The Secret Life of Mac

by Melinda Metz

  “Ah, romance in the air.” Rich pulled his notebook out of the pocket of his sweatpants, those ones with a swirling purple pattern and the name of a cough medicine down one leg.

  “I have to know where you got those sweats,” Nate said.

  “L.A. ROAD Thrift Store. It’s pretty much the only place he shops,” his grandson, Max, answered.

  Rich was probably one of the fifty wealthiest people in California and that’s where he bought his clothes. Gotta love the guy. “Did you know those pants are—”

  “Something a nineties rapper would wear?” Max finished for him. He shook his head. “I tried to explain the concept of purple drank, but whoosh.” He flew one hand over his head.

  “What’s purple drank?” Briony asked.

  She’d clearly spent her formative years inside a G-rated bubble. “You’re adorable,” Nate told her. He hadn’t planned to actually say that, but it slipped out, and it got her blushing again.

  Rich looked from Briony to Nate. “I feel a poem coming on.” He began to scribble.

  “You’re a poet?” Briony asked, letting the purple drank thing go.

  “I am. My form is the limerick.” Rich began to scribble with one of the little golf pencils he always had on him.

  “The lowest form of poetry,” Regina commented as she joined the group.

  “Salman Rushdie wrote limericks. So did Auden and Shakespeare and Thomas Aquinas. Shall I go on, my lady?”

  “We’ll talk when you’ve written a novel that wins the Booker, a poem that brings one to tears—and not because of its crudeness—a play that will still be read in a hundred years, or a piece of philosophy that will still be discussed in that time.” With that, Regina turned to Briony. “I’m Regina Towner.”

  “I should have introduced you. Regina, this is Briony. She’s cat sitting for the cat you used as a model in art class yesterday.”

  Rich interrupted with a recitation. “ ‘The moon’s my constant mistress,/And the lovely owl my marrow;/The flaming drake/and the night crow make/Me music to my sorrow.’ ” He looked Regina in the eye. “That is a limerick.”

  Regina blinked. Nate didn’t think he’d ever seen her at a loss for words before that moment.

  Finally, she said, “A limerick by definition is humorous. That was a limerick in meter only.”

  “Touché.” Rich bowed his head toward her. That was a first, too. Rich conceding a point.

  Regina returned to her conversation with Briony. “That certainly was a gorgeous kitty cat.”

  “He’s a gorgeous escape artist. Every time he comes out, it’s straight to The Gardens. He loves it over here. I don’t blame him.” She briefly touched Nate’s arm. “It’s a beautiful place.”

  “I agree.”

  “Are Bethany and Philip going to be able to make it tonight?” Nate asked Regina.

  “Not this time, but next week definitely. You see, Nate is what makes The Gardens truly special,” she told Briony. “He knows the names of my niece and her husband, and every other person who’s ever visited a relative here. The grounds and facilities are first-rate, but it’s Nate who makes this place home.”

  “Thank you.” Her words, especially today, after dealing with Eliza, reminded him that the work he did was important. Regina feeling like The Gardens was home, that’s what he wanted for Archie and every other person who lived there.

  “Agreed.” Richard put his pencil away and clapped Nate on the shoulder.

  “Wow. They finally agreed on something,” Max said. He came around a lot and knew all Richard’s friends. Or whatever Richard and Regina were. Sparring partners, maybe.

  “Because Regina finally said something that made sense,” Rich answered. He flipped a few pages back in his notebook. “Now who wants to hear my latest?”

  Regina glanced at her dainty watch. “More than a minute before he tried to read one of his poems. A record.”

  “I’d like to hear it,” Briony told Rich.

  Rich shot a grin at Regina. “I’d be honored.” He cleared his throat and began to read. “ ‘There once was a man in a bow tie/Who reminded all of a coyote/He—’ ”

  “Now’s not the appropriate time to poke fun at Archie, so soon after his injury,” Regina said.

  “Injury? What happened?” Rich asked Nate.

