by Joseph Bonis
Sing stepped forward, and the cat hissed. He stepped back and the cat was still again.
“Right,” Sing said. “I'm not going anywhere near that door carrying this guy.”
Tracy sighed softly. “All right, see if he'll go in the bathroom. We can close the door. At least if he goes to the bathroom or pukes or something, it won't be on the carpet and it'll be easy to clean up.”
The nameless cat seemed perfectly happy to be in the bathroom, quickly curling up on the soft shag of the bathroom mat. “Right, he looks comfy,” said Sing. “Let's run, they're probably wondering where we are.”
Sing and Tracy hurried downstairs and outside, where they hopped up and down in the strong wind that had shifted directions while Tracy had been inside. It had dropped several degrees, and her breezy skirts were far too cold for the night, but she was hardly going to go change them now. A pair of oncoming headlights slowed and pulled to the curb, and the two squeezed into the back of Ted's car along with Jill and Alex. Seat belts, of course, were out of the question, with so many packed into the back. “Hey, what took you?” asked Stephen from the passenger seat, his large girth always earning him shotgun.
“Cat problems,” Sing brightly chimed in. “Had to get the little guy settled first.”
“Oooo! Tracy got a cat?” chirped Jill. “What's he look like, what's his name?”
Tracy shook her head. “He doesn't have a name, and I'm not keeping him! He just broke into my apartment and demanded food!”
“He's called Nameless.” Sing ignored Tracy, grinning impishly. “And he's a slim gray cat with very noble posture.” Tracy let out an exasperated sigh.
Tracy closed her eyes and sat back as people talked, and teased each other, and complained about their days. She inhaled deeply, luxuriating in knowing their smells.
She couldn't smell Ted past the sharp scent of cleaning supplies, but she could smell Stephen – musky even while damp from a recent shower. Sing always had a hint of a distinctive cologne – spicy and a little flowery. Alex and Jill, as always, smelled of their beloved cats. Tracy didn't know why she loved smelling people and things, but it just made them feel more real to her.
It was a short drive, but would have been a long walk through the cold night. The active conversation and overloaded car combined with the cold night made the windows fog up extremely fast, the front defroster barely able to keep up. Tracy said little as she listened to the others joking, their closeness a nigh-tangible sensation of support that let her be more than she was alone.
The wind whipped chill up her legs as she stepped out of the car, reminding her again that the long skirt was a mite too thin for the weather. Tracy shivered and hugged herself tightly, following along with everyone else. Part of her wanted to hurry ahead to escape into the warm restaurant, but she knew there weren't many days left in the year where she would be able to see herself exhale, and even in the brisk cold she relished in the childlike delight of feeling like some fantasy creature. She grinned impishly to herself as she pursed her lips and playfully blew out a stream of mist.
Tracy's friends entered the restaurant with an explosion of noise and laughter and extravagant gestures and exuberance. The wash of warm air and light stole her back to reality, and she hugged herself as the warmth was slow in relieving the deep-set chill. Anne, the waitress, gathered up six menus. “Hello again, guys! Extended Booth, non-smoking, three waters, two diet colas, and a milk?”
Tracy nodded happily, grinning at the familiar waitress. “You have such a good memory!” It was a very welcoming feeling to be a regular. Everyone piled into the booth, with Tracy ending up on the outside next to Sing, and the waitress was already there with their drinks. Tracy didn't need to look at the menu, but instead drank deep of the cold water, not having realized how dry her throat had been until she had taken a sip, emptying most of the glass in one long draw.
The discussion muted a bit as everyone else mused over the menu, despite having seen it a hundred times before. It didn't take them long to figure out what they wanted. Jill, Alex, and Ted ordered dinners while Stephen and Sing ordered breakfasts. When it came to Tracy, she ordered just a fruit crepe with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, covered in strawberries and the strawberry syrup - her favorite dessert here.
After the waitress had left, Sing said to Tracy, “You know, if you can't afford to eat out, I'm perfectly all right springing for your meal. You don't have to eat before we go out.” A quiet murmur of agreement came from around the table as the rest of her friends said likewise.
