by Patricia Fry
Michael nodded.
“Doesn’t Lily know any other babies?” Margaret asked.
Savannah thought for a moment before saying, “Actually, no.” She looked at Michael and complained, “She has no friends her age, Michael. We really should do something about that.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Well, she needs peers. She needs to learn how to share and interact with other children her age.” Savannah creased her brow. “I need to find her a friend.” She put her hands up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, what have we done by isolating her? It never occurred to me that she has only adult friends.” She grabbed her husband’s arm. “Michael, are we bad parents?”
By then the others were starting to laugh. “Oh Vannie,” Margaret said, “she’s a perfectly well-adjusted child. She isn’t lacking a thing. Besides, she has all these fur-siblings.” She gestured toward Buffy, who laid on the edge of the large area rug; Rags, who was, again, sprawled out in Buffy’s bed; Walter, who peered at the group from his favorite plum-colored chair across the room; and the only dog in the bunch, Lexie, who sat at Michael’s feet.
Savannah was quiet for a moment before saying, “Gads, I wonder if she thinks she’s a cat or a dog—a pet. Michael, does she understand that she’s a child or have we caused her to become confused about her identity?”
Michael put his arm around his wife and pulled her to him. Grinning and shaking his head, he said, “You are such a worrywart. She’s fine. Like Maggie says, she’s well-adjusted.”
Savannah sat upright, her jaw set. “Well, I’m going to get her some friends.”
“How are you going to do that?” Margaret asked, laughing. “Place a classified ad in the newspaper, go on Craig’s list?”
“No,” Savannah said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m the one being ridiculous?” Margaret teased, raising her eyebrows.
“I’ll enroll her in a preschool or day care for a couple of hours a week.” She looked at her aunt. “I read about a program at the recreation department where moms exercise with their babies—a Mommy and Me group.”
“Good idea, hon,” Michael said, trying not to sound too patronizing. “Now, as far as her birthday, Maggie, I think your invitation’s in the mail. The party will be here next weekend and everyone’s invited—even the out-of-town aunts, uncles, and cousins. It’ll be quite a reunion for your family.”
“Well, there you go,” Margaret said, “some of your cousins have children. Roxy and Blake have a little boy about two, you know, and Jimmy and his wife Belinda have an infant. She’s probably six months old. And Belinda has a son about Adam’s age.” Margaret sat up straight. “Wait, I have a friend—well, she’s a gal I knew in school. Actually, her older sister was in my class. I run into Barbara at the beauty shop and grocery store sometimes—she operates a day-care business. Maybe I could introduce you to her.” Margaret looked at the baby. “Oh yes, I’d be most approving of Barbara as a caretaker for my Lily.”
Savannah grinned at her aunt. “Well, if you approve, I’m sure I will. Yeah, introduce me. I’d like to check out her place.”
The others watched as Margaret played peek-a-boo with Lily. Then Savannah said, “I hope everyone can come to her party. It’ll be fun catching up with the cousins and reminiscing about how we used to go exploring around here when you lived here, Auntie.” She grinned mischievously. “You know, I’d like to organize a treasure hunt or something fun like that.”
“For the kids?” Max asked.
“For everyone,” she explained. “We all have a kid living inside us—or we should.”
Margaret shook her head slowly and helped Lily to stand. She said to the baby, “Doesn’t Mommy know it’s wintertime? It’ll be too cold for silly outdoor games.”
“If it’s too cold, we’ll do a treasure hunt inside,” Savannah said, defiantly.
Max began stacking the blocks again. “Well, it sounds fun to me.” He looked up. “Will there be cake?”
“Certainly,” Savannah said. “I’m thinking about a Hello Kitty theme.”
Margaret grinned. “Of course, you are.”
Savannah turned toward Max. She tilted her head and smiled demurely. “Could we entice you to prepare one of the meals over the weekend for us, oh-chef-of-great-talent?”
Max chuckled. “Sure. I’d be glad to.”
“What can I do?” Margaret asked.
