"Right," Rowena said. Sammy waved cheerfully, and he and Mike were gone. Rowena looked at her watch. Half an hour. When they came back they would have the cat tree with them, and the cat also. When Sammy and Mike came back, it would be time to move the animals upstairs, and then to introduce them.
She went back down to her old apartment, where Linus greeted her with wagging tail and dancing feet. Her couch was upstairs in the new place, so she sat down on the carpet; such a lot of carpet there was now.
Her first apartment. She had been happy here. She and Linus both.
"You're such a good boy," she told him. "Can you be a very good boy? Can you be friends with a cat?"
He was sure he was a good boy, but that was the only part he understood. "You're going to have two people to spoil you now," she told him. "Two people. And--and maybe you and Caesar . . ."
She didn't know Linus' history from before the animal shelter. He did try to chase cats he saw on his walks, but he didn't snarl at them, and he behaved himself fairly well in the veterinarian's waiting room. She did not know what he would do if he met a cat nose-to-nose and off his leash.
"Cats aren't big and tough like you," she told him. Not that Linus was all that much bigger than Caesar. "Cats are delicate. You're going to have to be very nice to the cat. Very gentle. Can you be gentle with a cat?"
Linus wagged his tail and licked her hand. She'd known he could be gentle with her.
"We'll have much of the same furniture," she said brightly. "And we can go for the same walks, except that now we'll be going up and down the stairs too; won't that be fun? Going up and down the stairs?" She ruffled up his fur, and Linus wagged his whole body.
She couldn't give up her dog.
And she couldn't let him hurt or terrorize Sammy's cat.
"You'll work something out," Terese had said. "I don't know how he feels about cats, but he's a good dog."
"Call the thrift shop and cancel the pick-up," Berna had advised. "Especially your bed. And pay another couple week's rent on your old place so your landlady won't give it to somebody else in the meantime."
Her mother: "If they don't get along, make Sammy buy you a house, or at least rent one. Then Linus can live in the backyard and the cat can stay inside." Rowena wondered why she ever told her mother--or Berna--anything at all.
"Well," she said to Linus. "They'll be here any minute. Are you ready?" She remembered Mike's comments as they'd removed Rowena's desk from the old apartment. First he'd said that Linus was a vicious beast who'd nearly slobbered his hand off, and a couple of minutes he later informed Rowena that she shouldn't rely on her dog for home security. She sat quietly, petting Linus under the chin. She wanted to make herself a cup of tea, except that she had already taken her teapot and all her dishes upstairs.
She had taken everything upstairs, everything that she was going to keep. Everything except Linus and his supplies.
She heard Sammy and Mike outside her window, approaching; she heard their voices. She took a deep breath, bundled Linus into his pet carrier, and closed the carrier door. And then she opened it again and reached in to scratch him behind the ears. "Good boy," she whispered. "There's a good boy." She closed the door again and picked up his dog bed and the carrier. She stepped out onto the landing and joined the procession: Mike, with his arms full of disassembled cat tree; Sammy, with Caesar in his carrier, and finally Rowena, with Linus and his doggie bed, an assortment of toys riding precariously inside.
"Everybody okay back there?" Mike called back. His burden was the largest and, Rowena suspected, the heaviest. "Is the cat-killing monster good and hungry?"
"Mike," said Sammy, more or less tolerantly. And, to Rowena, "Don't worry."
Rowena smiled at him. "Good boy," she said to Linus. She hoped he would be a good boy.
Mike managed to open the door, and they trooped in after him.
Into their new home.
They put the pet carriers on the floor, not too close and not facing each other. "Put the tree over there," Sammy said, pointing.
"Well." Rowena watched Mike with the cat tree. In his carrier, Linus made a small scuffling sound.
"See, Caesar?" Sammy was saying. He turned Caesar's carrier so the cat could watch Mike fit together the pieces of his tree, then tip it upright. "This is our home now. See? There's your tree." He looked at Rowena. "So. Think it's time?"
Rowena nodded. They turned the carriers so that the barred doors faced each other, then knelt next to them. Good dog; good cat. I'm right here. Linus came curiously forward to stick his nose against the door; Caesar just sat and watched. "Sniff sniff sniff," Rowena said. "That's a cat. His name is Caesar. He's going to be your friend now, right?" Linus watched attentively as Caesar continued to do nothing.
"Come on, Caesar," Sammy said. "Say hello to Linus." But Caesar did not say hello; at least, not so Rowena noticed. After a while the humans, thinking their pets needed more time and perhaps a little quiet, retired to the couch, where they spoke softly among themselves, making, they hoped, a calming, reassuring background for the meeting.
There was very little sound from the pet carriers.
Finally Rowena and Sammy got up and resumed their former positions. They spoke to the animals again, and then looked at each other.
"Ready?" Sammy asked. Rowena nodded. They pulled the carriers a little farther apart, then opened the doors.
Linus came out promptly; Caesar did not. Rowena held Linus back while Sammy coaxed and petted. Eventually Caesar emerged, and Rowena, after a moment, allowed Linus to go, rather more slowly than he had in mind, to get acquainted.
