by Ali Brandon
Darla nodded. “Hamlet will be glad to help if you ever need his assistance plugging another event. Just send us an email.”
They had reached the doorway when Jake abruptly halted.
“I almost forgot, I bought this for Trixie,” she said, reaching into the plastic bag and holding up a pink collar liberally studded with rhinestones. “Chelsea,” she called, “how do you think this would look on your new kitty?”
Chelsea looked up from the kitten she was snuggling to her chest, and exclaimed, “It’s beautiful, like diamonds. And pink is my favorite color.”
“Well, it’s probably Trixie’s favorite color, too. So why don’t I give it and all these other kitty things to you to give to her as a happy adoption present?”
“Mommy, can I?”
Her mother raised a hand in protest. “Oh no, we couldn’t.”
“Really, you’d be doing me a favor,” Jake countered, handing the bag off to Marie. “We’re leaving tomorrow, and I wouldn’t have time to take them back.”
“All right, then. Chelsea, tell the nice lady thank you.”
“Thank you,” the girl obediently echoed, waving one of Trixie’s paws at her. “Trixie says thanks, too.”
Jake gave a curt nod and glanced at Darla. “C’mon, kid,” she muttered. “Let’s get out of here before I start bawling like a baby.”
Darla didn’t need any further encouragement, for she was already wiping away a few tears of her own.
They hurried back to the Mini Cooper, Hamlet trotting alongside them. At the driver’s door, however, Jake paused and then tossed the zebra-striped keychain over the top of the car to Darla. “You mind driving us back?”
“Not at all,” she said, and quickly swapped places. Once they were settled inside, Hamlet crouched between them on the center console and, once his leash was securely fastened to the driver’s seat headrest, Darla turned to her friend.
“You know, everyone thinks you’re so badass, but you’re just a marshmallow inside,” she exclaimed. “That was such a noble thing to do.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Jake said with a wave of her hand. “You can mail me my good conduct medal. Anyhow, I’m sure Hamlet’s pretty pleased that he’ll still be the lord of the manor back home.”
“I’m not so sure. I think he rather liked Trixie.”
“Well, either way, it wasn’t meant to be. So let’s stop yapping about it and head back to the condo.”
Darla nodded and cranked the engine, and then glanced at her watch. “It’s almost lunchtime,” she said as she pulled out of the lot. “How about we call Nattie and see if she wants to go to that Cuban restaurant again?”
“Here’s a better idea. How about we hit one of those surf bars we saw on the water-taxi tour? They all have outdoor seating, so Hamlet should be allowed in.”
Darla considered that a moment and then shook her head. “It’s the weekend. Too many people, and the music will be too loud. Hamlet would be miserable.”
“I suppose we don’t have to take him with—ouch!”
Darla looked past Hamlet to see Jake rubbing the side of her head. “What happened?”
“I think Hamlet just slapped me,” she said in disbelief.
Darla had paused at a stop sign, so she had time to shoot a stern glance at the feline. He sat crouched with his paws tucked innocently against his chest, his attention seemingly on the road ahead, but as if feeling Darla’s gaze on him, he turned his head and gave her a slow blink.
Darla stifled a snicker and returned her attention to the road. “Hamlet says he didn’t do it,” she told her friend. “You must have gotten your hair caught in the seatbelt or something.”
“Yeah, it was ‘or something,’ all right,” Jake muttered, but she was smiling as she said it.
Darla thought for a moment, and then said, “I’ve got an idea. How about we give Tino a call? He can haul all four of us around town in his taxi for a couple of hours. Of course, the first stop has to be at his sister’s bakery.”
“Good idea, we’ll need a couple of bags of Cuban pastries for sustenance,” Jake agreed. “And we can always stop somewhere for Cuban coffee, too.”
“How about we take Nattie to the surf shop and see about signing her up for a lesson?” Darla suggested, getting into the spirit of things. “And after that, we can have Tino take us to one of those bars, and Hamlet can snooze in the taxi while we have piña coladas or something. What do you think?”
“Sounds like fun,” Jake said as she turned to the cat. “Hamlet, are you in?”
Hamlet roused himself to a seated position again, balancing like a pro on the console. And then he raised one paw. Darla and Jake exchanged glances before bursting out laughing.
“Fist bump!” they chorused, touching knuckles over Hamlet’s head before each lightly brushing the cat’s paw.
“Looks like we’re all bros now,” Darla exclaimed in triumph, putting her hands back on the wheel. “I can’t wait to tell Robert. What do you say, Hammy?”
Hamlet merely blinked again, and then purred.