“We may need an extra room or two for overnight guests, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, that’s okay.” Without warning, Margaret abruptly changed the subject. “Hey, when do you think your sister will have a baby?”
“A baby?” Savannah said, frowning. “Brianna? Auntie, she’s not even engaged.”
“Yeah, when’s that going to happen?”
Savannah looked at her aunt for a moment before saying, “Well, she has her career to think about right now. Establishing a medical practice is pretty time-consuming. And Bud is awfully busy at the veterinary clinic, since Michael has been gone so much and I’m on maternity leave.”
Michael nudged Savannah. “Is that what you call it, an extended maternity leave?”
He grinned impishly. “Are you girls interested in a rumor—of the gossip type?”
“Yes,” Margaret said, facing Michael.
“Sure,” Savannah said, “as long as it’s juicy stuff.”
“Is it about Brianna and Bud?” Margaret asked, eagerly.
“Maybe…” he said, teasing.
“What?” Savannah nagged.
“Wellll,” he said, taking his time to respond, “there just may possibly, perhaps, be an engagement announcement sometime soon, or…later.”
Margaret and Savannah looked at each other, their eyes wide. “Cool,” Margaret said.
Savannah scolded, “Michael, you’re not just funning with us, are you?”
“No,” he said. “This is very probably a true rumor…maybe.”
Margaret looked at her niece. “We need to take that girl out to lunch and see what she’ll tell us.”
“And what if she doesn’t know about it or she won’t fess up?” Savannah challenged.
“Then we’ll take Bud out for a couple of beers,” Margaret said, giggling. She went in for a high-five with her niece and both women laughed out loud.
“Well,” Max said, standing, “Maggie, let’s go see if we caught us some tabbies, shall we?”
“Okay, if we must.” She looked at Lily. “It has been a fun playdate, little one. Auntie will come over and we’ll play another day.”
“An-tie,” Lily said in her sweet voice. “An-tie.”
“Yes!” Margaret shouted. “She said auntie; did you all hear that? She said auntie.” She grabbed the baby and hugged her, blowing raspberries on her neck and making her giggle. “You are so smart, and cute as a kitten.”
“Ki-ki,” Lily said, pointing at Buffy, who was walking dangerously close to the toddler. Just as the baby made a grab for the Himalayan’s tail, Margaret intervened.
“I’m surprised she got that close,” Savannah said. “Buffy’s usually more cautious around her.”
“She knew I had her back, isn’t that right, Buffy?” Margaret said, scratching the cat behind one ear. “And she loves my massages.”
“That she does,” Savannah agreed. She picked up Lily and said, “Let’s get you something to eat, then it’s time for a nap.”
“Ahhh, sounds good to Auntie. I think I’ll take a nap, too.”
“After we make sure those kittens are okay,” Max reminded her.
****
Later that afternoon, Michael answered his cell phone. “Hi Max. How’s it going?”
“We captured the little escapees.” He chuckled. “One male and the female went in together. Ever catch two at a time in one of those contraptions?”
“Good lord, no. I haven’t seen that happen. Are you sure they aren’t joined at the hip?”
“Practically. I hope t
o find someone who’ll take them both; they sure are little buddies.”
“How’d you get the other one?”
“Charlotte came over after church and lured him. That kitten’s been real responsive to the teen,” Max explained.
“She does have a way with cats,” Michael said. “Sometimes I wonder if it has something to do with her…condition.”
“You mean because she has Down syndrome? Perhaps, I guess.” Max hesitated, then said, “She does have a greater ability to focus than some of the other volunteers here. She hones in on something and sticks with it, which makes her a definite asset when it comes to socializing the feral kittens.”
“Too bad she can’t have one of her own,” Michael said. “I guess her younger sister is seriously allergic to cats. Anyway, I’m glad you caught them. Any insight as to how they got let out?”
“’Fraid not,” Max said. “Hey Michael, after we put the little guys away, I checked out that area behind the shrub. Sure looks like stairs to a basement. Man, I can’t figure out how I never noticed it before or why no one told me about it. I guess I’m just not very observant. I am curious, though. What are you doing later today?”
