The Cat's Pajamas

by Soraya May

  The question caught me by surprise. “Well…yeah. I do. Being with her…makes everything make more sense, for some reason.”

  “Huh.” Walking to the door, she yanked the handle, which rattled like it was about to come off. “Look, I’m not exactly relationship advice material, but it seems to me you need to decide what’s important here, and follow that no matter where it leads. You don’t get much in this life if you aren’t ready to fight for it.”

  “I guess so.”

  Bea climbed in the truck and shut the door, then peered at me through the window. “You okay, Egghead? You need a lift somewhere? I mean, I can’t exactly stop, but if you don’t mind jumping out while I slow down, I can maybe do that.”

  I was about to refuse; a re-enactment of a cop show with me bailing out of a car at speed wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but I thought for a minute. It was kind of her to offer. “Yeah, thanks. Can you drop me off at the library? I need to look at some more records about the bar.”

  She gestured to the passenger’s side. “That figures. Library it is, then.”

  Once inside, I found there was much more room on the passenger’s side seat; it was set way back. Bea noticed me looking at it.

  “Andy usually sits there, right?”

  She looked down for a minute at the gauges and nodded. “Guess I’m going to be doing all the driving from now on, if…”. Tailing off, she shook her head and reached for the handbrake. “No point worrying about it now.”

  I wanted to say it’s going to be okay, or some variant of the same sentiment, but it sounded hollow in my head, and I figured she wouldn’t appreciate it; something told me that Bea would be pretty scathing about platitudes.

  Not that she’d use the word ‘platitudes’, I thought; the word ‘bullshit’ was probably more her speed.

  The truck pulled off the grass and jolted onto the street, moving into the sparse traffic. Once the engine was running, it went well; I wasn’t a mechanic, but I could tell the smooth burble of a well-maintained engine, and it didn’t surge at low speeds or stutter. As she drove, I looked at Bea. She had an air of determination, just like Cat, but where Cat was tall and measured and self-assured, Bea was compact and fierce, spiky and almost combative in her movements.

  She and her brother were similar in appearance, but so different in manner; Andy was outgoing and accepting of people, quick to laugh and share a joke. His sister looked at people with a guardedness that verged on distrust, and I wondered about what had happened to them that should have made them so different.

  We lurched around a corner, and I could see the old fascia of the library approaching. The building was small, but pretty, built about sixty years ago from pale sandstone quarried a little way inland, and in the afternoon sun it glowed with a pale reflected light. I grabbed my bag from the back. “This is my stop, cabbie.”

  “Very funny.” Bea slowed down, and the car trundled almost to a halt. “Can you jump for it? I’d stop, but I’m afraid this car isn’t going to start again.”

  “No problem,” I grinned, “Watch my Evel Knievel act.” Opening the door, I paused. “Hey, let me know what happens with Andy, okay? Sometimes…sometimes it’s reassuring to know that someone’s got some good news.”

  Bea shrugged. “Sure. Thanks for the push, Egghead.”

  28

  Cat

  I picked my way through the piles of car parts, looking out for signs of movement. Let’s just hope she’s not holding some sort of power tool this time, I thought.

  I’d come back to the garage after a long afternoon of thinking. Ryan had disappeared again to the library this morning, and we hadn’t talked since being on the hills above the town. If he’d been in the basement excavating, I hadn’t seen him come and go. On the way here, I’d been turning over in my mind what he’d said.

  “Is going anywhere else something you’d do?”

  “What about your own happiness?”

  If I lost the bar, all this worry about getting the oven fixed, and trying to make a success of the place, was for nothing, anyway. So why was I even bothering? Why didn’t I just give up and move on?

  “Hey.” A noise behind me jerked me out of my thoughts. I turned, and saw Bea, stepping out from behind one of the piles. She was holding an angle-grinder in one hand. Uh-oh, I thought. I remember the one with Tina Turner in it, where they had to fight in the big dome, and… I got a hold of myself and with a conscious effort of will arranged my features into a smile.

  “Ah. Bea. I, uh, wanted to talk to you.” How the hell do you say this exactly?

