by Melinda Metz
“She’s not a shrew,” Zachary protested. And David didn’t remind him that it was Zachary who had called Addison a shrew in the first place. “In her diary—”
“Which you didn’t read,” David said. Diogee stopped to I-was-here a clump of hydrangeas.
“I just flipped through it. Anyway, on some pages she sounded really pissed off, and I could see why with some of the crap her boyfriend pulled. But on some pages she sounded kind of funny. And there were a couple poems that were really insightful.”
The crush was more serious than David had thought. “It seemed like she was an Adventure Time fan, too. She recognized that Mushroom War shirt right off. Did you guys end up talking about the show?”
“Yeah, actually,” Zachary said. “She has this theory that the mushroom bomb created mutations, and the slime monster you see around Simon and Marcy are actually human mutations. Which I’m not sure I agree with, but it makes sense.”
“I still need to get caught up,” David told him.
“You have to.” Usually Zachary would have gone on for the rest of the walk about all the reasons David needed to read every issue, but instead he said, “We talked about Ms. Marvel, too. I think she was a little surprised I read it. There are all these Reddit posts from guys who think diversity is being shoved down their throats, and that Ms. Marvel just panders to a few small groups. Like women! Which is not a small group. We both think Kamala is kind of a Peter Parker–type character, and that her characterization is really complex.”
David jumped in. He knew Zachary could go on about comics forever, and usually he was happy to hear it. He read some of the same rants on different comic sites. But today he was too curious about what was happening between Zachary and Addison. It sounded like his boy had scored some points by defending Ms. Marvel. “Have you seen her at school since then?” he asked.
Zachary’s smile faltered. “In English. But we hardly have any time to get from one class to another, so there’s no time to talk to anyone. And at lunch . . . You know how it is, everyone sits with the same people they always sit with. Addison’s always with her boyfriend.”
“It sounded like she was kicking him to the curb that day she threw her phone out the window,” David commented.
“Yeah, well . . .” Zachary shrugged. “I thought she did. And her diary made it sound like she wanted to.” David didn’t tease him about reading the diary this time. “But today she spent half of lunch sitting on his lap feeding him French fries, so I guess if they ever did break up, they’re back together now.”
“Things change. You gotta remember MJ had a boyfriend when Peter Parker first met her,” David reminded him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he yelped, and Diogee stopped sniffing and looked around to see what was the matter. “I don’t—It doesn’t matter to me if she has a boyfriend or not. Except that she made him sound like such a jerk, and I don’t see why she’d want to be with someone who doesn’t treat her better.”
“Nobody should be with somebody who treats them badly,” David agreed.
“Yeah. That’s why it bugged me to see her all over him at school,” Zachary said.
“Right,” David said. He wondered if Zachary had actually managed to convince himself that was true.
* * *
Mac batted Mousie around, but even though Mousie smelled as wonderful as usual, Mac just didn’t feel the usual delirium. It was the humans’ fault. They were just all so stupid. At first he’d blamed it on their noses, which were so bad they shouldn’t be called noses at all. They should be called something like face blobs.
But now he knew he couldn’t only blame their horrible sense of smell. He’d gotten Jamie and the human who had the drooler as a packmate together. They’d sat right outside the house, and Mac had been able to smell the loneliness leaving both of them. He’d been able to smell the pull between them. He’d been sure he’d completed his mission.
Then—nothing! They hadn’t been together since then. Why? It was incomprehensible. Something makes you feel good, you want more of it. Like tuna. Tuna made Mac feel good, so he wanted more. He wanted tuna anytime tuna was available. Or like Mousie. Mousie made Mac feel good—well, almost always it did. He would play with Mousie every minute of the day, except that sometimes Jamie hid Mousie in a box with a latch, a latch Mac was still working on learning to open.