“I'm fine. I don't want to be one of those girls who has people buy her everything. It's not like I can't afford it - I just devote my money elsewhere,” Tracy reassured them. And as usual, she didn't opt to point out that there were few dishes she actually liked at most restaurants – she preferred her own cooking. She was here for the company.
Sing gave a little grin and had something new to say. “Tell you what - you let me buy you dinner every so often, and this summer, you can give me a ride in your truck.”
Tracy blinked in surprise. “I didn't know you were interested in off-roading!” she exclaimed.
He gave a small shrug and a tiny, secretive grin. “I've never been off-roading,” he admitted, “but you enjoy it so much that it must be worth a try.”
Tracy gave a playful, exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she finally gave in. “Next time we eat, you can buy my dinner.”
“Point!” Sing crowed lightly. Tracy blinked and then slapped her forehead. “That doesn't count!”
“It totally counts,” persisted Sing, grinning, flipping his hair from his face with a flick. “You know it.”
Tracy sighed and pulled a notebook out of her purse, flipping it open to a much-marked page to put a hash under Sing's name. “That is so not fair,” she murmured, grinning.
“So it's a date!” Jill chirped cheerfully. “About time!”
Tracy and Sing both jumped. “What?” asked Tracy. “No, it's not a date!”
Jill gave a sly grin. “He's buying you dinner and you've planned a time to go out and do an activity together, just the two of you. What do you call it?”
Sing sighed and rolled his eyes almost the same way Tracy had earlier. “You just don't give up, do you?” he said with a good-natured groan.
“But you two are so perfect for each other!” chirped Jill. “And neither of you have someone!”
There was something in Jill's voice and the way she glanced at Sing. Tracy followed that glance with a suspicious look at the lanky guy next to her. “What, you guys have talked about this before?”
She was suddenly aware of the rest of the table grinning and watching with amusement. Sing gave a small wave of his hand, as if brushing the subject away. “Jill's been trying to push me towards asking you out for months now,” he said dismissively.
Tracy looked at Jill for confirmation.
“Well,” Jill said quickly, a little defensively, “He's always the one who goes up and gets you instead of just calling your phone, and you always stick together when we're sitting down, and both of you are always so dressed-up while we're just in jeans and t-shirts, and … and … and lots of stuff!”
“We're friends!” protested Sing, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
“And you're a guy and a girl and you're both cute and why can't you be friends and more?” persisted Jill. “Why don't you ask her out?”
Tracy turned in her seat to look at Sing, a playful little smirk on her face. “Yeah,” she said slowly, thoughtfully, “why don't you ask me out?”
Sing opened his mouth to answer and just sat there, a faint strangled noise coming from his throat, a stunned and briefly confused look on his face.
“Point,” chirped Tracy quietly, and put a hash mark onto her side of the notebook page.
Sing groaned and shook his head. “That's just underhanded.”
Alex demurred lightly, “I don't know, sweetie,” he said to Jill. “I don't know
if anyone who keeps points on each other would make a good couple.”
Jill gave a little mischievous grin to Tracy, then her face shifted to give Alex a sympathetic look. “Dear, all couples keep points on each other. We just don't usually do it so obviously.”
Alex wanted to argue, but Jill leaned over and whispered something in his ear. His cheeks turned an adorable shade of red and he let out an unsettled 'harrumph' and retreated into his seat, not saying anything more.
Some good-natured ribbing followed. Once he got over his initial fluster, Sing was giving back as good as he gave, while Tracy just sat back and watched contentedly. The talk muted a bit as the food arrived, every face turning expectantly towards the waitress as she came towards them with a platter full of plates.
Tracy inhaled deeply as the plates went past her, enjoying the delicious mix of scents, the meats and the cheeses and the breads, all mixing together into a gestalt aroma that made her hungry just smelling it. She smiled brightly at the waitress as she accepted her own small dish, the strawberry crepes, looking forward to the delicious little treat.
