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Merriment, Mayhem, and Meows

Page 14

by Patricia Fry


  “He saved Mims’s life,” Mattie said quietly. “Remember that, Ruthie?”

  “I sure do,” Ruth said, reaching over and patting her sister’s knee.

  Mattie looked across the table at Savannah and Michael. “If it wasn’t for your cat, my best friend, Mims, would have burned to death in that old mansion.”

  “I’ve always wanted to ask you, Mattie,” Suzette said, “is that why you two women decided to clean up your life?”

  “Maybe. How do you really know what causes you to start doing things differently or seeing things differently?” Mattie paused. “I’m just glad it happened and that you two gave us this great opportunity.” She looked across the table at the Sheridans and the Iveys again. “Did you know Arthur sent both Mims and me to culinary school? Then he hired us as his cooks.” She grinned proudly. “Now I’m their chef.” She thinned her lips and glanced at Arthur and Suzette. “But not for long.”

  Suzette smiled at Mattie, and Savannah couldn’t help but notice, Mattie sure doesn’t look like a homeless person anymore. She had her mouth of awful teeth fixed. She isn’t so puffy looking. Her hair and skin even look healthier. And her manners have much improved. “Mattie, I just can’t help but tell you how wonderful it is to see you looking so well.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking down at her hands. She glanced up at Savannah, saying, “I’m happy. I think happy and healthy kinda go together, don’t you?”

  Savannah nodded and smiled.

  In the meantime, Iris’s curiosity got the best of her. “So, Mattie, you say you’re leaving your job here? Why is that, may I ask?”

  “Well…” She paused. “You tell them, Suzette. You can put it in better words.”

  Suzette smiled sweetly at Mattie. “Iris, the thing is, I’ve discovered, thanks to Mattie, that I also love to cook. There are just the two of us here. We rarely entertain on any grand scale. We’ve decided that we want to live like a normal suburban family with children…” She looked at Arthur. “…hopefully in the near future. And I’d like to cook for us—to be a regular wife.”

  “So we’re giving Mattie wings,” Arthur said, winking at their cook.

  “Yes, wings. Know anyone who needs a chef with wings?” Mattie joked.

  “She comes highly recommended,” Arthur said. He leaned forward. “Want to know her specialty?”

  “What?” several others asked.

  “Pasta. She makes her own and she can sure work with flavors to create some wonderful pasta dishes.” Arthur peered at Mattie. “I hope you gave Suzette some of your recipes.”

  “I love her salads,” Suzette said. “Just when I think I’ve seen everything in the world of salad making, she surprises us.” She winced a little when she said, “Mattie, I am going to miss you, girl.”

  “Where’s your grandmother this evening?” Savannah asked Arthur.

  “Resting. She wants to be fresh for the wedding tomorrow.”

  “Is she ill?” Margaret asked.

  “Oh no, just growing older and slowing down some.” He grinned. “She told me the other day she’s saving her energy for when we have children.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “So, tell us,” Suzette begged, “I’m dying to know what happened at the bookstore.”

  Savannah glanced at Margaret. “Not much, really.”

  At that, Margaret burst out laughing. “Not much?” she shrieked.

  “Well now,” Savannah said, “the place was a tad chaotic. The author—the gal who wrote the story—went to a couple of schools in the area yesterday. She talked about the book series, handed out discount coupons for autographed and…” she chuckled, “…paw-tographed copies, and invited the students to bring their coupons to the bookstore this afternoon.”

  “A whole lot of children showed up wanting a book with the cats’ paw-tographs,” Michael explained.

  Savannah nodded. “The poor bookstore manager was rather overwhelmed. It appeared that he wasn’t used to managing such a large crowd of children and parents, and it took him and his staff a while to establish some order.”

  “That bookstore isn’t very big,” Max explained. “Well, you probably know the place.” When Arthur, Suzette, and some others nodded, he added, “Imagine a hundred children and their parents milling around inside there.”

  “Wow!” Suzette said. “Poor planning, it seems.”

  Margaret and Savannah nodded.