The two young ones, the ones who weren’t quite as helpless as kittens, but not like grown cats, either, were just as bad. The same thing had happened with them. Mac had managed to get them near each other. He knew that. He could smell it on them both. And he could smell that they’d made each other happier. But did that make them get near each other again? No. Because they were humans and they barely knew how to keep themselves alive without help.
At least the littlest girl and the nurturer didn’t need more pushing from Mac. Somehow one or both of them managed to realize that they were better together.
Mac gave a huff of aggravation. He’d have go out tonight and work on fixing things. He wouldn’t be able to enjoy Mousie time until he did.
He trotted into Jamie’s room, where she was peacefully asleep, clearly unaware of what a mess she’d made of things. He picked something up from the floor, something with an odor that should be able to penetrate a face blob. Then he returned to the living room, stepped into the fireplace, and began to slowly work his way up the chimney. The ones who weren’t full-grown should be grateful he felt sorry for them. And Jamie should be grateful she was Mac’s person. If he had to go out every night for the rest of her life, he’d make her realize what she needed to be happy.
He went directly to the man’s place. Mac’s usual window was closed. It didn’t matter. He’d use the bonehead’s door. He waited a moment, until he was sure the dog wasn’t right on the other side, then he slipped through.
No drooler in sight. Good. Mac wasn’t in the mood to play. Not tonight. He dashed up the stairs and into the room where the man slept. The dog was sleeping in there, too, curled up, nose to tail, on an enormous fluffy pillow. Mac could use a pillow like that. He’d work on a way to get it home later. Tonight was for work.
He leapt onto the bed. He was going to make sure the man didn’t miss the gift Mac had for him. He crept forward and laid it on the man’s chest. Then—mayhem.
The man jerked upright. The bonehead started to bray.
Mac needed to get out of there. He scrambled off the bed and darted into the bathroom. He remembered a second too late that the window was closed. Didn’t matter. Mac was a master at opening things. He bounded to the windowsill and began pawing at the latch.
Too slow. The man was on him. He caught Mac up in his arms. Mac struggled, but the man held tight, even when Mac gave him a warning scratch.
“Knock it off,” the man said. “I caught you fair and square, MacGyver.”
CHAPTER 12
Jamie woke to the sound of someone knocking. She checked her alarm clock. A little after one. It felt as if she’d been asleep for hours, but she’d actually just gone to bed about a half an hour ago. Still, it was waaay too late for someone to be knocking.
But whoever was out there didn’t think so. The knocking kept coming, even louder now. Jamie jerked the jeans she’d worn to the puppet show on under the T-shirt she was using as a nightgown. She started for the door, then turned around and grabbed her cell from the nightstand. She punched in 91—. If there was some crazed, as opposed to sane, maniac out there, all she’d have to do was punch another 1 and wait for the police to show up.
“Who is it?” Jamie yelled, trying to sound like she was seven feet tall. Her cute door didn’t have a peephole.
“It’s David,” he called back. “Sorry to wake you up. I have your cat.”
“Mac?” He hadn’t been on her head, his usual spot in the middle of the night. She opened the door and saw David, who looked disheveled; Mac, who looked furious; and Diogee, who looked ecstatic.
She reached out her arms for her
cat, and David took a half step back.
“You might want me just to put him down inside,” he said. “He’s . . . agitated.”
“Come on in.” She opened the door wide. David stepped inside, waiting until Jamie had the door shut to release Mac, who streaked into Jamie’s room. “I can’t believe he got out. I didn’t try to fix the screen with duct tape or anything. I bought a spline. I bought a spline roller. I’d never heard of either of them before, but I figured out how to use them.” She hurried to the porch and checked the spot where the rip had been. “See. It’s still good,” she said, running her fingers over it.
She looked up, and that’s when she saw the long red scratch on David’s forearm. “He scratched you!”
“Don’t worry about it,” David told her.
