gave her a little pat.
“Meow,” Luna replied, and nudged her head under my hand.
“Come on cat,” I said with a large yawn. “Let’s go get breakfast.” I called to her and she followed me down the stairs to the kitchen.
While Luna explored the kitchen, I ran around and made sure all of the doors to the unfinished bathroom, basement, and hall closet were shut. Then I panicked over the fireplace and double-checked to make sure the cat couldn’t nose her way past the screen.
Luna scampered across the empty living room chasing the rainbows that the prisms in the front window had created on the hardwood floors. After a little while I picked her back up and carried her to the downstairs litter box, hoping to remind her where it was. I backed up and let her nose around. When she hopped out, she scampered back to the living room and was back to chasing rainbows.
Sitting at my kitchen table, I ate breakfast and watched Luna play. I suddenly realized that by adopting a foundling cat my master plan for the weekend had been completely demolished. My new living room furniture was scheduled to be delivered by noon, and I needed to cat proof my entire house.
A knock on the kitchen door had me turning. Lexie stood on the back porch, holding Belinda. I jumped up to let them in. “Morning.” Lexie walked in
. “How’d last night go?”
“Luna didn’t settle down until I let her sleep on the bed with me.” I yawned.
“Sucker,” Lexie said. She sat at my table, shifting the baby to her lap. Lexie handed the baby a bright yellow rattle, and Belinda shook it once and chucked it on the floor.
“Yeah, yeah.” I retrieved the rattle, and focused on my niece. “And how are you this morning, Miss Belinda?”
Belinda blinked at me with big blue eyes and smiled. She was wearing a sort of stretchy baby headband in pink, and my niece was mostly bald. What little hair that she did have was growing in to be the same dark blonde as her mother’s. The baby’s hands waved as she worked up to a sort of squealing sound.
“Tell me all about it,” I said to the baby. I shifted my attention to her mama. “You want some coffee or tea?”
Lexie asked for tea so I started a pot. While we visited, Luna scrambled into the kitchen and pounced on the laces of my sister-in-law’s tennis shoes.
“So,” Lexie said, “Holly tells me you’re needing yet another contractor to finish up the new bathroom.”
I set a mug in front of her. “She thinks I should call Duncan.”
Lexie sipped at her tea. “Maybe you should.”
I sat across from her. “Considering our past history, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“You’re hiring him to work on the bathroom, not asking him to go on a romantic cruise to the Caribbean,” she pointed out dryly.
“What if me hiring him to work on the house gives him the wrong idea?” I argued.
“And what if it gets your renovations finally complete?” she countered. “Besides, according to Morgan, Aunt Irene didn’t like the other guys.”
“Har-har.”
Lexie’s expression changed. She stopped smiling and leaned forward a bit. “What happened between you and Duncan when he was under the influence of the grimoire...well, it changed the both of you.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s been four years since that night we fought. And almost three years since he asked me to see him as he truly was—once he was free of the manipulative magick that his mother had worked on him.”
“He went through hell.” She nodded. “After facing off with Rebecca myself, it has made me a little more sympathetic to Duncan.”
I reached across the table for her hand. Lexie had never spoken to me about the details of her battle with Rebecca Drake-Quinn.
“I’m a competent Witch, and trained as a police officer.” Lexie paused for a moment. “I’m a damn good shot, and I know how to defend myself against physical attacks, and magickal ones. But I’ll be honest. Rebecca came at me hard, and from out of nowhere.”
“Lexie,” I began.
“No, hear me out.” Lexie shook her head. “That night it took everything I had to protect Morgan.”
“She’d gone after Morgan?” I asked, horrified at the thought.
“She tried.” Lexie’s expression was fierce. “She paid for it.” Lexie ran her hand over her daughter’s head. “That night I did what I could to draw her away from him, and even now, three years later, it’s still hard for me to describe the sheer amount of power she was throwing down.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” I said.
I flashed back to when I’d faced off with Rebecca myself. While Lexie had lain unconscious in the hospital, the family had rallied around her. I’d figured out where to find the grimoire and had snuck off to end the conflict once and for all. Once at the Drake mansion, I’d discovered that Aunt Faye had been a victim of Rebecca’s manipulations, and that Duncan was completely under his mother’s magickal influence as well.
Luna came over and pawed at my leg. I picked up the cat and held her for comfort. Much as Lexie was doing with the baby. “I’d done my best standing up to her too,” I said, shaking my head, “but in the end it was Thomas Drake who shielded me from his sister’s magick.”
Belinda gurgled happily and banged her rattle against the table. The noise surprised her.
“I still have nightmares,” I admitted.
“You do?” Lexie frowned.
