by Amy Reece
“Mrow.”
“Would you mind if I took a quick peek under your tail? I know it’s terribly intrusive, but he sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.” She turned the cat and lifted the tail. “He’s right. You’re a girl. CJ, huh? I guess I can go with it, but you don’t need all the gritty details about your namesake.” She smiled as she thought about the similarities between the street-wise, sometimes prostitute from the Old West and the feline sitting on her lap. She decided she’d make a quick trip to PetSmart after dinner for a new collar and tag.
Both CJ and Fluff perked up when they smelled the salmon Melanie was searing on the stovetop and she ended up splitting the fillet with them. CJ jumped on the table when she finished her portion and proceeded to wash, licking her paws and rubbing them across her furry face. Fluff retreated to his little blue bed and was soon snoring. “Don’t get used to this kind of dinner every night. You caught me in a weak moment.” She cleared the table and washed her dishes by hand, enjoying the warmth of the sudsy water. Aunt Karen had finally had a dishwasher installed last year, right before Melanie moved in. She had never bothered before, claiming a single woman had no need for one, but had wanted to make things as easy as possible for her great-niece. Melanie wouldn’t have cared and often still washed up by hand. She changed out of her yoga pants, donning a pair of jeans in honor of actually leaving the house for the first time in several days, and checked her hair. She sighed at her reflection, wishing there was just a bit more…oomph. There was nothing hideous, of course, but everything about her was so average: average height, common brown hair, brown eyes, and an extremely average figure. Nothing like any of the women she’d seen coming and going from her neighbor’s house. Ugh! Why did she have to think about that now? Her fragile self-esteem certainly didn’t need any more blows. Snap out of it, girl! Nobody likes a pity party.
At the store, she chose a pink rhinestone collar for CJ and added a few toys and treats, including some for Fluff. For someone who never planned to own a pet, she was suddenly spending an inordinate amount of money and time on two of them. Oh, well. She could afford it, especially since Aunt Karen had left everything to Melanie, including the house. It wasn’t riches, exactly, but it certainly eased the budget strain. Melanie would trade it all for five more minutes with her aunt, but knew it was a selfish wish since the elderly woman had been in such pain toward the end, the cancer eating away at her wasted body. She pushed the maudlin memories aside and focused her thoughts on the furry beasts waiting for her at home. The two animals were company and kept her from talking to herself. Besides, they were awfully cute.
“Miss CJ, you look glorious!” she said as she sat back to admire the new collar and tag she’d fastened around the cat’s neck. CJ was practically prancing, showing off her new collar. “And you too, Fluff. You are so handsome.” She’d picked out a blue plaid collar she thought would look nice against his white fur. Was it her imagination, or did the elderly dog seem younger since the cat showed up? “You two will have to amuse yourselves with your new toys because I still have several hours of work ahead.” Nevertheless, she spent a few more minutes throwing the catnip mouse for CJ.
She stepped onto the front porch for a few minutes of fresh evening air and gazed down the street toward his house. The curtains were closed, but the lights were on and a car was in the driveway. Another girlfriend? Or the same one as before? She wondered where he’d been for the past few months and why he was suddenly back. She stared for a few more minutes then went back inside to write for several hours. Days were for graphic design, her paying job, but evenings were set aside for the romance novels she adored writing. She dreamed of one day writing full time, but her current royalty checks were somewhat underwhelming, to say the least. Nevertheless, it was pure joy to create characters and plot twists and to hear from readers who loved her book.
She fired up her laptop and lost herself for the next three hours.
***
Finn
Dear Nice Man,
Well, it’s official: I’m a girl. Nice Lady checked and realized you were correct. She’s somewhat embarrassed, but she’ll get over it, I’m sure. Best of all, she gave me a bit of salmon to make up for getting all up in my business. All she will tell me about my name is that it is in honor of a heroine of the Old West, but she was definitely smirking when she said it, so I’m not sure I trust her.