Diogee whined and strained at the leash. Clearly he wanted some love. Jamie crouched down in front of him and began petting him. “I’m sorry I ignored you. Yes, I am. Yes, I am.” Diogee flopped onto his back, and Jamie obediently began scratching his belly. “I’m going to get you something for that scratch. You don’t want it to get infected,” she told David, and stood up. Diogee pawed at her leg, not ready for her to stop.
“Diogee, knock it off,” David said.
“Do you want to let him off the leash?” Jamie asked.
“It’s okay?”
“Sure. There’s nothing he can hurt.”
After David unclipped the leash, Jamie led the way to the bathroom. “Wash the cut while I get the Neosporin.”
“It’s not—” David began to protest.
“Just do it,” Jamie said. And he did. She leaned around him and started rooting through the medicine cabinet. She was standing so close that she was breathing in his scent. He smelled good, like soap and man and maybe a little vanilla. “So, um, where did you find Mac?” she asked, trying to distract herself. “I still have to figure out how he escaped.”
“He was in my bedroom,” Mac answered.
“Oh my gosh. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s going to get me kicked out of Storybook Court.” Jamie found the Neosporin and shut the cabinet door, then stepped away from David.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be reporting you to Hud.” David turned off the water, and Jamie reached for a towel, her chest brushing against his warm, solid back. That’s when she realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. Because she’d just pulled her jeans on under the Pulp Minion tee she used as a nightgown. The bathroom was too damn small. She gave him the towel and sat down on the edge of the tub.
“Did he manage to grab anything of yours?” she asked.
“Uh, no. But he brought me something I’m assuming it’s yours.” David reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pair of hot pink bikini panties covered with little green aliens.
“Yeah, mine.” Jamie jumped up, grabbed them, and stuck them in the pocket of her jeans. She felt her cheeks get hot and knew she had to be blushing. She hated blushing. She twisted off the top of the little Neosporin tube and squirted some of the gel onto David’s arm, then wondered why she hadn’t just given the tube to him, because now it sort of seemed like she should rub it in. But was that weird? Before she could decide, David did it himself.
“Want a Band-Aid?” Jamie asked.
“I’m good,” David told her. He headed out of the bathroom, but stopped when he got to the living room. Jamie stepped up beside him and stifled a laugh. Diogee was lying on her sofa. So was Mac. They were almost nose to nose, eyes locked, both motionless.
“I can’t believe Diogee isn’t trying to dig his way out your front door,” David said softly. “He’s usually a big wimp.”
“I can’t believe Mac hasn’t brought out the claws,” Jamie admitted. “Clearly they’re working on some kind of negotiation. Let’s leave them to it.”
David didn’t move. “My grandma used to read me this poem about two stuffed animals who had a fight. When it was over, all that was left was scraps.”
“The gingham dog and the calico cat! It was in this book my mom found at a garage sale,” Jamie answered. “I think if they were going to tear each other to shreds, they’d have started already. Come on.” When they reached the kitchen, she opened the fridge. “What can I get you? I’m having a beer.”
“Sounds good.”
Jamie handed him a Corona and they both sat down at the table. She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. It was too late now. He’d seen whatever he’d seen. Shouldn’t be much. The T-shirt wasn’t especially thin. “You must have to be at work in a few hours. You don’t have to stay. You can take the beer for the road, since you’re walking and not driving.”
“You’re throwing me out? When I’m recovering from cat scratch fever?” David asked. He smiled. “I had an early night. I got some sleep already.”
“Stay as long as you want,” Jamie said. She took a swig of her beer. “Sorry again about Mac sneaking into your house. I was sure I’d made my place escape-proof. It makes more sense that he’s found another way out than that someone else is also stealing and redistributing things around the Court.”
“His thieving might have actually done my neighbor Zachary a favor. He’s goes to high school with Addison and has a big crush on her. You know her, right? Riley’s big sister?”
“I’ve met her,” Jamie said. “Has the kid who has the crush, in fact, met her?”