“Yeah, it’s sort of like a replay of the battle. Getting blown across the room, and hitting my head. Julian Drake working healing magick to get me on my feet, so Aunt Faye and I could escape the mansion. The three of us stumbling out in the storm. The lightning striking the roof.” I stopped and cleared my throat. “Thomas left Rebecca to die in that fire, and yet he still managed to drag Duncan outside.”
Lexie sighed. “Who would’ve ever guessed that old man Drake had a heroic side?”
“It couldn’t have been easy. Duncan was so far under Rebecca’s thrall that he was like a zombie.” I shuddered. “He would have died if not for his uncle.”
“None of the survivors walked away from that night without a few scars, physically or emotionally,” Lexie said solemnly. “Not the Drakes, and certainly not any of us.”
“A few weeks after the Grand Coven assembled, Duncan asked me for another chance. He told me that he’d wait for me,” I said, sitting back in my chair.
“You obviously decided not to.” Lexie frowned.
“I was seeing Rene at the time,” I reminded her.
“You’re leaving something out.” Lexie narrowed her eyes. “Spill it.”
“Duncan told me that he loved me. That he’d be waiting for me to come back to him, and he kissed me.”
Lexie said nothing, but gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze.
I felt my throat grow tight. “It was the first time he’d ever said that he loved me, Lexie. And then he stepped back and let me go.”
“Wow.” Lexie whistled.
“That was almost three years ago, and I’ve never had anything hurt like that.”
“Okay, now I understand why you’d be hesitant of having him in the house working for you as a contractor.”
“It’s not so much that he is my ex. It’s more that I don’t want to—”
“Lead him on,” Lexie said.
“Exactly.”
“Have you heard from Rene Rousseau lately?” Lexie asked in a completely different tone.
“No,” I said flatly. “He appears to have plenty to keep him entertained these days.” The gorgeous Creole man I’d once dated seemed to be getting along quite nicely without me, I thought, and allowed a squirming Luna to hop down.
“Are you okay?” Lexie asked.
I smirked. “It’s a horrible thing to see your former boyfriend all over social media, and in the company of supermodels.”
“I’m still surprised that he left William’s Ford and relocated.” Lexie let go of my hand and sipped her tea. “Were you in love with Rene?” she asked casually.
“To paraphrase Lady Gaga,” I said, “it wasn’t love. It was however—a damn good illusion.”
Lexie winced. “Ouch.”
“I don’t know why I was so surprised when all was said and done.” I tried to make myself relax. “Call it an illusion or a glamour, that sexual sort of magickal fascination was Rene Rousseau’s specialty.”
“I never thought about it that way,” Lexie said. “But as a model his whole career was all about his looks and his ability to sell a product or to captivate women’s imaginations.”
“I figured out a few months ago that he literally fed off the interest of other women whenever they were attracted to him.”
“You’re saying that—”
“He wasn’t able to take energy from me.” I cut her off. “He always claimed that I did it to him though, when we were...intimate. And that it made him feel worn down.”
“I call bullshit!” Lexie jerked forward, and the baby bounced happily on her mother’s lap.
“Agreed.”
“I had no idea,” Lexie said. “I thought you were happy together.”
“I was content, and he made me feel safe,” I admitted. “Our sex life wasn’t the best, but for a long time I figured maybe that was all a Witch like me would be ab
le to have.”
“Contentment and safety? That is the biggest bunch of crap I’ve ever heard in my life,” Lexie stated firmly. “So what if you’re strong willed? You deserve passion! And by the way, a real man would find that...” she trailed off as I began to smile.
“I get it,” I said. “And thanks for the pep talk.”
“I hadn’t realized you’d been keeping so much to yourself.” Lexie bounced Belinda on her lap when she began to squirm. “You could have come to me, if you needed an ear.”
“Well you’ve been a little busy with Morgan, and now Belinda,” I pointed out.
Lexie stood and walked around the table. “You’re family. If you need me all you have to do is call.”
I stood and gave her and the baby a hug. “Will do.”
***
The living room furniture was delivered after lunch. I corralled the cat in the large walk-in pantry while the front door was open, and tried not to feel guilty while the men were setting up the plush gray sectional. The matching storage ottoman was set in place and I did my best not to jump and down in excitement. After six months of not having a couch, I was thrilled to finally own living room furniture.
Once the movers left, I rushed to open the pantry door. “Sorry,” I said as Luna strutted past me with her black and orange tail held high. She sat on the brick hearth, surveying the changes to the room. I hurried to my living room closet to take out two lamps and their shades. I’d also been storing burnt orange throw pillows, and a soft plush throw in the same warm shade. A small box of framed family photos joined my stack of accessories.
I went out to the garage and hauled in the retro end tables one at a time. Finally, I was able to set the lamps in place and put on the final touches. I unwrapped the framed photos, while Luna sat beside me sniffing at the contents of the box.