  “Right.” The smaller woman looked at me, not moving. She didn’t look angry, but on the other hand she didn’t put the angle-grinder down. Holy crap she’s strong, I thought. That thing must weigh twenty pounds and she’s holding it there like it’s no big deal.

  “Look, it’s about Andy. I…” Oh well, no way to do it except to come out with it. “I’m sorry about what’s happened to Andy, okay? He needed my advice, and I didn’t want to abandon him. You know the only reason he didn’t tell you was because he knew you’d worry, right?”

  “Yeah. So I hear.” A flicker of expression.

  “So, I made him promise me that he was going to see a doctor, and that he was going to tell you. I really do think he was going to do both of those things, and he had no way of knowing what was going to happen.” I’d started, so I was determined to finish now, no matter what happened.

  “I guess not.” Bea looked around, and to my mild relief, put down the angle-grinder.

  “How’s he doing? If…if you don’t mind me asking.”

  Bea shrugged. “Sure. You’re a doctor.” She put her hands on her hips; for a moment the lost little-girl expression I’d seen at the market appeared, and then disappeared. “Turns out that my little brother has adult-onset epilepsy. Turns out he might have had it for a while. He might even have had seizures before, but this was the first big one.”

  I waited, and eventually she spoke again.

  “It’s never going to go away, but they say it’s manageable with medication, and as long as he knows what to do when he’s having a seizure, it won’t affect his life.”

  I nodded. “Right. I’m really glad we know what’s going on now.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” She looked away across the warehouse for a moment. “I talked to your boyfriend this morning.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s…” I don’t know what the hell he is.

  “Do you like him?”

  I was surprised by the question, and it took me a moment to answer. “Yes. Yes, I do.” Despite everything, it felt good to say it out loud. “I don’t know how we could last as a couple, but I do like him.”

  The dark eyebrows moved. “He has his moments. Look,” Bea sat down on one of the piles of car parts. She seemed to have a miraculous ability to find a comfortable seating position, and for a moment I wondered how she did it. “I was upset the other day, okay? I do appreciate you helping Andy. A lot.”

  Phew. “Thanks. I don’t like keeping secrets from people, so this didn’t sit easily with me.”

  “Do you like Andy?” Bea’s tone was carefully neutral.

  “Yeah, I like him a lot, Bea. But I know what you mean, and the answer is no. He’s just a friend, okay?”

  Bea nodded, leaning forward with one hand on her chin like Rodin’s Thinker, if Rodin had been an auto mechanic. “Okay. I thought you were going to string him along, and maybe I was a bit hard on you as a result.”

  “It’s okay. I know you guys care about each other a lot. So it makes sense that you were a bit, uh, protective.” What Bea would do to a woman she thought was stringing her little brother along hardly bore thinking about, and I hoped I never found out. Mental note, Farrah: not this guy.

  “I guess I am. When we were kids, we had a lot of…we just only had each other, right?” Bea put both hands out in front of her, opening and closing them slowly. “So I had to look after him, and I got in a bit of trouble bec
ause of him. A few fights.”

  “Right.” I stayed as quiet as I could for a minute.

  “But maybe if I’d treated him a bit more like a grown-up lately, this wouldn’t have happened the way it did.”

  “Hey, listen.” I took a deep breath. “I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to make sure he does what he’s supposed to. I might not be licensed to practice medicine here, but he did come to me, and I think he might listen to me. At least a bit.”

  Bea chuckled, the sound echoing around the warehouse. “Maybe between the two of us, we can get him to take better care of himself, huh?”

  “It’s a deal.” I smiled, and felt an inward sense of relief.

  “Now, what about this oven of yours?”

  My heart sank. “I don’t know. I honestly have no idea how much it’s going to cost.”

  The other woman put her hands on her thighs, and stood up. A few car parts clattered off the pile, and she kicked at them with her heel. “Huh.” She was silent for a minute. “Tell you what, okay?”

  There was a pause, and it was long enough that I gradually understood I was expected to respond here. “Uh, what?”

