The Lost Cats and Lonely Hearts Club
Page 18
“Well, my office is in the Empire State Building, which is situated on Fifth Avenue. That street is also the home of the famous department store, Saks Fifth Avenue. And since this kitten has white socks, I think it is only appropriate that I name her Socks Fifth Avenue.”
By the end of the day the Twitterverse is going wild over the kittens. I must admit that the name Tish came up with for her kitten is incredible, and its “account” on Twitter (@SocksFifthAvenue) already has a ton of followers. Of course as soon as she set it up I was pretty much forced to set up an account for Bumper (@BumperCat) and he is also attracting followers in droves. He’ll probably have more than I do by the end of the week.
Tish must not have had a busy day because Socks Fifth Avenue has been tweeting every hour. (Either that or she delegated it to her secretary.) With stuff like this:
@SocksFifthAvenue
Training my human. Looked sad while she was eating salmon so she shared. And what did YOU have, @BumperCat?
I could see this could turn into a full-fledged Twitter war between Socks and Bumper, so I called her and told her I didn’t have all day to spend as a ghost writer for a cat. Which resulted in this:
@SocksFifthAvenue
Yo, @BumperCat, you too lazy to tweet more than once a day? Already turning into a diva?
@BumperCat
Spotted a fly in the house and busy chasing it on behalf of human. At least I have a job, @SocksFifthAvenue
Meanwhile, the actual department store Saks Fifth Avenue thought the whole thing was cute and donated a chunk of change to a local shelter, while asking Tish if Socks could be their spokes-cat for a promotion in the future.
But adopting out the kittens has left my house pretty quiet, with just me and Bumper until Nick gets here this weekend. The kitten seemed a little bored when I got home so I’ve been busy playing with him. I guess he misses his friends so I’m going to schedule a play date with Rory’s kitten.
Stop looking at me like that. I’m not obsessive.
Okay, I’m obsessive.
Mea culpa.
Chapter Twenty-One
Everything looks perfect as we prepare for Nick’s arrival on Saturday morning. A.J. has brought a ton of food as the house will be filled with a bunch of cops within the hour, while Rory, Tish and I have been decorating. A huge banner hangs across the dining room reading “Welcome Home.”
Of course, I don’t know if that means home for good, home till he gets better, or maybe both.
Meanwhile, the guest room has been transformed to make things easier for him, while the living room now looks like a TV studio, with two backgrounds set up in the corner while a camera and lights are in the middle with cables running everywhere. The curtains are still doubled over the rods while the bubble-wrap remains a fixture.
And Bumper has his own room as well.
“Sure doesn’t look like your house anymore,” says Tish, as she sits on the couch and turns on the TV. “All this because of a bunch of kittens.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m making Better Homes and Gardens anytime soon.” I sit next to her as A.J. grabs the seat on the other side. Our network’s cable operation is covering Nick’s release from the hospital, as his story of heroism has gathered national attention. I decided not to be there as this is his moment, and we both agree our relationship should remain private. Besides, if I were there it would be yet another step toward sainthood, and that’s not why I’m doing this.
A.J. points at the TV and sits up straight. “Here he comes.”
I lean forward and Tish turns up the sound as we see Nick being wheeled out of the hospital by his partner toward a waiting horde of media people. He smiles as he comes to a stop near the special van that is on loan to us by a local car dealership.
A reporter shoves a microphone in his direction. “How are you feeling, Officer Marino?”
“A little better every day. I want to thank all the doctors and nurses for saving my life and treating me so well. It’s great to be going home.”
“Officer, I understand you were clinically dead for a short time.”
“That’s correct. I met your great grandfather and he said you need to call your mother more often.”
The media laughed and peppered him with more questions, all answered in an upbeat manner.
Tish pats my hand. “He’s amazing. To have that kind of attitude. He’s good for you, Madison.”
“Excellent choice,” says A.J. “If he can handle this with that much grace, he can handle anything.”
I turn off the TV as the news conference ends and I see him loaded into the van. “Yeah. I don’t think anything fazes him. Hopefully he’ll stay that way.”
“It will be a lot easier with you taking care of him,” says Rory. “And please don’t hesitate to ask us for help. This is going to require a lot more effort than taking care of the kittens.”
Nick beams as his partner wheels him in the back door and is greeted by a loud cheer. My home is a sea of blue uniforms, as most of the cops from his precinct are here. I hang back and let all his fellow cops shake his hand and slap him on the back, then move forward, lean down and give him a hug. He takes my hands as I stand up. “I cannot believe you’re doing this, Madison. But I can’t thank you enough.”
“Hey, what good is having a guest room if you don’t have a guest?” Everyone laughs as I move behind him and push him up to the dining room table which is filled with food from A.J.’s deli. “But before I show you to your room, Officer, I know you want some real Italian food after all that hospital stuff.”
His eyes light up as I dish out some lasagna onto a plate and slide it in front of him. “So, you cooked all this?”
“Yeah, right. Once the leftovers are gone you might wanna leave. Hope you like peanut butter and jelly. Though I do make a mean macaroni and cheese.”