  Nate had been expecting to get asked this question. Still, it was tricky to answer. He didn’t want to completely leave out the possibility that the treadmill malfunctioned. They’d hear it soon enough. Gossip traveled fast at The Gardens. Still, he didn’t want to frighten them. “He took a spill off one of the treadmills and sprained his ankle. He said the machine jumped up a few speeds when he was walking. I had it checked, and there didn’t seem to be a problem, but I’m having it replaced, just to be on the safe side.”

  “Poor man,” Regina cooed. “I need to make him a poultice. I learned one from my grandmother.”

  “The poor man looks like he’s getting everything he needs from his granddaughter.” Rich jerked his chin toward the door—where Eliza was rolling Archie inside in a wheelchair, a knitted blanket draped over his legs.

  Regina didn’t bother replying. She hurried off, heading toward Archie. Peggy and Janet were already rushing toward him, too. Nate wanted to go straight over there but decided to hold back. He had to handle the situation carefully. He needed to appear concerned, but not overly anxious.

  Rich stared over at the women clustered around Archie, his lips pressed together. Then he took out his notebook and pencil and began to write again.

  “Before you got here, Rich was telling me Max goes to UCLA.” Briony turned to Max and smiled. “What are you studying?”

  “M-marketing.” Max hadn’t stuttered when he was talking about his grandfather’s shopping habits to Nate. From what Rich had told him, it was something Max struggled with as a child, but it had mostly disappeared unless he was particularly anxious. Maybe it was having the attention of a beautiful “older” woman focused on him. Nate probably would have felt the same way when he was that age.

  “Have you had to take Principles of Accounting yet?” Briony asked.

  “I’m taking it right now. It’s a lot more l-law than I thought.”

  “Exactly! People who haven’t studied it think it’s boring.”

  “Or that it’s easy. Just adding up rows of numbers.” No stutter that time. She’d already gotten him feeling more comfortable.

  “But it’s more like solving a—” Briony began.

  “Puzzle,” she and Max finished together.

  “Anyone for a phyllo-wrapped asparagus with prosciutto? I also have LeeAnne’s famous spinach brownies,” Hope asked briskly. One of the waitstaff must be out. That’s the only time Hope served. Usually, Nate would have been up on the situation, but today had been full of distractions. “They’re yummy,” she added, but the words sounded stiff and she wasn’t engaging with the residents the way she usually did. Was she upset about something? Nate made a mental note to ask LeeAnne.

  Max opened his mouth, shut it. He hummed, then shook his head. Rich kept writing. “I’d love one,” Briony said, and selected an asparagus appetizer. As she took a dainty bite, Nate found himself staring at her mouth. He had to force himself to look away.

  “Nate?” Hope held the tray out to him, and he took a spinach brownie and put it on a napkin. He wasn’t hungry, but he didn’t want LeeAnne finding out he’d refused one of her specialties. It would take a bunch of compliments to make it up to her. He decided he’d try one more time to get her to change the name. Calling something with no chocolate in it a brownie was wrong, no matter how good it was.

  “You sure you don’t want one of the wrapped asparagus, Max?” he asked. “I know you love prosciutto.” Nate made a point of knowing more than names.

  When Max didn’t answer right away, Hope turned and walked off in a way that was borderline rude. Max stared after her. Nate recognized the expression on his face. It’s probably exactly the way Nate had just be
en looking at Briony.

  * * *

  Mac ding-donged Gib’s bell. The man blah-blahed something, and Mac heard him walking toward the door. There was no smell of sardinsies tonight. But he wasn’t there for sardinsies, he reminded himself. He was there to deliver the present he’d just found. This one should work.

  When Gib opened the door, Mac dropped the smelly on his foot. Gib picked it up, rubbed it between his fingers, then raised it to his nose. It really didn’t deserve to be called a nose. Gib had to press his face blob into it just to get the scent, and the scent was strong.

  But Mac could smell Gib getting happier. Just the way Mac knew he would.

  “You got out again? Bad kitty.” Gib said “bad” the way Jamie did, like he didn’t really mean it. Not that Mac minded being bad. Bad was fun. “Well, this time, I’m returning you.” He reached down, like he just wanted to give Mac a scratch. But Mac knew better. He knew Gib was going to make a grab for him.