  “I found some old electrics from an oven out the back. They look like they’re in okay condition. And,” she paused again, and I could tell she was choosing her words with care, “because you helped Andy, I won’t charge you for the work.”

  I was temporarily mute. “Are you sure? That’s…that’s really kind of you.”

  “Yeah, it’ll be okay. I’ve got some spare time, even with taking over Andy’s jobs while he’s in the hospital. Besides, you didn’t judge me, and I appreciate that.”

  “Judge you?”

  “Yeah. A lot of people think I’m pretty difficult when they first meet me.”

  My face was carefully neutral. “That. Is their big mistake.”

  “Yeah.” Bea picked up the angle grinder again. “But you better not tell anyone I’m doing this job for free, okay? Don’t want people thinking I’m some kind of soft touch. If I find out anyone else knows…”

  She brandished the angle grinder at me, her face stern. I smiled and cocked my head, holding her gaze. After a few moments, Bea cracked; she smiled back, a little sheepishly.

  “I won’t tell a soul.” I said, still smiling. “Come on over whenever you’re ready, okay? And let me know when Andy gets out of hospital.” She turned and looked at the door. “I’d better get back to the bar.”

  “Will do. Catch you later.” Another pause. “Buddy.”

  I walked out, blinking in the sunshine. For the first time in a while, I felt like things were looking up.

  29

  Cat

  “You can open your eyes now.”

  I opened my eyes, and looked around. Ryan sat across from me, hands behind his back, a smile on his face.

  “Okay, Mr. Clever, what’s this all about?” He’d led me downstairs, saying he had a present for me, and now he was being all mysterious about it. I’d played along for a while, but now my curiosity was piqued.

  “This.” Ryan’s hand came from behind his back, and I gasped with delight. He was holding a little wooden figurine of a cat no more than three inches tall, sitting upright with its paws together. The cat’s tail curled around its body, and light and dark patches in the wood from which it was carved gave it a quizzical expression.

  “Do you like it?” Ryan’s face was openly hopeful. He held it out to me. “I made it from some of the leftover wood in the basement. It gave me something to do when I needed a break from digging very small holes, and separating bits of dirt from other bits of dirt.”

  “I love it, Ryan. It’s beautiful.” I leaned forward and kissed him.

  “I made it because.” He swallowed. “I want you to not forget me, okay? That’s all I ask.” Looking down at the floor, he almost mumbled. “Please, just don’t forget me, that’s all.”

  A pang went through my heart, and I put my arms around him. “Oh, Ryan, please don’t think that. I’ll never forget you. I promise. I promise.”

  He drew a long breath. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

  “I couldn’t even if I tried.” I held the figurine up to the light, and turned it around. “I had no idea you were a woodcarver as well.”

  “I’m not. This is the first time I’ve done anything, well, artistic like this.” He grinned. “I’m just lucky your name isn’t ‘Crocodile’, or ‘Centipede’, otherwise I would have had a much tougher job.”

  “Right, of course. Good old Crocodile Milsom, my long-lost sister.” I kissed him again, grasping him by the lapels of his jacket. “I think I’m pretty lucky too, somehow. In fact,” I moved forward, hiking up my dress and straddling him on the chair, “I think I should thank you properly, right here and now.”

  “Oh, Cat.” Ryan put his arms around me as I pressed into him, feeling the heat of him surge against me. His hands slid over my back, tracing a line down my spine, making me arch with pleasure. Lips still locked, I ran my hands through his hair, urgent, needy.

  “Yes, just like that…please,” I put my hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding. With one hand, I started to unbutton his shirt, tugging urgently at the buttons. Ryan leaned back and pressed himself into me, making me inhale sharply.

  I was already wet, and the feeling of his hardness against my panties excited me even more, made me think about how much he wanted me, right now. “Now. Here.” I slid one hand down to his zipper, and fumbled with it again. “This damn zipper. Why don’t you wear button flies more?”

  Ryan chuckled, his hands sliding up underneath my skirt, and over my ass. “I’ll see what I can do. Planning a visit to the menswear store already.”

