by Nic Saint
“They’re having croque-monsieur in the morning,” said Gran.
“Not croque-monsieur. Croquet. It’s a sport.”
“Oh, I get it,” said Gran, giving me a wink for some reason. “Is that what you young people call it these days? Good to know. I like some croquet myself from time to time. Which reminds me, I should call Dick. He asked me out on a date last week and I haven’t gotten back to him. Do you know Dick Bernstein? From the senior center? He’s sweet on me. Him and Rock Horowitz both.”
“Look, why don’t we discuss all this when I get back,” said Odelia, taking over the phone again.
“Sure thing, honey,” said Gran. “Rock and Dick can wait.”
“So about this snippy thing,” said Dooley, jostling to get closer to the phone, “it can be reversed, right? In that case I’ll have a reversal, too.”
“We’ll all have reversals,” I said. “Reversals for everyone, please, Odelia.”
“Except for me,” said Brutus, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his chest. “No reversals needed for The Brutus.”
“Gran,” Chase said. “Hi. Chase again. Why are we still talking?”
With one eye on Brutus, Gran said, “Quick question. Do you remember if Brutus was neutered as a kitten?”
“Of course he was,” Chase said. “First thing my mom did when she got him. Neutered, dewormed, vaccinated and chipped. And now can we finally get back to sleep?”
Brutus’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”
“Don’t worry—the whole thing is totally reversible,” I said.
“You neutered me?!” Brutus yelled into the phone. “Are you crazy?”
“I didn’t neuter you, Brutus,” said Odelia. “That was Chase’s mom.”
“Wait, are you talking to Brutus now?” asked Chase. “God, I must be dreaming. This is all a dream, right? Am I dreaming?”
“You tell Chase to tell his mom there’s such a thing as my body—my choice!” Brutus yelled. “Tell him!”
“It’ll all work out fine,” said Odelia.
“My body—my choice!” Brutus cried.
“Hey, maybe this is a good thing,” said Dooley. “You wanted to be turned from a male into a female, right? Well, you’re halfway there, Brutus. They neutered you, so now it’s only one small step to becoming a real female!”
Brutus looked like he was about to murder Dooley, and I had the distinct impression his doubts about his inner male or female had suddenly taken a backseat—and no shrinks had been harmed in the process!
“I think it’s a rotten thing to do, Odelia,” Brutus growled into the phone. “And I’m disappointed, you hear me? Disappointed!”
“But, Brutus,” said Dooley. “This is a good thing!”
“Yes, Brutus,” Odelia said. “Look on the bright—”
“Very disappointed!” he screamed, and hit the Disconnect button.
“Finally,” Gran muttered, and promptly dozed off, phone still in her hand.
“My body—my choice,” Brutus repeated, as if it were his new mantra.
“So we’re all in the same boat,” said Harriet. “All of us have been badly betrayed by our masters.” Her face took on a mutinous expression. “I suggest we teach them a lesson. I suggest we elope. Right now!”
“Elope!” said Dooley. “But…”
“They had a duty of care, Dooley—and they blew it! They removed a vital part of our anatomy without our permission. There are laws against that kind of thing. In fact I’m pretty sure Odelia and the others can be arrested for this.”
“Arrested?” asked Dooley, taken aback.
She ticked the items off on her claws. “Cat mutilation. Violation of our immutable rights under the Universal Declaration of Feline Rights. Gross negligence… Do I really have to go on?”
“I doubt whether Uncle Alec will arrest his niece, his sister and his mother for cat mutilation,” I said.
“So we elope!” said Harriet. “We teach them a lesson they won’t forget!”
“And what lesson would that be?”
“That they should think twice before sending us to Vena the Butcher!”
“I doubt Odelia will get the message,” I said. “She’s so busy playing croque-monsieur with Chase that she won’t even know we’re gone.”
“But the others will. Marge, Gran…”
We looked at Gran, who was sleeping with her mouth open, snoring softly.