He takes a bite of the lasagna and closes his eyes as he savors it. “Damn, this is good. Who made this?”
A.J. is next to me and raises her hand. “All from my deli. If you want more, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“The best compliment I can give you is that it’s as good as my mother’s.” He looks up at the ceiling. “No offense, Ma. A.J., maybe you can teach Madison to make this.”
A.J. leans forward and whispers in my ear. “See, the red hair even trumps my cooking.”
I sit next to him as everyone starts dishing out the food. “So we ended up having dinner on the weekend anyway.”
“Can’t wait to take you out to a real restaurant. I just don’t know when.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get there.”
A couple hours later I notice his eyes are drooping and he’s yawning. “You out of gas?”
“Yeah, I sleep too much. But the doctor says that’s normal after what I’ve gone through.”
“Don’t apologize, you need it.” I stand up and get everyone’s attention. “Okay, the guest of honor needs his rest. You can come back and visit tomorrow.” People begin filing by, shaking his hand and patting him on the back as they leave, like a receiving line after a wedding. Finally the crowd clears out and it’s time to show him around. I get behind the wheelchair and push him toward the guest room. “Okay, time to give you the lay of the land.”
For the first time he notices the network backgrounds and TV gear set up in the living room. “What’s the deal with all that stuff?”
“I’ll be doing live shots from here, so I can get home early and spend more time with you.”
“Geez, Madison, I’m really putting you out.”
“No big deal. And I get to work at home a lot more. You’ll see.” I navigate him thorough the new wide door into the guest room. “Okay, bathroom is to the left and you can roll right into the shower. We lowered the bed so it’s the same height as the wheelchair seat and you can slide in and out. And you’ve got a pull bar over the bed to help you move around.” I point at the TV. “You’ve got Netflix so you can binge watch, books to read. Your partner brought you
r clothes and computer and it’s already linked to my internet. There’s a bell and a whistle on the nightstand in case you need help. And the nightstand is actually a small fridge, with drinks and snacks if you want something.”
He shakes his head as he uses the pull bar to slide onto the bed. “Damn, Madison, I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you did all this for me. And honestly, we don’t know each other that well.”
I sit on the edge of the bed. “I know you well enough. Now, do you need anything?”
“I don’t have to take any medication for a few hours. I’m good.”
“Okay, I’ll let you sleep. And I’m not going anywhere this weekend. If you want me, just whistle.”
“What is this, Casablanca?”
“Actually the line is from To Have and Have Not. But same result. I’ll come running.”
He picks up the whistle and blows.
“I’m right here, Nick.”
“You said to whistle if I wanted you.”
“Very funny. I meant if you need me for something.”
“I do.”
“Okay, knock it off.”
“Hey, you’re the one who told me to whistle if I wanted you. Anyway, what’s the deal with your job?”
“I’ll have to go in Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday I’m doing research on Senator Collier which I can do from here. Friday and Saturday are my days off and tomorrow morning I’m on the Sunday political show, live from my living room. But I’ll be done with that by nine and then I’m free the rest of the day. On the days I’m at the network we’ve got nurses scheduled to be here. Rory will be checking on you from across the street and A.J. will be sending lunch over.”
He bites his lower lip and his eyes well up a bit.
He doesn’t have to say a word.
I lean forward and give him a kiss. “Get your rest, Mister. I’ll check on you later and we can watch TV. Welcome home, and I mean that sincerely.”
He’s been asleep all day and it’s dinner time. I peek in his room and see him waking up. “Get a good nap?”
“Yeah. I was out cold. What time is it?”
“Six. You hungry?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, you have another visitor. If you can handle it.”
“Sure.” I walk in holding the kitten and he smiles as I hand it to him. “Bumper! Look at you, you got bigger.”
“They grow up so fast. Then off to college and they never call you anymore. Just come home with dirty laundry.”
He lays the kitten on his chest and begins to scratch him on the head. “So, you can’t jump and I can’t walk. We’re quite the pair.”
The kitten meows as I sit on the edge of the bed. “I already told you that you’re gonna walk again. Anyway, you two catch up and I’ll go get you something to eat.”
“Are there leftovers?”
“Thankfully, we have a ton of food. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“I seem to remember an excellent dinner you cooked for me.”
“That was with a lot of help from A.J. and it’s the only recipe I have.”
“Well, I’ve got a ton of them in my head. I’ll teach you. Least I can do.”
Three hours later Nick laughs as the movie we’ve been watching ends. “Not exactly my idea of taking you out for dinner and a movie.”
“Hey, it’s the company that counts. You up for anything else?”
“I know it’s only nine, but I’m fading.”
I turn off the TV and sit up on the end of the bed. “You need anything before you crash?”
“My medication.”
“You already took it with your dinner. Did you forget?”
“Not that kind of medicine.” He points to his lips.
“What?”
“Hey, you’ve been lying next to me for the past three hours. You think I don’t want a goodnight kiss?”
“You sure you can handle it? Don’t want to put a strain on your heart.”