  “Good.” I stood up, desire flooding through me, and unzipped him, taking him in my hand. “Mmm, just what I was hoping for.”

  He let out another deep noise of satisfaction. “Damn, I will never cease to be amazed by just how good you are at that.”

  “I’d curtsey, but right now,” I breathed, slipping off my panties, and straddling him again, “I want…you,” guiding his hardness into me, “deep inside me.” I slid down onto him with a sigh of pure relief. “Oh, fuck, yes, Ryan. Right there.” I began to ride him, slowly at first, moving back and forth on him, feeling him filling me deliciously. Grasping his shoulders, I ground against him, every stroke sending ripples of pleasure up into my chest, and down into my toes.

  “Ohhh, that’s really good, Cat. Just keep doing that.” Ryan leaned back on the chair and braced himself against the floor, pushing up into me as I rode him, shamelessly, there in the bar. My hunger for the pleasure he could give me was overwhelming, and with every stroke I wanted more.

  Increasing the tempo of my movement, I dug my fingers hard into his shoulders, feeling the corded muscle beneath them. Ryan gripped me around the waist, guiding me back and forth, harder and deeper.

  My breath was coming in short gasps now. I lifted my feet off the floor, and brought all my weight down on him, driving him even deeper inside me with every stroke. “Oh…fuck, Ryan, yes.” I could feel my climax approaching, and I wanted him to come inside me at the same time.

  Pulling me close to him, Ryan kissed my collarbone, feverish, hungry. “Do you want to come like this, huh? You want to come right here, on top of me, don’t you?”

  “Y-yeah, ohh…fuck, yes, I do.” I struggled to get the words out as Ryan pushed up inside me, almost hard enough to hurt. I could feel myself balanced on the edge, his shaft hard and pulsing inside me, and I knew he was about to explode. “Just…just like that. Come inside me…please. Fuck, yes.”

  Ryan gasped as he started to come. “Cat, I—oh, fuck, yes.” As he gave himself to me, I tipped over the precipice, and stars exploded behind my eyes. As if from a distance, I could hear myself crying out, a ragged, drawn-out sound of pure pleasure as I clung to him as hard as I could.

  Gradually, slowly, I came back to myself, and the heat in my body began to fade like waves receding fr
om a shoreline. Ryan’s hold around my waist had softened from the hard grasp of passion, to a gentle clasp of affection, keeping me steady. Opening my eyes, I saw him looking at me.

  “Wow.” I took a deep breath. “That was…unexpectedly intense.”

  He smiled a slow smile of satisfaction. “It certainly was. I’m very glad you enjoyed it.” Shifting his weight, he slipped out of me. “How are your knees? Not the sexiest post-coital question, I know, but I don’t want you cramping up.”

  I kissed him on the forehead. “Always the gentleman, concerned for my wellbeing. I’m okay.” Clinging to him for just a minute, I wanted to savor the last, lazy feeling of him next to me, warm and wet and satisfied. “The main problem is that I don’t really want to let you up.” Hooking my arms around his neck, I kissed him again. “I wish we could just stay here like this for a few hours. At least until we get hungry.”

  Ryan leaned back and exhaled. “I think that’s a very good idea. Keeping you without panties is a definite plus in my—”

  There was a knock at the door, sharp and insistent.

  “Oh, shit.” I stiffened. “I think that’s…”

  Ryan lifted me up bodily, standing up as he did so. “You were expecting someone?”

  I winced. “Yeah, I think it’s Bea come to look at the oven. Crap.” Looking around frantically for my panties, I waved a hand. “She’s not as bad as I’d thought, but let’s not frighten the poor girl.” Raising my voice and trying to sound as natural and non-post-coital as possible, I called out. “Just a minute.”

  Ryan bent over and handed me my panties. “Somehow I don’t think this would frighten her. But, yeah, let’s observe some basic decorum.”

  “Speaking of basic decorum,” I pointed to his unbuttoned fly, “maybe you should, uh…”

  He grinned and zipped himself up. “Whoops. Yes, indeed.”