“I don’t think Gran is going to miss us terribly,” said Dooley softly.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I said. “I agree they should never have done this to us, but if we elope now we’ll only be punishing ourselves. Just think—no soft couch to sleep on, no food, fresh water, litter box…”
Harriet thought for a moment, then that mutinous look was back. “Fine. If you won’t do it, I will. As of this moment, I’m eloping, and if you have even an inch of self-respect left in your snipped bodies, you’ll follow my lead.”
And then she set off. Brutus, Dooley and I shared a look. “I’m going with her,” said Brutus. “I mean, that’s my woman. I have to stand by her. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until—”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Brutus,” I said. “You’re not married, man.”
“See you, guys,” he said. And off he went, standing by his woman.
We stared after them, and soon we heard the pet flap flap.
I turned to Dooley. “So how about it, buddy? Are we eloping or not?”
He darted a glance at his favorite spot at the foot of Gran’s bed. It was nice and soft and extremely inviting. Finally he said, “Ok, fine. Let’s elope. But not for too long, all right? I kinda like our humans—even if they did remove a part of our anatomy that they probably shouldn’t have without our permission.”
“Your objections are duly noted,” I said, and then we eloped—reluctantly.
Chapter 11
The next morning, bright and early, Odelia awoke to music streaming from hidden speakers. At first she thought she was in her own bed at home, and her first instinct was to feel for the trusty shape of Max sleeping at her feet. Max would usually, and sometimes even before she was fully awake, crawl up to her armpit, bury his nose under her arm, and purr up a storm. He’d been doing this ever since he was a kitten and still performed this early morning ritual without fault. Sometimes he exchanged her armpit for her elbow or her neck but he always had to have this morning cuddle. He would knead the blanket, or sometimes Chase’s arm if it was closer, not bothering to retract his claws, which would sometimes elicit a few choice curse words from Chase.
And then, when he had enough, he would suddenly get up and scoot off as fast as he could. It was a weird but adorable little ritual and she missed it now.
Next to her, Chase stirred, so she put his head under her armpit. He got the idea, and was soon purring himself. They both laughed, and listened to the music for a moment.
“Is that... Barbra Streisand?” asked Chase, his voice muffled.
‘Memory, all alone in the moonlight,’ Barbra wailed from the speakers.
“I think it is,” said Odelia, stretching luxuriously, then throwing back the comforter and swinging her feet to the floor. She bunched up her toes and kneaded the high-pile carpet for a moment. “Nice,” she murmured.
“You don’t say,” said Chase, who was doing the same thing on his side of the bed. “So what was all that about your grandmother wanting to know if Brutus was neutered?” he asked. “Did that really happen or was I dreaming?”
“Oh, you know Gran. She’s a little eccentric sometimes.”
“More like completely stark-raving mad,” he grunted.
Odelia frankly was a little worried. It had never occurred to her to let her cats know they’d been spayed or neutered or whatever it was called. And now they knew—she wondered how. Probably some other cats had told them.
“Good morning all you lovelies!” Emerald’s voice suddenly boomed through the room. “Welcome t
o your first full day of fun and friendship at Casa Emerald! A delicious breakfast buffet is served in the morning room so I’ll see you all there. Oh, and I have a little surprise for you. No, I’m not telling you what it is. You’ll have to come down and see for yourself. So rise and shine, you adorable sleepyheads, and I’ll see you in a few ticks!”
“She’s like the happy, peppy hostess from hell,” Chase groaned as he rubbed his face.
After the commotion with Alina freaking out about her husband having an affair with Kimberlee last night, and then the phone call about her cats freaking out about having been neutered in the middle of the night, Odelia and Chase hadn’t exactly enjoyed a good night’s sleep. Still Odelia felt energized. She had a hard time believing she was sleeping under Emerald Rhone’s roof, sharing a weekend with the screen goddess and her friends!
They quickly showered, got dressed, and proceeded downstairs in search of the promised breakfast buffet and, of course, Emerald’s ‘little surprise.’