  He turned around, trotted a few steps away, then paused. He put his tail straight up, which everyone knew meant “follow me.” At least everyone who knew what was what. That, sadly, probably didn’t include humansies. Mac took a few more steps, looked over his shoulder, and gave a loud meow, then started toward the sidewalk.

  “Dang it, cat.” Gib stepped outside and locked the door.

  Mac moved slowly, keeping just ahead of the human. The present had made Gib happy, and Mac knew how to make him even happier. He led him straight over to the source of the smell.

  “There’s my boy.” The human called Peggy made little tongue-clicking sounds at Mac, and Mac accepted her invitation, jumping into her lap. She immediately began scratching the sweet spot under his chin. Here was a human who understood at least a few things.

  “I need to get him back to his owner,” Gib said.

  “She’s here. She’s going to watch the movie with Nate. So, he can stay until then,” Peggy answered.

  “I suppose I’ll have to stay, too. I want to keep an eye on him.” Gib sat down next to her. “He’s a wily one.”

  Now that his people were behaving themselves, Mac could have a little playtime. He stood and leapt from Peggy’s lap into the lap of the man on her other side. The man who didn’t like him. You disliked Mac, you paid the price. Mac reached up one paw and patted the man’s face. Mac could smell how much he hated that, so he did it again.

  “Good night, nurse!” the man blah-blahed. “Who invited you? If I wanted someone to sit on my lap I would have asked.” He looked over at Peggy. “Maybe I still will.”

  Mac’s nostrils itched. Gib’s smell was changing. He smelled the way Jamie had that time Mac refused to walk on a leash. He’d probably smelled like that, too. He was not happy with her that day.

  Gib stood up. “Tell Briony where the cat is. I’m leaving.”

  Mac stared at him as he headed for the door. What was wrong with humans? Mac had led Gib to the exact spot that would make him happiest. And what did he do? He scatted. Now Mac would have to start all over again. But not tonight. He needed a nap. It was exhausting trying to teach humans how to behave.

  * * *

  “I need to go over and say hello to Archie and his granddaughter before the movie starts,” Nate told Briony. As they’d walked from the dining hall to the screening room, he’d given her a fast rundown on Archie’s accident and Eliza’s reaction.

  Briony wanted to go with him, give him some moral support. “Is it okay if I come? Or—”

  “It’d be good. I want to keep it casual tonight.” Nate led the way over. Archie had on another spiffy bow tie. And the same gold-and-tan-striped cat he’d posed with in art class sat in his lap.

  “Mac! Again?” Briony cried. “What am I going to do with you?” The cat responded by purring.

  “He can stay until the movie’s over, since you’re here, too, can’t he?” a striking woman with a thick gray braid asked from a chair next to Archie.

  Briony threw up her hands. “I clearly have no control over him. He can do what he wants. Make that he will do what he wants.” Mac kicked his purr up another notch, sounding like an outboard motor.

  Nate made the introductions, and Briony studied Eliza, wondering how much trouble she was going to bring Nate. She dressed in a way that hid her figure, with a skirt that hit her at mid-calf and a flowered blouse that was probably a size too large. She wore a pearl collar necklace, with a single pair of matching earrings, but had several more ear piercings.

  Briony decided to make a little conversation. Help Nate keep things casual. “Did that hurt? The piercing right above your ear canal?” Briony still only had one piercing in each ear. Basic. Or whatever a level below basic was.

  “The tragus?” Eliza asked, brushing a finger across one of the tiny holes in her left ear. “Not really. The cartilage is thicker, so there’s more pressure. This one was worse.” She moved her finger to a spot almost across from the first one. “But probably just because the piercer sucked. If you’re thinking of getting one done, I could—”

  Archie shifted in his wheelchair and gave a grunt of pain. Eliza jerked her head toward him, whatever she’d been about to say to Briony forgotten. “Grandpa?”

  “The ankle giving you trouble, Archie?” Nate asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Eliza shot him a disdainful look. “I didn’t want him to come. He should be home with me with his leg up.”