  “And imagine,” Margaret said, “two cats in the midst of it all—sweet, calm Layla, who pretty much went into hiding,” she grinned at Savannah, “and the terrorist cat.”

  “Terrorist cat?” Savannah repeated. “Now Auntie…” she scolded.

  Margaret began talking over her niece. “Let me tell you, he took full advantage of the chaos.”

  “What do you mean?” Savannah insisted.

  She ignored her niece and continued telling the story in her most animated fashion. “Even before the children started arriving, he had eaten someone’s lunch.”

  “No he did not,” Savannah said defensively. “He merely saw it sitting there and sniffed it trying to figure out what it was.”

  “That clerk said he took a bite out of her tuna sandwich,” Margaret argued.

  “I doubt it,” she said, then added, “but he does love tuna.” She defended Rags by saying, “Other than that, he was a good boy.” But the laughter pretty much drowned out her words.

  Margaret put up one finger and everyone stopped to listen. “He rang up a thousand-dollar purchase.”

  “Oh that,” Savannah said. “It was purely an accident. I let that young clerk hold his leash while I took care of an issue with Lily and…” Again, laughter filled the room.

  Margaret projected her voice in order to be heard. “Let me tell you about her daughter.”

  “Oh no,” Iris said. “What did our princess do, tear pages out of a first-edition book?”

  Margaret chuckled. “No, but she did cause an avalanche in the children’s section.”

  “She didn’t mean to,” Savannah defended. “She wanted a book with a penguin on it and it was tightly stocked. When she pulled on it, a few other books fell.” Savannah became more serious. “We’re just fortunate Lily wasn’t hit on the head with a heavy book. Poor baby, it scared her.”

  “It probably scarred her for life,” Margaret quipped. “After that attack, she may have a fear of reading.”

  Savannah shook her head disgustedly at her aunt, but it didn’t stop Margaret. She was on a roll.

  “What else did Rags do?” Colbi asked, laughing.

  “He jumped out of Savannah’s arms while doing paw-tographs and put inky paw marks on a little girl’s new dress and across the pages of the book she was looking at.”

  “It was washable, non-toxic ink,” Savannah explained.

  Margaret laughed out loud. “Oh yes, and he drank out of the manager’s water glass.”

  “He was thirsty,” Savannah said.

  “You two should go on the road with your Rags stories,” Rupert said, laughing heartily. “You’re hilarious—Margaret, the comedian and Savannah, the straight man…er…woman.”

  “Yeah, you could be the Cackle Sisters,” Damon suggested.

  “Cackle?” Margaret challenged. “That’s chicken talk. What do you have related to cats?”

  “But when you laugh, Maggie, you cackle,” he explained.

  “I do not,” she said indignantly.

  “So did you sell a lot of books?” Colbi asked, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

  Savannah raised her eyebrows. “Yes. Once they got the kids and their parents to form an organized line, things went a little more smoothly and the manager—what was his name—Chase? He said they sold just over sixty books.”

  Margaret started to laugh again. “But that’s just a guess, since the tally they were keeping went missing.” She looked smugly at Savannah.

  “What?” Savannah asked.


  Margaret glanced around the table and noticed that everyone was waiting for her to continue. She took a deep breath. “Well, Rags, would you believe, stole the tally sheet. When they found him around the corner hiding on a shelf of parenting books, he had done some damage to it.”

  “Oh stop, Auntie. They have all that information in the computer. Now you’re just making things up.”

  “Are you saying he did not jump up on the counter and walk—no, run—away with that tally sheet?”

  “Well no, but you exaggerate.”

  Once the laughter had died down, Arthur asked, “So are you taking Rags to the book signing Monday?”

  Savannah looked around at the others and finally said, “Well, yeah. But I might leave the baby here with Michael. And I probably won’t let any of the children hold his leash. I think that’s what got us into trouble; no one else understands how high-maintenance he is.” She faced Arthur. “Speaking of cats, where’s Koko? Rags will want to see her.”

  When Arthur noticed Margaret shaking her head, he asked, “What, Maggie?”

