by Nic Tatano
I can’t stop my eyes from welling up. “You’re welcome. And thank you for saving a life.”
The couple leaves and I grab my napkin to wipe my eyes.
“Madison, you okay?”
I smile at Nick. “I am now.”
We take a slow stroll back to my hotel, his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. My arm tight around his waist.
I feel safe. Like the man would take a bullet for me.
Probably because he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
The doorman at the hotel tips his cap as he holds the door for us.
Nick lets go as we head to the elevator and takes my hands. “I’m glad we could get together, Madison, and hope I’ve cheered you up a little. So I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
I shake my head. “I’m not ready to say goodnight yet.” I don’t want to be alone. “Can you stay with me a little while?”
“Sure.” He puts his arm back around me as I lean my head on his shoulder. We stay that way as we ride up on the elevator and walk to my room. I put the key in the door. “You up for a movie? They’ve got Netflix here.”
“Okay, Madison. Whatever you want.”
We head inside and find a small basket of fruit and bottle of wine on the table with a card reading compliments of the hotel. “Hey, want a nightcap? Neither of us is driving.”
“Sure. I’ll pour the wine and you find a movie.”
I sit on the love seat facing the TV, grab the remote and start searching the new releases, quickly finding something I want to watch. He pops the bottle of wine, pours two glasses and sits next to me. “Hey, Madison, you know what?”
“What?”
“I’ll bet you would like to watch the movie this time.”
I can’t help but smile as I take in his soulful look. I turn to the television set and lean on his chest. His arm goes around my shoulders.
And this time we actually watch the movie.
I don’t know how, but the man knows exactly what I need.
Chapter Fourteen
Since I had to spend Saturday traveling back to New York and I was emotionally drained, my boss gave me what he termed a “pre-emptive mental health day” because he assumed I was gonna call in sick on Monday. (He was right.) Which meant I could give Rory the day off from cat sitting. They’re all eating from a bowl now and don’t need someone to be there 24/7, as they amuse themselves wreaking havoc in my spare room and the adjoining bathroom. The tabby has discovered the joys of playing with toilet paper, as he jumped up onto the roll and then went into the eternal climb as it spun around, covering the floor with paper. Why they can’t play with the countless toys they have is beyond me, but I’m told cats often like the packaging better than what’s inside, which I’ve found to be true since the tuxedo kitten likes to play stealth cat and hide in an empty box, then jump out at me when I enter the room. I had to take away the ball that beeps and lights up, since my nocturnal friends decided to play a game of hockey around three in the morning. Of course I’m sure they sleep while I’m at work. One of our photographers wants to set up a Go-Pro camera in the room to see what they do when people aren’t around. Good idea that should make for a fun story.
I decided to use my Monday off to shop a bit after feeding the kittens and meet Tish for lunch, since she has a trial here on the island and couldn’t make our usual Sunday brunch yesterday. She’s already seated in the restaurant when I arrive. She gets up and gives me a strong hug. “You doin’ okay, kiddo?”
I nod as I put my shopping bag on an empty chair next to me and we both sit. “Better. Felt like I’d run an emotional marathon on Friday. But dinner with Officer Goodbody really helped.”
“Ah, so my idea paid dividends.”
“Yeah, he was just what I needed.”
“So how far did you go this time?”
“Here’s the thing … we didn’t go anywhere if you’re referring to anything physical. He gave me a big hug when he picked me up and took me to dinner, then we went back to the hotel and he held me while we watched a movie. Didn’t make a move. The guy seemed to know I simply wanted to be held and nothing else. How many men would do that? I actually had to kiss him goodnight.”
“Wow. Impressive. So he’s in the lead.”
“Right now, but he’s had two dates to Jamison’s one. We’ll see where things stand when they’re even. Still, the cop is very impressive. I do worry about getting serious with him, though.”
“Why?”
“You know. Such a dangerous profession. I’ve done a bunch of stories on police funerals. I mean, if you’re married to a cop everything could be gone in an instant. Imagine being a widow at our age. I’m sure spouses worry every day that their husband or wife won’t come home.”
“And if you’re married to someone in another profession who gets hit by a bus, same result. Madison, you can’t worry about stuff like that. If the guy turns out to be your soul mate, you consider his profession and live every day to the fullest. You wouldn’t take him for granted like so many married couples do with their spouses.”
I slowly nod. “Excellent point. Actually you should live that way every day. Oh, and I told him I was also seeing someone else and he shrugged it off with a great answer.”
“And that was …”
“I don’t own you. I’m just happy to spend time with you.”
“Yeah, that’s perfect.” Tish points at my shopping bag. “So I assume you bought yourself something nice? You certainly deserve it.”
I grab the bag and reach inside, then pull out four small ceramic bowls and set them on the table. “Check it out. The one with stripes is for the tabby, the black and white one for the tuxedo cat, the multi-colored one for the tortoiseshell and the solid color for the Russian blue.” I beam, proud of my purchases.
“Seriously, Madison? You actually went shopping on your day off and bought color-coordinated bowls for cats?”
“Yeah, so it will be easier to make sure each kitten gets the right amount of food.”