"Easy," Sammy said, steadying Caesar with his hands. The cat quailed nervously back from Linus but allowed himself to be sniffed. "Easy there, Linus; good boy," Rowena was saying, when Caesar drew himself together, swiped Linus across the nose, and shot up to the top of his cat tree.
Linus let out a yip, Sammy cried, "Oh, Caesar!" and Rowena drew her dog into her lap to comfort him. She looked at his nose; he was not very hurt. Her big fierce cat-killing dog. He huddled against her, whimpering a bit; she cuddled him and murmured reassurances until he quieted. She looked up at Caesar, crouched angrily in his tree; she could almost hear him calling Linus names. "What now?" she asked.
Sammy sighed. "He'll come down when he's ready," he said.
"But--"
"It'll be okay. He just has to calm down a little and realize that Linus isn't a threat."
Threat, indeed. "Come on, Caesar." she said. "Nobody's going to hurt you." She realized she'd just been saying almost the exact same thing to her dog.
"`Of course not,' he says, `because I'm stayin' here where it's safe.'" Rowena had forgotten Mike was there. He shrugged. "Well," he said. "Nothing to do but wait."
"For what? For my cat to be overcome by the force of your logic?"
"No, for your cat to get tired of all this and come down of his own accord. He's a cat. He's not going to listen to logic." Mike went to the couch and sat down. "Even my logic," he said.
"What do you mean, even yours? Is that supposed to be good or bad?"
Rowena sat and petted her dog. Nothing to do but wait.
For a while they tried ignoring him. Rowena continued to pet Linus as Mike helped Sammy hook up and test the entertainment center equipment.
"Linus'll be okay," Sammy said. "Caesar's not going to hunt him down or anything."
"I know," said Rowena. She ruffled up Linus' fur and Linus aimed some more slobber at her.
He wasn't afraid.
Rowena and Sammy, finally on their own, really truly living together, cuddled up on the couch in Caesar's view and watched a television show. Not quite the way Rowena had thought their new life would begin, but it had begun.
Caesar stayed where he was. Rowena and Sammy went to bed, to their bed, not just his; made love, and afterwards took a last peek at the new living room, Sammy standing right behind Rowena, holding her to him, the two of them looking at their apartment with all their
things in it, and Caesar still in his tree. Except for Caesar's misgivings, everything seemed to belong: It really looked like a home. Their home. Sammy kissed her neck and they turned at last and went back to their bed, together, leaving Caesar behind. And then with Sammy's arm warm around her and Linus (as usual) eschewing his dog bed to curl up at her feet, and with no sound at all coming from the living room, Rowena fell asleep.
She woke to find Sammy smiling at her. "Good morning," he said.
"Good morning."
He leaned over and kissed her. "Breakfast in bed?"
"Sure." And then Sammy rose and she said. "Oh. Thank you."
"You thought I was asking you for breakfast in bed? What do you think I am, a husband?" He gave her another kiss and climbed over her, put his feet on the floor.
Rowena noticed that her dog was missing. "Where's Linus?" she asked.
"He was gone when I woke up. Admittedly, not very long ago." Sammy lifted his bathrobe from its hanger. "You just stay there and relax," he said. "I'll call you if I blow up the kitchen." He grinned at her, and left.
"On second thought," he called back, "why don't you come on out?"
She hastened into her robe and out to the living room. Linus lay near the couch, chewing his tug-of-war towel; he thumped the floor with his tail when he saw her. Also on the floor and not three feet from Linus sat Caesar, washing a paw, utterly unconcerned.
All day the animals got along well enough. Only once did Linus get too playful in Caesar's immediate vicinity, but even then he didn't get scratched for it. On Monday Rowena went off to work, and in the evening she came home to find both animals waiting at the door.
"Hi, guys! How goes it?" Linus danced around her and Caesar, hanging back just a bit, waited patiently to be petted. Rowena petted both of them, called Sammy's name but got no response. The agreement was that the first one home would fix dinner, so Rowena excused herself to wash up.
In the kitchen Rowena opened up her new cupboards, selected one of her old familiar pots and a less-familiar pot of Sammy's, and put them on the new stove. Old things and new, and no more single portions. Linus pranced around, Caesar watching tolerantly, until Sammy arrived.
"Rowena?" Sammy called.
She went to meet him and they managed, despite Linus, to kiss.
"So," Rowena said, heading back to the kitchen, "how was your day?" She smiled at him; she had been waiting to say that. She put the last dish on the table and sat down.
"My day was fine," Sammy said. "But it looks like my night's gonna be better."
Rowena looked at him and smiled. "I think," she said," that a lot of things are gonna be better." And she reached across the table for his hand.
Rowena Bakes a Cake
Fiction by S. D. Youngren
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Rowena sighed. "Oh, Sammy," she said. "Already?"
"Believe me, I don't like it any more than you do. Maybe even less." Rowena had to smile a little; Sammy was, after all, the one who was having to work late.