  “I wouldn’t let Rags influence any of my cats,” she explained.

  Savannah smirked playfully at her aunt, then addressed Arthur. “Koko’s still healthy isn’t she?”

  “Oh yes. I put her out in the cat house while we’re having dinner. Maybe the two of them would enjoy a romp in the enclosed outdoor area after we finish eating. Where is Rags?”

  “He’s in the big pen in our room right now, resting.”

  “He’s not the only one who needs to rest, after that signing episode,” Margaret said, feigning exhaustion.

  “I’m going to need a nap after all that belly-laughing,” Mattie said.

  ****

  Savannah dabbed at her eyes with a tissue late the following day. “Your wedding was beyond lovely,” she said.

  The new bride beamed. “Thank you.”

  “It’s because of you,” Arthur said. He looked out over the people milling around in his spacious yard. “All of you. You made it special by being here with us.”

  “So true,” Suzette agreed.

  “How sweet of you to say that.” Savannah looked inquisitively. “Suzette, where are your parents? I’d hoped to meet them.”

  “Would you believe they got stuck in Chicago? Something happened there and all flights were cancelled. When we learned they weren’t going to make it in time for the ceremony, we talked it over and decided to go ahead as planned. The videographer recorded everything. We’ll curl up in the den and watch the wedding with my folks and my brothers after they arrive.”

  “Oh my gosh. When are they due in?”

  “We just don’t know. It could be this afternoon or even tomorrow.” Suzette looked up at Arthur. “Good thing we’re accustomed to playing things by ear. And Mom and Dad are good sports.”

  “Well, let me kiss the groom,” Savannah said, giving Arthur a peck and a hug. She then wrapped her arms around Suzette. “I’m so, so happy for you.” As she pulled away, she said, “You’re a lovely bride.”

  Arthur squeezed her to him. “Isn’t she?”

  “Oh, there’s Pearl,” Savannah said, taking Lily’s hand. “Let’s go see Grandma Pearl…um, Stepgrandmother Pearl,” she said, correcting herself for Arthur’s benefit.

  “Grandmother,” he said, smiling warmly.

  Savannah returned his smile and picked up Lily. “Hi, Pearl,” she greeted. “Do you remember us?”

  “You, I do,” the elderly woman said. She patted Lily’s knee. “But this one, I’m not so sure about.”

  “That’s right, you haven’t met Lily,” Michael said, joining them.

  “Hi, Michael,” Pearl said. “So this is Lily. Arthur speaks of her fondly.” Pearl smiled. “She is a dear.” She addressed Michael again. “How’s the animal-doctoring business?”

  “Busy,” he said. He held his hand out to her. “Good to see you looking so well.”

  “Thanks.” She glanced at the newlyweds. “It’s a mighty special day. Aren’t they something?”

  “They sure are,” Savannah said. “And so deserving of the happiness they’re enjoying together.”

  Pearl bowed her head. “Amen.”

  “Oh, there are Peter and Rochelle,” Savannah said, pointing at the couple who were approaching. “So good to see you,” she said, hugging Rochelle, then Peter. She turned to face Pearl. “Do you know Arthur’s grandmother, Pearl?”

  Rochelle took Pearl’s hand in hers. “No. It’s a pleasure. Your grandson is quite a special young man.”

  The elderly woman nodded. “He surely is.” She tilted her head. “How do you know Arthur?”

  Appearing momentarily embarrassed, Rochelle said, “Oh, forgive me. I’m Rochelle. I…um…worked with him once to…uh…help him remember something important.”

  “Oh yes,” Pearl said. “I heard about that. He thinks very highly of you.” She squinted in Rochelle’s direction. “Are you a hypnotist…a psychic?”

  “Something like that,” Rochelle said. She promptly took Peter’s arm. “Pearl, this is Peter. He’s an artist.”

  “You’re an artist?”

  “Yes. We have a studio and gallery in the city,” he explained.

  “What kind of art?” Pearl wrinkled her nose. “Not that New Age, streaks and lines and blotches and blobs sort of thing, is it?”