David laughed. “Yeah, they’ve known each other practically since birth. And he’s aware of her temper. But hormones are strong in that one. And who knows, maybe if she had a boyfriend who wasn’t a jerk, she wouldn’t be so furious all the time. At least that seems to be Zachary’s theory.”
Jamie raised her eyebrows. “It’s possible. Does Zachary know her boyfriend?”
“He’s seen Addison and him together at school, and he read a little of her diary,” David said.
“Her diary? Wait, he must be the one who found the diary on his doorstep. I was there when Ruby sneaked it back into her house.”
“Yeah, I asked her to do that. Zachary thought if he gave it back to her himself, she’d be upset because she’d think he read it. Which he did,” David answered.
“Is that what you meant about Mac doing him a favor? You think Mac took the diary?” Jamie groaned. “He must have taken it. And Riley’s pony. I don’t even want to think about how many houses he’s snuck into.”
“I wasn’t thinking about the diary. I was thinking about the Adventure Time shirt of Zachary’s that went missing. Remember, Addison brought it to the fountain when we were there?” David said. “I told her it was Zachary’s and she returned it to him. They got into a big conversation about it and other graphic novels. I think it’s the first time they’ve really spoken in years. Zachary definitely won’t be registering a complaint against Mac.”
“What do you think I should do? Do you think I need to go door to door and confess I’m the owner of a cat burglar and apologize?”
“I think you should just find Mac’s new exit and seal it up,” David said. “Then the whole thing will just blow over. Nobody but Hud seems that worried about it. I can help you go over the place to figure out how he’s getting out if you want.”
“That would be great. I could use another set of eyes.”
“I’ll come by tomorrow after work, around three thirty, if that’s good for you.” David finished his beer. “Let’s go check for scraps. I can’t believe you knew that poem.”
“It doesn’t look like either of them have moved a muscle,” Jamie said when they returned to the living room. “Props to Diogee. I’ve never won a staring contest with Mac, but he’s hanging in there. You should bring him tomorrow.”
“Great. See you then.” David snapped the leash back on the dog. He had to half-haul Diogee to the front door. He kept trying to look back at Mac.
“Thanks for bringing Mac home,” Jamie said. “I hope you get a little sleep before work.”
“I will. Nice T-shirt,” he said as she was swinging the
door closed.
She hoped he was really talking about the shirt, and not her braless state. Vinnie and Jules as Minions were pretty funny. That had to be all he meant.
Jamie flopped down on the couch next to Mac. “You are a lot of trouble,” she told him. “But I love you.” She rubbed her cheek against the top of his head, and he started to purr.
“Let’s go back to bed. Well, back for me, not you.” She picked him up and carried him to the bedroom. “Please be good and stay put, or I’m going to start making you sleep with your leash on. I’ll tie it to myself if I have to.”
Mac curled up in the exact center of the bed. Jamie sighed, pulled off her jeans, and arranged herself around him, but she felt wide awake. “You had a whole houseful of things to choose from, and you had to go with panties. Thanks a lot, MacGyver.”
Well, it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen David’s underwear. His had turned out to be the boxer briefs. She bet he looked good in them.
She gave a moan and rolled over onto her side, pulling her pillow over her head. She didn’t want to be thinking about how David looked in his briefs. She wanted—and needed—to be thinking about how to keep Mac where he belonged. That and what her next step in figuring out what her dream should be.
* * *
“I hope when I said ‘nice shirt’, she knew I meant nice shirt,” David told Diogee as they walked home. He’d realized right after the words came out of his mouth that they could have seemed like some kind of skeevy innuendo about her going braless. Which had been impossible not to notice. At least for him.
“And you. I’m proud of you for standing up to that cat—and not getting mauled,” David continued. Sometimes he thought he talked to the dog too much. But if you had a dog, you talked to it. He bet Jamie talked to MacGyver.
When he and the dog reached home, David went straight back to bed. He’d need to get up in a few hours. He heard Diogee flop down on his gigantic pillow with a sigh of contentment. A few moments later, the dog was snoring, loudly.