“I’ll bet it’s jewelry,” said Odelia as they walked down the stairs. “An expensive watch for the men and earrings for the women. Or maybe bracelets for the women and cufflinks or blazer buttons for the men! Or both!”
“Whatever it is, I hope Emerald makes a strong coffee,” grunted Chase. “I feel like I’m still half asleep and won’t be fully awake until I’ve had my first hit of caffeine.”
Just like the night before, they were greeted at the bottom of the stairs by the same liveried servant. This time he ushered them into the morning room. Located near the back of the house, its French windows, which were all open, offered a stunning view of the pool area and the smooth lawns behind it.
“Imagine having your own private swimming pool,” said Odelia as she walked over to the window and marveled at that delicious expanse of cooling blue. “I would definitely go for a swim every morning, without fail.”
“Yeah, me, too,” said Chase, placing an arm across her shoulders. “I guess our teeny tiny backyard is too small for a pool, though, right?”
“We could put in a birdbath.”
He laughed. “It’s not exactly the same thing.”
“Almost but not exactly,” she agreed.
Several of the guests sauntered in, with others already tucking into their breakfast. Alina was eating by herself, Reinhart on the other side of the room, and Verna looked much the worse for wear, with bags under her eyes, as she munched on a bagel and sipped from a smoothie, Thaw Roman by her side. Kimberlee and Zoltan walked in, engaged in conversation, and Abbey and Seger were checking out the breakfast buffet. The only ones missing were Emerald and Pete. Then again, a diva always arrives fashionably late and likes to make a grand entrance. Maybe she was preparing her surprise!
Odelia joined Abbey at the buffet.
“Oh, hey,” said Abbey jovially. “Sleep well?”
“As well as can be expected,” said Odelia truthfully.
“Yeah, what a show last night, huh?” She darted a quick glance at Alina, who was looking like the original ice queen, her back ramrod straight and her green eyes shooting sheets of flame in the direction of her errant husband.
“Do you really think Reinhart was sneaking off for some midnight nookie with Kimberlee?” asked Odelia, keeping her voice down.
Abbey snorted. “Midnight nookie. I like that. It’s possible. Kimberlee did have a reputation on set for being a little... morally flawed, shall we say.”
“You mean she had an affair with a member of the crew?”
“Several members, allegedly. The only one I’m sure about is our fearless director.”
“She had an affair with the director?”
“I know, right. Talk about a cliché.”
“So what did her boyfriend say?”
“I don’t think he knows. You know what they say: what happens on set, stays on set.”
Odelia wondered if she should point out that Abbey was breaking this very rule right now but thought better of it.
“We used to be besties, you know,” said Abbey, as she transferred a bagel and a slice of Brie on to her plate. “The original BFFs.”
“You and Kimberlee?”
Abbey nodded. “Thick as thieves all through the filming of the first season.”
“So what happened?”
“She dumped me.”
“Dumped you—as in…”
“As in one day out of the blue she decided she liked Verna better than me, so from one day to the next she started ghosting me and hanging out with Verna. No idea why. I guess she figured Verna was more fun to be around than little old me. They are the same age, of course, while I’m just an old hag.”
“You’re not an old hag,” said Odelia, then remembered that Abbey was in her forties now. It’s hard to imagine that the heroes of your youth age, too. She’d seen Abbey Moret play the peppy ditzy blonde in so many movies it was hard to imagine she was a forty-year-old mom now, not a teenager.
“But you know, who cares?” said Abbey, though it was obvious she cared a great deal. “It’s not as if I’ll be seeing the jezebel for much longer. After this weekend is over, it’s sayonara, stupid cow, and good riddance.” And with these words, she returned to her table with her tray.
“What was that all about?” asked Chase.
“Apparently Alina isn’t the only one who hates Kimberlee. Abbey does, too.”
“My God,” said Chase. “It’s like high school all over again, isn’t it?”
“Just human nature, I guess.”
“Human nature, my foot. I work with the same people year-round and I never get into screaming matches or blow my top. You know what I think?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“Big egos clashing. Put one movie star in a movie with a bunch of nobodies, and everyone gets along great. Put five movie stars together and fireworks are guaranteed.”