Michael glanced at Savannah, who was reading from her Kindle. “Just waiting for Lily to wake up from her nap and entertain us some more. Why?”
“I’m cooking up a big batch of gumbo. Would you three like to come over for an early dinner and share it with us?” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe we could cut back that bush some and see what’s been hiding behind it all these years. What do you say?” Before Michael could respond, Max asked, “By the way, do you have tools for that kind of job?”
“Sure.”
“Sure, what?” Max chuckled.
“Sure, we’ll come over for gumbo,” he said, catching Savannah’s eye for her reaction. “Sure, I want to see what’s down there, and sure, I have some tools we can use to cut that bush back…or down.”
“Good,” Max said, sounding somewhat relieved. “Come over anytime. We’ll eat around five.”
“Okay. Hey, my wife is mouthing me a message. Wait a minute.” When Michael returned to the phone, he said, “Max, what can we bring? Savannah wants to know what we can bring.”
“Just your tools. Oh, and a flashlight. Do you have a working flashlight?”
Michael chuckled. “Are you kidding? After what our wives went through earlier this year when that old flashlight of ours ran out of battery power out in the swamp, you can be sure I have a working flashlight. I’ll bet Maggie does, too.”
“You think so?” Max asked.
“Yeah, ask her,” Michael suggested. “I mean, no problem. I have one. Hey, we’ll be over as soon as the princess wakes up from her nap.” He grimaced. “Just a minute, Max, Savannah’s waving hand signals at me now. What, hon?”
A few moments later, into the phone, he said, “She wonders if it’s okay if we bring Rags to play with his buddy Layla. She actually believes those two cats have some sort of special relationship.”
“Of course, bring him. Layla is always intrigued by him.”
****
Over an hour later, the Ivey family, including Rags, arrived at the Sheridan household.
“Well, who’s this?” Savannah asked, upon seeing a black-and-white cat saunter into the living room.
“That’s Jack,” Max said. “Haven’t you met Jack?”
Savannah shook her head. “No, how long have you had him?”
Michael reached down and petted the cat’s long fur, murmuring, “Hi Jack, old boy.”
“You know him?” Savannah asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, he came to see me at the clinic the other day.”
“Why is he in here with your pets?” Savannah asked. “Are you keeping this one?”
“I guess we are,” Margaret said. “He’s a real sweetheart—curious as all get-out. He’s more dog-like than cat-like…” she nodded toward Rags, “…like him, actually.” Then, turning to Max, she cried, “Oh no, Max! What have we done? We’ve brought in a cat like Rags!”
Max grinned and reached out to run his hand over the willing cat. “He has a chronic kidney disease,” he explained. “Needs special care, sorta like Gizmo and Sammy. We can’t expect someone else to take on a cat with such challenges. So yeah, we’ll keep this one.”
Savannah leaned over and enticed the cat in her direction. After petting him for a moment, she said, “He seems like a real sweetie. Love that cobby-body look.” She greeted the cat, “Nice to meet you, Jack. This is Rags. He came to play with Layla.” Just then, Rags walked boldly up to Jack and began sniffing him. Everyone watched as Jack sat back on his haunches and slapped playfully at Rags, then turned and took off running into the kitchen. Rags seemed to understand the invitation and raced after him.
“Cute,” Margaret said. “No one else seems to have the energy to keep up with Jack. Looks like Rags will be a good playmate for him.”
After a second trip to the car to get the tools, Michael said to Max, “Hey, we’re burning daylight. Shall we get on with the project?”
“Yup,” Max replied, grabbing his jacket and leading the way out through the kitchen door. When he spotted their tangerine faux Persian curled up in one of several cat beds in the heated sunroom, he said, “There you are, Layla. Your friend Rags is here. Better go see him before Jack gets all his attention.”
The little cat looked up at Max, let out a prrrt, stretched, and headed at a fairly fast pace toward the kitchen, her long tangerine fur rippling against her sides.
The men chuckled.
“Do you think she understood his name?” Michael asked.
Max shook his head in contemplation. “You never know about these cats, Michael.”