“You did that before I got shot.”
Wow.
I can’t help but smile as my own heart flutters. “Awww. Damn, Marino, I must say you’re good with the compliments.” I lean forward, gently take his head in my hands and give him a long kiss.
He strokes my hair as our lips part, gives me that same look I saw on the dance floor, then he pulls my head back toward his. Suddenly we’re making out and the sparks I’m feeling are off the charts. I want to climb on top of him but have to resist in light of his condition. Finally he stops and runs his hand across my cheek as I sit up. He’s wearing a big smile as he nods. “Yep. Just as I thought.”
“Huh?”
“At least some things below the waist are working perfectly.”
Color rushes to my face as I instantly blush. “Why Nicholas Salvatore Marino, you have a dirty mind. Young man, you’re a long way off from that kind of physical therapy.”
“Hey, I had to know. Just looking long term.”
“Yeah, right. You get well first, Mister.”
“By the way, how’d you find out my middle name?”
I point at his arm. “The hospital wrist band. Salvatore, huh?”
“Don’t remind me. So if you call me by my full name, does that mean you’re in charge at the moment?”
I gently pat him on the cheek. “Aw, sweetie, didn’t you get the memo? You should have figured out by now that I’m always in charge. Too late now. You’re stuck here, just like James Caan in Misery.”
I start to get up but he grabs my hand. “Hey.”
“What?”
“All kidding aside, someday I hope I’ll be able to thank you.”
“You already thanked me. Several times.”
“Words aren’t enough, Madison.”
“Just dance with me again. That will be thanks enough. And that’s what I really want. Dance with me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’m not in my body yet as I get ready to head back to the newsroom on Monday morning. While getting up at a ridiculous hour on a Sunday was not my idea of fun, the trade-off was great. Spending an hour sharing my opinions on politics rather than a full day at work is well worth the crack of dawn wake-up call. Besides, I needed to get up to check on Nick and make him breakfast. Bacon and eggs I can handle. Though I made a mental note that I’m going to run out of leftovers by Thursday and will have to start cooking. Which could probably send the poor guy back to the hospital.
But I’m bleary-eyed because he had a rough night, apparently having some sort of flashbacks that manifested themselves into a nightmare. Nick woke up screaming at four in the morning, so I spent the rest of the night in his bed, his arm around my shoulders, my head resting on his.
It felt so perfect.
But Rory’s right. This isn’t going to be remotely like taking care of the kittens.
Something bright and colorful catches my eye as I enter the newsroom. A huge bouquet of flowers on my desk.
And then it hits me.
With all that has been going on of late, I completely forgot it was my birthday.
But Nick obviously remembered. Geez, the guy is recovering from a nearly fatal gunshot wound and he manages to call a florist. And spend way too much money. I know what cops make, and this is out of his price range.
Still, it’s very sweet.
I pick up the pace, suddenly energized as I always am when I get flowers. I reach my desk and lean into the bouquet, breathing in the beautiful fragrance, then grab the card.
And when I open it, my joy disappears.
To a very special woman … Happy Birthday!
-Jamison
Well, so much for being “just friends” as it is clear the guy isn’t giving up, nor is he respecting my decision. His phone number is still in my cell, so I quickly call him, waiting with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw for him to answer.
“Hey, Madison, how are you?”
“Jamison, I told you the other day I couldn’t date you anymore. Did you not get the
message?”
“I told you I understood your decision. Why are you so upset?”
“Well, if you understand my decision then why are you sending me flowers? I told you I’ve chosen someone else.”
“Oh, damn. I know what happened. Madison, I’m so sorry. I ordered them a couple of weeks ago when you told me this was your birthday. It slipped my mind and I forgot to cancel. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I wasn’t trying to get between you and the other guy.”
Oh.
I exhale my tension, shaking my head at myself for getting angry with him. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset with you. I just assumed … well, you know what they say when you assume.”
“Not a problem, I certainly understand what you thought. Listen, if you want to give the flowers to someone else—”
“No. They’re beautiful and I appreciate the thought.”
“Is everything okay, Madison?”
“Just didn’t get much sleep last night and I’m kinda cranky when that happens.”
“I’m the same way. Well, see you in a few days for that public service announcement.”
“Thanks for being so understanding. Again. Bye.”
I roll my eyes in disgust as I sit down, having chewed out a guy who was just being nice and cared enough to remember a special day.
Yeah, happy birthday.
I pull into my driveway around four thirty and have a live shot at six, so I’ve got some time to check in on Nick. I find Rory in the living room talking with one of the nurses who has volunteered to help out. “Hey guys.”
Rory grins, steps forward and gives me a hug. “Happy birthday Freckles. Gift’s on the table.”
I smile back at her. “Thanks. So, how’d he do today?” I say, turning my attention to the nurse, a pretty blonde around forty who is married to a cop.
“I little rough,” she says. “Tried a little of the physical therapy I showed you but couldn’t do too much. He still has a long way to go. Maybe you can try again a little later.”
“Is he up?”