“I don’t know about that. Sometimes the most successful people have the smallest egos.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I do, actually. Just look at Emerald. She’s so gracious and so humble. Not the diva I thought she would be at all.”
Chase eyed her curiously. “Are you seriously calling Emerald Rhone a humble person?”
“Down-to-earth, unassuming, kind—in a word, humble.”
They’d taken a seat and devoted themselves to the items on their plates. “I disagree,” he said. “She’s the classic diva, and all these other divas probably hate her guts and she loves it.”
Like last night, the food once again was to die for: there were so many different choices on display that Odelia was sorry she only had one stomach. She took a sip from her freshly squeezed orange juice and took a bite from her buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup and some of that sautéed spinach.
Chase, meanwhile, attacked his hash brown potatoes, blueberry pancakes, streaky crisp pork bacon and roast honey glazed ham with French toast while sipping from his piping hot and spoon-standing-up strong black coffee.
“I think Emerald has managed to stay with both feet firmly planted in reality—a regular person like the rest of us mere mortals, and I’ve always admired that about her,” said Odelia.
Just then, the doors to the breakfast room swung open and Emerald burst in. She was looking resplendent in an Adidas tracksuit, and had a brilliant smile plastered across her face. “Hello, my beloved friends!” she cried. “I trust you’ve all had a wonderful night. And I trust all differences have been put firmly aside.” She cast a meaningful look at Alina and Reinhart, neither of whom reacted. “I’m not going to keep you in suspense. It’s time for your gift!”
“Whoopsie,” said Odelia, putting her hands together and joining in the applause.
Chase was already removing his watch to make a place for the new and snazzier one he was sure to receive.
Emerald clapped her hands and a cart was rolled in by two servers, overseen by Emerald’s husband Pete. On the cart cans of Coke had been piled in a nice py
ramid.
“Ta-dah!” Emerald sang on a high note, an excited trill in her voice.
Everyone stared at the cans of Coke.
Chase started putting his watch back on.
Emerald picked up the top can and showed it to her stunned guests. “Coke Emerald! The Coca-Cola Company has created a new Coke especially for me! It tastes a little sweeter than classic Coke, with a minty aftertaste, not unlike myself,” she said with a wink at her husband, who looked appropriately embarrassed. “Go on, try it,” she said, and started handing out the cans. “There’s plenty for everyone, so take as many as you want. They won’t be in stores until the fall so this is a real treat for you and your loved ones.”
Chase took a can from the servers who’d started distributing the cans among the guests, who all accepted the unique gift with the requisite murmurs of appreciation, while still looking slightly stunned and baffled.
Chase turned the can over in his hand, then opened it with a pop and took a swig. “Tastes like Coke,” he said. “Like she said—a little sweeter.”
Underneath the Coke logo the name Emerald had been added, and a green-and-gold stripe added to the famous swoosh. Odelia caught Chase’s eye and they both had to suppress a snort of laughter. So no watches, bracelets or earrings but cans of Coke. Ah, well, she thought. At least she had something to write home about. Literally.
Chapter 12
“Do you think they’re missing us already?” asked Dooley.
We’d spent the night in the park, not far from cat choir’s rehearsal spot. Of course all of cat choir’s members had gone home by now, to their respective couches and beds and extra-soft and fluffy pillows, and to their food bowls and litter boxes. The only fools still in the park were the four of us, the elopers.
“I hope so,” I said. “I miss my bowl of food.”
Gran had developed a habit of putting a little extra snack in our bowls in the morning. Every day was a surprise. One day it could be a slice of sausage or a piece of beef, the next it would be cheese or a cat treat. Gran loved to spoil us. And now that Odelia was gone I knew she’d pull out all the stops and spoil us absolutely rotten. To that purpose she had bought all of the stuff Odelia never got us, because she felt it wasn’t healthy or too expensive: all the special gourmet stuff only pampered cats eat. Like us. Except—we’d eloped.