Nice Lady is still reeling about the fact that you have five siblings! She’s an only child and says she can’t imagine what growing up in such a large family was like. She wants to know if you’re the oldest, youngest, etc.? She worries that she’s being nosy, though, and, if so, apologizes and retracts the question.
Either way, she hopes you have a lovely day and enjoy reading your newspaper.
Sincerely,
CJ Catson
Finn grinned and stroked the cat purring on his lap. He’d noticed the glitzy pink collar right away and had eagerly checked for a note. He’d been worried his last note had offended her and the amusing exchange would be over, nixing the possibility of ever meeting her. God, I need to get out of this chair! I’m desperate enough to look forward to passing notes with my mysterious neighbor via a damn cat. If she’d wanted to meet, she would have come by to introduce herself when I first moved in. He refused to entertain the idea that he could have done the same thing. He’d been so busy with work, family, and his girlfriend he hadn’t made time to meet neighbors. But two of those things were no longer an issue, so he found himself with enough time on his hands to be curious.
The pounding on the front door startled the cat and she leaped off his lap, using plenty of claw to gain traction on his leg, and hid under the sofa. “Finn? You in there? Open the goddamn door! My hands are full!”
He wheeled to the door and opened it to reveal his partner, Chris, holding two cups of coffee with a brown bag clutched precariously under one arm. “Where else would I be? Please say you brought bagels.”
She stepped past him, dropping the bag in his lap. “Of course I brought bagels. You look like shit, by the way.”
“Really?” he asked around a giant bite of green chile bagel with a plain shmear—Chris knew exactly what he liked—and wheeled after her to the kitchen table. “I guess I should go change into my tux, huh? You think it’ll fit over this big-ass cast?”
“I’ll help you rip the pants open. Okay, no tux, but when was the last time you shaved? This homeless look doesn’t do much for you.” She handed him the coffee she’d brought for him, strong and dark, as he preferred.
He scratched his scruffy beard at her words. “I agree, but I can’t stand in front of the mirror yet, so homeless it is. Unless you want to lend a hand?”
“Ah, hell to the no, partner. That’s definitely a job for your mom or Tat—” She stopped, horrified at her slip. “God, Finn! I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” It was anything but fine.
“That bitch! She didn’t deserve you.” Chris tossed her half-eaten bagel on the table and grabbed her coffee cup angrily.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anymore. So, what’s new at the precinct? Any interesting cases?” He was grateful she hadn’t requested a new partner, apparently resigned to waiting for him to recuperate. They’d only been working together for a couple months when a hit-and-run driver had taken him out of commission. She was a great partner and they balanced each other well.
“Not really. We picked up that John Doe discovered behind the dumpster. Other than that it’s been pretty slow. People just aren’t killing each other in this town lately.”
“Selfish bastards! Are they trying to put us out of a job?”
She chuckled and he hoped they could move past her inadvertent mention of his ex. “Well, we may be light on new cases, but there are plenty of cold cases sitting around gathering dust. You game for glancing through a few files while you sit around here on your ass?”
He was barely able to tamp down his
enthusiasm. He was dying of boredom and would kill for a chance to do some actual work. “I guess I could set aside my bonbons and turn off my soaps for a couple hours. Can you bring them by tomorrow?”
Chris grinned and took another bite of her bagel, chewing slowly. “They’re in the car.”
He crumpled his napkin and threw it at her. “Brat.”
“You love me. You know you do.”
“It’s a good thing, huh?” She was his first partner since he’d made detective and they had hit it off immediately. She was a tall, intimidating woman a few years older than Finn who took nonsense from no one. Whenever they questioned a perp, she was definitely the bad cop, something that amused Finn no end.
“So, what’s with the cat? I thought you were allergic.” CJ had made her way from under the sofa, onto Finn’s lap, across the kitchen table, and onto Chris’s lap.
“No, that was Tatiana. She was allergic to everything, even cinnamon.”