“And you really think the kittens will say, Hmmm … I’m still hungry, but I’d better not touch anything in the striped bowl. That one’s not mine.”
“Oh, give me a break. Besides, when you adopt your kitten you get the matching bowl.”
“You sound like someone at Bed Bath & Beyond selling dinnerware. Am I supposed to register at Bloomingdales for a kitten shower?”
I start to put the bowls back in the bag. “Leave me alone. I enjoy spoiling the little guys.”
“You sure you’re going to be able to give up three of the kittens?”
“Yes, I’m sure. One cat will be fine for me.”
“That’s how it starts.”
“Will you stop with the cat lady stuff?”
“Sorry, it’s too much fun yankin’ your chain. I guess I’m still amazed at the wonderful change in you since you found them.”
“Y’know, Tish, so am I.”
We head out of the restaurant an hour later as Tish has to get back to her trial and the kittens are due to be fed soon. My phone rings and I see that it’s a print reporter I know from New Jersey. “Tish, let me take this. I’ll see you later.”
“Sure, kiddo.” She heads off toward the courthouse as I take the call. “Brian, how are you?”
“Fine, Madison. Hey, wondering if you can help me out if you’ve got a few minutes.”
“I’m actually off today. What’s up?”
“Newark FBI just busted a couple of foster parents and arrested them for child abuse. Apparently they beat the six kids they had on a regular basis.”
“That’s horrible. Hope they throw the book at them. So why do you need my help? You need a quote about the foster care program?”
“I was told you were the person who tipped off the feds.”
“Huh? I don’t know any agents in Newark.”
“I meant to say you tipped off a Congressman who dropped a dime on the FBI. Something about a teenage girl you met when you were in Wash
ington on Friday. So what’s the story?”
THE DOMINO EFFECT OF MADISON SHAW’S KITTENS
By Brian Schell
In a political climate which has paralyzed Washington for the past several years, it took a set of dominoes to fall in order to actually get something positive done. And the first domino was toppled by a paw.
One of the top stories on Monday was the swift passage of what is known as the “college adoption bill” which will pick up the tuition tab for any child permanently adopted by parents who raise the child till the age of eighteen. The other big story, at least in this part of New Jersey, was the FBI raid on an abusive foster home in which six children had been beaten with regularity by their foster parents.
None of this happens if network reporter Madison Shaw doesn’t find a litter of orphaned kittens while doing a story.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock the past few weeks, you know the tale (or should it be “tail”?) of how Shaw has been bottle feeding four kittens and getting up in the middle of the night to do so. While this would seem on the surface to be a basic “celebrity does a good deed” story, the amazing ripple effect of this simple act of kindness seems to have taken on a life of its own.
If Madison Shaw doesn’t take in a neighbor’s lost cat out of the rain, the story of her fostering kittens doesn’t go viral. That led to a live TV interview in which it was revealed that she had grown up in foster homes. That led to a Senator from Florida inviting her to testify before Congress about an adoption bill. Which made an abused teenager drive to Washington from Newark to meet Miss Shaw. Which made the reporter ask a former FBI Agent turned Congressman to get the girl out of a bad situation. Which led to the raid on the foster home and six kids being saved.
None of this happens if she doesn’t become a nursemaid to those kittens.
“Frankly, I don’t think what I’ve done is that big of a deal,” said Miss Shaw. “I’m taking care of some little animals for a few weeks and asked a politician I know to help a girl in need. But in a strange way good things have been happening since I took in those kittens. It’s a bizarre domino effect. And I hope it keeps going.”
Those dominoes led to the bill passing yesterday, with bi-partisan agreement that Miss Shaw’s testimony had tipped the scales. Florida Senator Julianne Flint credits Shaw with getting her bill over the hump. “Her words were so raw and honest, so powerful. More than a few members of Congress who were on the fence about the issue said they voted for it after hearing her personal story of triumph over adversity. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room.”
The teenage girl who contacted Miss Shaw (her name has been withheld to protect her identity) had skipped school and borrowed a car to make the long drive to Washington. She told the FBI, “Madison Shaw saved our lives. We’ll never be able to thank her enough.”
And since cats are said to have nine lives, it seems these kittens are sharing some of theirs.
After a publicity-filled week in which I was the center of attention, I want to do something mindless and fun, and when Jamison called with two tickets to a Broadway comedy on Friday night, I jumped at the chance. Of course I was to going see him again anyway, so this will be a nice way to kick off the weekend. But since the show starts at eight and I have a live shot and won’t be done till nearly seven, we’re not going to have time for a sit-down dinner. I told him we can grab a Coke and a slice (pizza) which was just fine with me, so he agreed to pick me up in the lobby of the network.
I practically fly out of the newsroom after I’m done at a few minutes before seven and find him waiting in a great looking suit and tie in the lobby. I give him a quick hug. “Thanks for meeting me here. Long day.”
“Not a problem.” He ushers me toward the front door. “Do an interesting story today?”
“Started on one, which may never pan out. Investigating Senator Collier.”
“Really? I thought you reporters had given up on trying to nail him.”