  Peter laughed. “No. My work is realistic.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed her a couple of photos of his paintings.

  “Oh yes,” she said. “That’s my kind of art. I know that’s a tree and that’s a bridge and that’s a wolf.”

  “A wolf?” Savannah questioned. “You’re painting wild animals now?”

  “Sometimes, yes. Oh,” he said, flipping through the photos on his phone. “Savannah, do you remember when you sent me the picture of that big buck last year?”

  “The photo I took?”

  “Yes.”

  He held his phone out for Savannah to see. “There he is.”

  “Oh Peter, it’s beautiful. I love it.”

  “So you’re a photographer, Savannah?” Pearl asked.

  “Not really. I just enjoy getting out in the wilds and taking pictures.” She smiled at Lily. “Only this one keeps me home these days, which is okay because she makes a pretty good subject.”

  “I’d say so,” Pearl said. “She’s a beauty.”

  “Rochelle,” Iris said, rushing up to the small group. “When did you get here? I’ve been watching for you.”

  “You have?” Rochelle asked, looking puzzled. “We arrived only a little late; the ceremony was just starting, so we took a seat in the back. Why?”

  “Well, I don’t know if you remember me or not, but…”

  “Sure, Iris, I remember you.” Rochelle grinned and leaned toward her. “We were in cahoots with the spirits at the old mansion.”

  “Yes we were,” Iris said. “Only I never felt their presence like you and Ruth and some of the cats did. I could never figure that out. If you believe, aren’t you more apt to be—you know, aware?”

  “I’m not sure that’s true,” Rochelle said.

  Iris appeared to be disappointed. “Really? I can understand nonbelievers not being sensitive to vibes from the other side, but if you believe, you should be perceptive to spirits.” She shook her head. “I sure wasn’t at the Peyton Mansion…may it rest in peace.”

  Those within listening distance chuckled a little.

  “What?” Iris asked.

  Peter said, “I’ve never heard that term related to a building before.”

  Iris ignored the comment and focused on Rochelle again, but before she could speak, Pearl said, “That place will never rest in peace.” She then smiled weakly at Savannah and nodded toward Rochelle and Peter. “Please excuse me, will you? I want to speak to that gentleman over there.”

  “Sure, Pearl,” Savannah said. “It was nice to see you.”

  �
�Nice meeting you,” Rochelle called after her. She then focused on Iris, who continued her conversation.

  “Well, here’s the thing, Rochelle. Are you familiar at all with what we’ve been dealing with in Hammond while I was helping to renovate the old Kaiser place?”

  Rochelle narrowed her eyes in thought. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Savannah hasn’t told you about it?” Iris asked.

  Savannah shook her head. “It’s been ages since we’ve talked.”

  Iris continued, “Well, I took on the job of renovating this hundred-year-old house and wound up creating an upscale bed-and-breakfast and now, through some unusual circumstances that are too complicated to explain, I own the place.” She paused before adding, “I think it may be haunted.”

  “Oh?” Rochelle said, her eyes wide. “Do you know anything about the history there? Did someone die in the house or on the property, maybe before the house was built? Was it an old burial ground, perhaps?”

  Iris glanced at the others who had gathered around, then swallowed hard before saying, “Well, while we were working on the place, we dug up about a half-dozen bodies.”

  “Really?” Rochelle said, her eyes even wider.

  “And found one buried in the wall,” Savannah added.

  “And you think some of the spirits remain on the property?” Rochelle asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Iris said, “but there seems to be some indication of it.”

  “Do you think they’re friendly spirits? You don’t feel threatened by the energy, do you?”

  “I don’t know,” Iris lamented. “I haven’t felt it.”

  “But you’ve heard it,” Savannah reminded her.

  Iris nodded. “Oh yes, we heard it and we’ve seen possible evidence of its existence in the house. But I invited ghost-chasers to stay in the room where the…um…energy seems to be most active and they claim nothing at all happened the two nights they were there.”

  “Well, that’s not completely unusual,” Rochelle explained. “Spirit activity can come and go.”

  “But they weren’t aware of anything…not a thing.”

 

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