“What? No one’s allergic to cinnamon. That’s bullshit!”
“Well, that’s what she told me.” He really didn’t want to talk about his ex-girlfriend. He’d woken from a 10-day coma to discover she couldn’t handle the stress of a boyfriend seriously injured and had left him. His family had to tell him about the break-up. Christ, he’d been about to ask her to move in with him! He’d actually contemplated marrying her! His relationship radar was obviously broken.
“I think she had a pathological need for attention, that’s what I think. You can do so much better, Finn.”
“Can we talk about something else, please? Anything but my love life, or lack thereof. I’m begging you.”
“Sorry.” She cleared her throat in the awkward silence. “So, did you watch the game last night?”
Finn was grateful and they spent the next few minutes dissecting the baseball game from the night before. Before she left for work, she brought in the cold case files she’d promised.
“Maybe you can find something. It would sure be nice to make some headway with any of these.”
“Yeah, well, I can give them my total attention since I’ve got literally nothing better to do.”
“You won’t forgo your PT, though, will you?” She looked worried.
“Nah. I need to get out of this chair, so I won’t neglect physical therapy. I may be able to start using crutches soon.”
“That’s great, Finn! How soon before you can come back to work?”
He was saved from answering the question by the arrival of his older brother, Hugh, who let himself in and joined them in the kitchen. “Hey, Finn. I just stopped by to tell you I’m sending a crew over to build the ramp for your wheel chair. Oh, hey, Chrissy. Good to see you.”
Chrissy? He’d never heard anyone refer to his partner as Chrissy. He valiantly attempted to hide a smirk as he prepared to hear her rip Hugh a new one. He glanced across the table and was shocked to see her glancing down at the tabletop and—was she blushing? What. The. Hell?
“Hi, Hugh. Nice to see you too.” She fumbled with her coffee cup, knocking it over and spilling a bit. Her mumbled curse was perfectly audible.
Finn flipped his head back and forth between the two of them, confused. What am I missing? He wasn’t even aware they’d met. It must have been at the hospital while he was unconscious. “Hugh, man, I appreciate it. You’ll make sure it doesn’t wreck my porch, won’t you? I don’t plan to need it very long.”
“Sure, of course I will. You’re gonna be up and out of that chair before we know it. Hey, I didn’t know you have a cat.” CJ had been winding herself around Hugh’s ankles and he bent down to pet her.
“I have joint custody. She spends her mornings here.”
“Huh. Okay. Well, I need to get going. The crew should be here in about an hour. You up for watching the game tonight? I’ll bring the beer.”
“Cool. I’ll order the pizza.”
“Great. I’ll be here around seven. See you, Chrissy.” He left after giving the cat one last pat.
Finn switched his gaze to his partner, who busied herself cleaning up the spilled coffee, bagel wrappers, and paper bag, not meeting Finn’s eyes. “Chrissy?”
“Shut up.”
Chapter Three
Melanie
Dear Nice Lady,
I love my new collar! You are the nicest of nice ladies! Nice Man says he would have gotten off his butt and bought me one himself, but his stupid broken leg is still keeping him housebound. He would like the first vet visit to be on him, but wonders if you are able to take me since he can’t drive right now. I DO NOT like the sound of this and must insist that any plans to take me to the vet be run by me first! I’ve heard they stick things under your tail and poke you with sharp sticks. That is simply not acceptable. But I digress.
Nice Man wants me to assure you that asking about his family is not nosy in the least. They’re a crazy, big bunch and he loves to talk about them. He is third in line and has an older brother and sister. He also has a younger sister and two younger brothers. It’s a giant Irish/Italian circus when they all get together for Sunday dinner.
Sincerely,
CJ Catson
P.S. Nice Man hopes you have a great day and wonders if the two of you could meet sometime. To discuss the vet visit, of course. He’d also love to tell you more about his family.