Once outside, the two men went right to work cutting back the large shrub. They’d trimmed it down to about one-third when Michael asked, “Do you want to save it?”
Max stood back and surveyed the situation. “Naw, I don’t think it serves much purpose in the scheme of things, do you?”
“Not unless your tabbies want a good place to hide out again, I guess. It does look like it’s outlived its usefulness.”
“And its grace,” Max added.
“Grace?” Michael questioned.
“Well, yeah; it doesn’t exactly grace the place anymore, do you think?”
Michael glanced around the yard. “No, not really. Okay, all the way to the ground. I’ll send Antonio over to take the stump out, if you want.”
Max grimaced. “Yeah, that would be good. No hurry, though.”
“Timber,” Michael said as he cut the shrub off just above the ground.
Max took hold of the remains and dragged it around behind the cathouse, piling it up with the other cuttings. When he returned, Michael was sitting on the steps that led down to a door. “Is it locked?”
“Yup. Hand me that flashlight, will you?” He then asked, “Have you seen any stray keys around here?”
Max reached for the flashlight and gave it to Michael. “Sure. When I moved in, there were keys all over the place—in drawers, on shelves. Once I figured out what keys went where, I discarded the rest. It was either that or make a wind chime out of them, and I hate wind chimes.”
“Oh really? I didn’t know that about you, Max.”
“And here I thought I was an open book. Yeah, Michael, don’t give me any wind chimes for Christmas, okay?”
“Got it,” Michael said, resuming his examination of the lock on the mysterious hidden door at the bottom of the steps. He glanced up at Max. “Can you pick a lock? Is that one of your talents?”
Max grinned. “If I could, I probably wouldn’t admit to it.” He suggested, “Hey, go ahead and break it, if you’d like. I don’t mind. I just want to see what’s been living under my feet for all these years without my knowing it.”
“I don’t think we’ll have to break the door. I can take this piece of moulding off and probably jimmy the lock. It’s a si
mple lock; nothing sophisticated.”
“Go for it,” Max urged.
“Okayyy,” Michael said. After a couple of minutes, he announced, “Got it.”
“Good, let’s go in.”
“Wait. The spiders have probably taken over by now—maybe rats. Do you have an old broom we can use to whack down the webs?”
When Max returned with a broom, the women followed, Savannah carrying the baby, who was wrapped in a blanket.
“Awww, what did you bring him out here for?” Michael complained, when he saw Margaret holding Rags’s leash. You know he’s gonna get into trouble.”
Margaret couldn’t help but laugh.
Savannah chuckled. “Oh Michael, you’re so cute when you’re mad at Rags.”
“I’m not mad at him. I just…”
“Well, the truth is,” Margaret said, “the other kitties are having their supper and Rags thought he should be served, too. Vannie said he already ate, sooo, we thought we’d better remove the fox from the hen house.”
“Okay, then,” Michael said, taking the broom from Max. “Stand back; don’t want to shower you all with spider spit.”
“Spider spit?” Margaret said disgustedly.
“Yeah, isn’t that how they make their webs…using their spit?”
“No, Michael,” Savannah said, laughing. “It comes from the other end.”
Margaret cringed. “Ewww, even worse.”
Once Michael had cleared a path into the room, he said to Margaret and Max, “Okay, wanna see what’s living under your feet? So far, I’ve seen a gazillion spiders, and something that moved too fast to identify.”
The two women looked at each other. “Are you going in?” Margaret asked.
“Maybe,” Savannah said.
Margaret held out her hands. “Here, I’ll hold the baby while you go. Here’s your cat,” she said, handing the leash to Savannah, who looked from Michael to Max.
“I’ll follow you two,” she said.
“Come on, then.”
“What do you see in there?” Margaret called.
“If you were so curious, you should have come down,” Max said.
“I’m okay out here. Hey, take pictures!”
“Well, it appears they used to do some canning down here,” Savannah called out to her aunt. “There’s an old stove, a nice counter, and a big deep sink. There’s a shelf full of canning jars. Brrrr. Sure is cold. It would make a great root cellar.”