"I know I wouldn't be seeing you at all if we still lived in separate apartments," Rowena said. "But I was hoping our first week, at least . . ."
"I know, darling. Me, too." Slight pause. "Look, I gotta go now. I'm sorry. I'll see you tonight."
"Okay," Rowena said. "See you tonight."
Rowena stared a moment at the phone. This wasn't exactly a honeymoon; they'd just spent the weekend moving into a new apartment, and on Monday they each went back to work. But all the same, she'd wanted their first few days--their first few evenings--to be special. Perfect, even. And now . . .
She could still do something special. Something special for Sammy, if not actually with him. A nice surprise for Sammy; a nice welcome for him. And a little reminder for her.
She could--if she had time. She looked at the clock, considered. With a simple, familiar recipe . . .
She went to her cupboards and began pulling out ingredients.
There was something about the first cake in her new place, in her new oven. Something ceremonial, significant. Especially, somehow, a cake made from one of her standby recipes. A sort of baptism, almost, and a good omen for the future: Starting her new life with something both beautiful and homey. She began the familiar rituals: Preheat oven, melt chocolate, measure cake flour, sugar, baking soda, salt . . .
And answer the phone. "Hello?"
"Hello, dear," said her mother. "How is everything?"
"Um, fine," Rowena said. She glanced at the clock, nervously; no time to stand and talk. She edged over to the egg carton on the counter, picked it up, took it over to the mixing bowl. The phone cord stretched farther than she liked; she moved the bowl a bit, scooting it on the countertop.
"Oh, good," her mother was saying. "And how is Sammy?"
Rowena settled the receiver as securely as she could against her shoulder. "Well, he has to work late today, but other--"
"He's working late?" her mother cried. "Tonight?"
"Yes, he--"
"Rowena," said her mother, "you can't have this. You--"
"Mother, there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing. Sammy doesn't want to work late, but his boss--"
"Are you sure he has to work? He's not choosing to stay away?"
"Yes," Rowena said. "I am sure." She picked up an egg--which slipped from her fingers and smashed on the floor.
"You want to make sure he's comfortable at home," her mother argued. "You have to make him want to be there. You have to make a real home for Sammy, so he'll understand what a good wife you'll be. That way--"
"Mother, please." There was a commotion at her feet; Linus had arrived to clean up the mess. She quickly removed the shells, but otherwise let Linus--joined, after a moment, by Caesar--lick the floor clean. At least they aren't fighting over it, she thought.
"You can't afford to be making mistakes," her mother insisted. "Look what happened to your sister. She wouldn't make a proper home for Brian, and--"
"Proper home? A proper boyfriend was what she needed. The only apartment advice that would have done Maralynne any good would have been to kick Brian out of it."
"Rowena!"
"Mother, Sammy and I are fine. Honest. We are fine. Look, I have to go; I have things to do. Talk to you later." She didn't tell her mother about the cake; she didn't want to appear to be taking her mother's advice, even if she had started before the advice was given. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to get back into her cake-baking mood, but on a warm day and with the stove and oven going the kitchen was too stuffy for a satisfying deep breath. She should have a nicer place for Sammy to come home to; what was the point of going to all the trouble of baking a special cake only to serve it in a sauna? She opened a couple of windows.
Add remaining ingredients without dropping eggs, and mix. And into the pans, and into the oven. She set the timer, checked the clock again. Pretty tight, timewise, especially with dinner to prepare and the mess to clean up. But it wouldn't take her long to make spaghetti . . .
She cleared off the table, got out her cooling racks and set them up under Caesar's curious gaze. "What do you think of that?" she asked. "Ever smell anything like that before?" This was the first time she, at least, had ever baked a cake with Caesar around. She doubted Sammy had ever done such a thing. Caesar looked up at her and gave a single clear meow. He did not do this often. "I hope that means you approve," she said, though she suspected he just wanted more petting. She obliged, then had to pet Linus a little too. "Gonna make me even later, huh?" she asked them. "I should make you help. I should. I should."
She went back to work, but paused just for a moment as she threw away the egg carton she had just emptied. Eggs she'd bought back when she still lived in her old apartment; eggs that had actually moved in here before she did, if only just. Eggs from her old life, all gone now.
The garbage bag was uncomfortably full. Rowena glanced at the timer, took another pee
k at her cake, which was rising nicely, then lifted the bag and carried it carefully to the front door. "All right, you guys," she said. "Stay back, now." She got the door open, slipped through it, turned around to close it and
WHAM!
The door slammed itself with a crash.
She had forgotten about the open windows.
Rowena closed her eyes. A sick, heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach; she knew, absolutely knew, that the cake had fallen. She had never ruined a cake before, but she knew all the same. "Damn," she whispered. "Damn."
She trudged out to the dumpster, got rid of the trash, and trudged back again. She washed her hands, then went into the kitchen. She was afraid to look, but looked anyway.
S.D. Youngren - Rowena 6 - Rowena Moves In.txt Page 13