Broken leg…housebound…can’t drive right now. Melanie lowered the note, horrified. “Oh, my God! That’s why I haven’t seen him in so long.” The natural caretaker side of her mentally warred with the chronic introvert as she sat on her sofa, the note clutched in her hand. It took only a few seconds for the caretaker to win the battle and she leaped up, startling the cat, as she strode purposefully to her kitchen. Don’t be such a chicken! The poor man can’t even leave the house. You can check on him, at the very least. Just a quick visit to make sure he’s all right and see if he needs anything. She cast her gaze around the room, thinking it would be nice to take him something homemade. She spied the banana bread she’d baked earlier and grabbed the foil-wrapped loaf before she could talk herself out of it. “Fluff, CJ, I’ll be back in a few minutes. I just need to check on him.” It was a mark of her distraction she didn’t stop to check her appearance before leaving the house. Concern for her injured neighbor carried her the short distance between their houses; any greater distance and she would have had more time to re-think her impulsive decision. As it was, she found herself walking up a handicap ramp and knocking on his red front door before she was quite ready.
“Just a sec,” a deep, muffled voice sounded from inside the house. “Who is it?” The voice now sounded much nearer, just on the other side of the door.
“It’s uh, me. Nice Lady. You know, the cat?” Melanie winced as she realized how ridiculous she sounded. She heard the deadbolt release and then the door opened. She looked down as she realized he was in a wheelchair. Any thoughts of pity flew completely out of her mind as she saw him up close for the first time. He was gorgeous—there was simply no other word for it. Black wavy hair, deep blue eyes, and a strong jaw covered with a few days’ worth of scruffy black whiskers all added up to the most handsome man Melanie had seen in a long time. Or ever.
“Hi!” His grin was cheerful, but she detected weariness, possibly pain, around the edges, reflected in the purplish smudges beneath his eyes. “I’m so glad you came over. I’m Finn, by the way.”
“Oh. I’m M—Mel.” Her throat completely closed up before she could even finish her name. God, what a spaz!
“It’s great to meet you, Mel. Come on in.” He wheeled backward and gestured for her to enter. His arms, visible below the sleeves of the band t-shirt he wore, were magnificent—golden brown, muscular, and corded, but not bulging like a body builder. Masculine arms had always fascinated Melanie and Finn’s were some of the best she’d ever seen.
She watched him struggle to close the front door and turn his wheelchair. She bit her lip and forced herself to let him do it himself.
“Have a sea
t.” He gestured toward the living room, where an inviting overstuffed sofa and loveseat combo sat in front of a large flat screen television.
She perched on the edge of the loveseat while he wheeled his chair to a spot that looked like an armchair might usually occupy the space. “I’m so sorry.”
“About what?”
“I didn’t know about…” She gestured vaguely to his right leg, the entire length encased in a white cast and propped straight on the wheelchair extension. “I would have…I don’t know.” She shrugged with a nervous laugh. “Oh!” She stood abruptly. “I brought banana bread.” She held the foil packet out toward him stupidly, then pulled it back when he simply raised his eyebrows. “Um, I’ll just put it in your kitchen, if that’s okay?” She found the kitchen through the dining room and set the bread on the counter, despising herself for her lack of anything resembling a social grace. She shrieked when he cleared his throat close behind her. How had she not heard him?
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Why don’t we have some of that right now? Do you mind getting the plates down, though? The cabinet above the dishwasher.” He pointed in the general direction.
“Of course.” She turned to retrieve the plates, happy to have a task. She located a serrated knife in the block on the counter and found a cutting board with his direction. In short order, she set a platter of banana bread, a tub of margarine, and a small plate each on the kitchen table. At his suggestion, she then busied herself making them each a cup of coffee in the Keurig machine, brushing away his apologies for not doing anything himself.
“This is delicious, Mel. Did you make it?” he asked around a bite.
She smiled and nodded as she sipped the coffee. “This morning. I like to bake.” She helped herself to a small piece, mostly to be sociable. “When did this happen?” She gestured to his leg again. “How?”