  “My leg is up.” Archie gestured toward the chair’s raised footrest. “And it’s feeling swell. It just gave me a little tingle when I moved.”

  Eliza shook her head. “He’s only saying that because he wants to convince me it was only a minor injury. He’s insisting that he doesn’t want to leave. He refuses to accept that using that faulty equipment could have left him with a broken hip. Or worse.”

  “Leave? You weren’t thinking of leaving, I hope.” Peggy gave Archie’s arm a squeeze.

  “Of course I’m staying,” Archie insisted. “This place is the elephant’s manicure. Eliza’s being a Mrs. Grundy again.”

  He used as much crazy slang as Ruby and Riley did in their cowboy game. Briony guessed the expressions must be from when Archie was younger. She’d never heard any of them.

  “I’m happy to hear it,” Nate said. “I’ll send the doctor around in the morning to check on you.”

  “No, thank you. I have an appointment to take him to a specialist.” Eliza adjusted the blanket covering Archie’s legs, her hand lingering. “His G.P. gave me a referral.”

  “Let me know what they say. And let me know if you need anything, Archie,” Nate said. “We can have someone wheel you over for meals when Eliza’s not here to bring you. Or we can have meals sent over if you’d rather.”

  “I’d be happy to bring Archie meals!” a woman cried from the sofa behind them just as Regina called, “I’ll bring them!” from farther down the row.

  “Looks like your grandfather will have as much help as he can handle,” Briony said to Eliza. Eliza ignored her. The friendly woman who’d started to give her piercing advice had disappeared. It seemed weird that she had so many ear piercings, now that Briony thought about it. Eliza’s style of dress was so conservative. But maybe that was because she was visiting her grandpa. Who knew what she wore when she went out for fun.

  “You know I’ll do anything you need while you’re recovering,” Peggy added.

  Archie was clearly popular. Briony glanced around the room. The ratio of residents looked to be about seven women to one man. Maybe that was part of the reason, although Archie was a good-looking older guy. Those bright blue eyes of his were gorgeous.

  The lights blinked. “Movie’s about to start. We need to grab seats,” Nate said. “Just let me or any of the staff know if you need anything, Arch.”

  “I’m still very concerned about the conditions here,” Eliza told Nate. “If I see one more thing that makes me worried for my grandpa’s well-being, I’m going to have to move him.”

  “Now hold on there, honey
buns,” Archie protested. “It’s my life we’re talking about.”

  Eliza put her hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. “This is one time you’ll have to let me have my way.”

  At least she sounded willing to give The Gardens another chance, even though she wasn’t happy about it. That would give Nate time to figure out who was sabotaging the place. The lights blinked again. “Enjoy the movie,” Briony told the little group, then she and Nate found an open love seat on the other side of the room.

  “Saved it for you two,” Rich said from the row behind where he sat with his grandson. “A love seat for the lovebirds. There might be something there.” He began to mumble to himself as the lights went off.

  Briony couldn’t help smiling as the opening number began. “Good Morning Baltimore” was such a joyous song. She hadn’t seen Hairspray when it came out. Caleb thought musicals were silly, and he had a low tolerance for silliness. But even though the movie was delightful, it couldn’t hold her full attention. She was distracted by Nate. All he was doing was sitting next to her, but that was enough. Their thighs were only a few inches apart, and she could feel the heat of his body through that short space, through his clothes and hers.

  And the smell of him . . . He didn’t wear cologne, but the scent of soap and him was better than anything artificial. It filled her with every breath, taking her back to lying in bed with him. She completely forgot about the movie as she relived every moment, every touch. It was making her crazy.

  How long until she could have him again? She thought the movie was wrapping up. Once it ended, Nate would have to stay and be social for, what, another half an hour? An hour? Then would he take her home and take her to bed? Or was last night a one-time thing? It was so hard to sit there, waiting. She shifted slightly, bringing her thigh against his, although that hadn’t been her plan. Probably hadn’t been her plan.

  Nate leaned close. “How’s your foot?” he whispered in her ear. His breath was warm against her skin, but it sent shivers through her.

  “Maybe you should take a look,” she whispered back.