“Most have, but not me. I know he’s dirty, and I just got the go-ahead from our new CEO to start digging.”
“Oh right. I read that you got a new corporate boss.”
“Yeah, the last one was a friend of Collier but this one hates him. Anyway, I need to get my mind off that so let’s grab a cab. I know a good pizza joint across the street from the theater.”
“Oh, I got a car for tonight.” He opens the door for me and gestures toward a waiting stretch limousine.
“Jamison, you hired a limo? Really, you didn’t have to do that.”
He chuckles a bit. “It’s also our restaurant for tonight.” The driver greets me and opens the door. I slide into the back of the limo (it’s actually my first time riding in one) and my eyes widen at what I see. A couple of silver trays filled with decadent hors d’oeuvres, a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket. Jamison gets in next to me as the driver closes the door. “I wasn’t sure we’d have time for pizza.”
“Good God, Jamison, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble and expense.”
He shrugs. “Not a big deal. Anyway, dinner is served.” He pours the champagne as I fill a small plate with some goodies.
After running myself ragged on a story today, it’s nice to have someone wait on you. I lean back in the leather seat which is soft as butter, sipping champagne and eating bacon-wrapped shrimp as the limo pulls into traffic.
Damn, I could get used to this.
Traffic is bad so we get there just in time. Jamison ushers me into the theater, shows the tickets to an usher who points us in the right direction. We apparently have really good orchestra seats. He puts his hand lightly on my back as we walk down the aisle toward our seats, about ten rows from the stage in the center. “Wow, great seats, Jamison. Glad we made it in time.” Suddenly the crowd starts to applaud so I pick up the pace. “Apparently just in time.” The applause grows louder but the lights do not dim and the curtain doesn’t open. I look at my watch and see it’s five minutes till the play begins. “What the hell are they clapping for?”
He shrugs. “Beats me.”
The crowd is still clapping as we find our row. I take off my jacket and am about to sit down when I see everyone standing, looking at me. Still clapping.
“Madison, I think they’re clapping for you.”
Chapter Fifteen
I’m deep in thought as I slowly pick at my cheesecake in the upscale restaurant. The play and the laughs that went with it faded into the background as I tried to process getting a standing ovation before the show started. And then during the curtain calls, the star of the show spots me, points me out and the crowd applauds again.
Honestly, I don’t get it. Is America that desperate for a simple good deed? Standing ovations should be reserved for veterans coming home from war, not people who take care of kittens.
“Earth to Madison?”
I look up at Jamison. “Sorry. Still can’t believe what happened tonight.”
“Well, it was deserved. I was proud to be your escort.”
“You’re sweet. But I still don’t understand all the attention I’m getting. I mean, I’m used to being in the public eye as a reporter, but it’s like people now see me as a human being.”
“They see you for what you are, not what you do for a living. They’re impressed by what you do when you’re off the clock, and how you’re using your fame for good.”
“I guess so.”
“And having been a reporter, I know that a lot of the general public sees media people as less than human.”
“Very true. We’re right down there with car salesmen on the trust factor. Anyway, I’m sure my fifteen minutes will end soon.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. That applies to people who weren’t famous. You already checked that box. Most famous people don’t do what you did.”
“Lots of celebrities have charities.”
“They simply donate money. Writing a check is easy. What you did before Congress was hard.”
“I guess.” I
check my watch and see I need to get home soon.
“Tired, Madison?”
“Not at all. But I’ve only got my cat sitter for another hour.”
“Well, let’s run you home then.”
“While I’d love a long ride in a limo, my car is at the network. By the way, didn’t you already miss that last water taxi?”
“I have a little apartment here in the city for when I have to work late … or have a great date.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Y’know … it’s a shame to let all those goodies in the limo go to waste. Hey, how about this … I give you a ride to your place, you take care of the cats, then I’ll run you back to the city to get your car. And we never did eat a real dinner. I don’t know about you, but I’m still hungry.”
“Sounds like a plan. Besides, you need to meet the fur babies.”
I’m rather surprised to see Jamison get down on the floor in what has to be a thousand dollar suit to meet the kittens. “So, you like cats?”
“I like all animals. We had a cat and a dog growing up.”
“What kind of cat?”
“A white cat with blue eyes.” He grabs a toy, a fuzzy ball attached to a wand, and holds it above the tabby. The kitten jumps and grabs it. “So you’re keeping one?”
I pick up the tortoiseshell. “Yeah. This one’s my favorite.”
“He’s a pretty little cat.”
The Russian blue runs over to him and rubs against his leg, shedding a bit against his dark trousers. “Oh, sorry about that.”
He waves it away. “Cats seem to be attracted to colors different than their own. Our white cat loved shedding on my dark clothes. It comes right off with sticky tape. No big deal.”
I want to see the tortoiseshell’s reaction to him, so I put him on the floor. Jamison reaches out to pet him. The kitten crouches down a bit and backs up, then moves forward to sniff his hand. “He’s checking you out.”
“Nah, he knows I had shrimp tonight.” The kitten moves forward and licks his finger, then rubs his head against Jamison’s hand. He smiles and pets the kitten.