Dinner temporarily muted the conversation as everyone tucked in with gusto, and Tracy was fine to leave it that way for a couple of minutes as she slowly savored her sweet strawberries, mixed with the mild tang of the vanilla ice cream.
“Your face,” Sing said, smiling lightly, “it's like … some exquisite and exotic treat, of unparalleled flavor, that you want to enjoy to its fullest because you've never had it before and you don't know if you'll ever be able to have it again.”
Tracy smiled back. “You have the nicest way with words,” she murmured, her cheeks pinkening a little. “But yeah, that's how good it tastes to me. It's like the nigh-perfect combination of flavors. All it lacks is a nice touch of chocolate… perhaps some shavings or something.”
Sing laughed gently.
“Besides,” Tracy persisted, ignoring his laughter. “I never want to be one of those people who takes all the wonderful stuff around us for granted. No matter how old I get, I want to look up at a blue sky and think 'wow! What a beautiful sky!' or see a nice tree or a floating balloon or eat a strawberry crepe and just realize what a luxury it is.”
“To gaze upon life,” said Sing, quietly, his voice a bit distant as it tended to be whenever he played with words, “As a dream always on the verge of being remembered, a celebration on the verge of breaking out, a faerie realm on the verge of simply being.”
Tracy let out a soft sigh of delight at the play of words. Jill looked to Tracy with a pained, urgent expression. “Traaaaceeeeee!” she groaned.
Tracy smiled back at Jill, then gave a sly grin at Sing, one eyebrow raised. Sing shifted nervously, Tracy delighting in the pink flush that colored his cheeks again.
The night passed quickly as the friends joked, and it came to an end too soon as everyone leaned back, letting out long, drawn-out sighs and groans of satisfaction, hands resting lightly on overfilled bellies.
“Next time,” Jill promised Alex - again - “You and I are just sharing something.”
They pulled out wallets and chipped in money all around, so that they could leave the waitress with a sizable tip - partly due to generosity, partly because no one could be bothered to figure out how much they actually owed. The group slowly made their way out of the restaurant, still laughing among themselves, but much quieter than before.
“You walking home, Tracy?” asked Ted, as he pulled out his keys.
“Nuh-uh,” said Tracy, shivering as the full bite of the fierce nighttime chill struck her. “Too cold.” She wrapped her arms around herself and bit her lower lip, bouncing up and down on her heels as she waited impatiently for Ted to open up the car door. “Man, it's supposed to be getting warmer by now. What's with all this cold weather?”
“We'll never fit everyone in the back,” Stephen said, shaking his head. “Not with how full we are.”
“What's this 'we' business, Shotgun Boy?” Alex sniped at Stephen. “Not like you have to deal with it.”
Stephen straightened up indignantly. “Hey, now, you think it's easy maintaining a girth like this? No, this takes a dedicated regimen of desk-work and ennui. I'd think you'd be more appreciative!”
“Appreciative?” asked Jill incredulously. “How does your 'girth' help us?”
Striking a melodramatic pose, Stephen declared, “I! … don't know. I hadn't thought that far ahead yet. But when I figure that out …” He paused significantly, then deepened his voice. “You will be the first to know.”
Tracy hurried into the back seat. The seat itself was cold, and it drained the heat rapidly from her back and backside both. She reached over to unlock the far door as Jill came in behind her. Alex and Sing flanked the two ladies, pressing in as they closed the doors on either side.
Tracy snuggled into Sing, tucking up under his arm and into his warmth. Sing gave her a squeeze of a hug, giving a quiet little huff. Beside them, Tracy could hear the intake of breath and the start of the first syllable as Jill started to say something, but a swift kick to the ankle quieted the enthusiastic matchmaker.
Nestled into the warm, musky scent, Tracy let her eyes sink shut, and just shivered against Sing during the interminably long and cold minutes the car spent getting to her house.
Sing got out of the car and let Tracy half-fall out, and several good-byes were called. Normally, Tracy would have let the good-byes draw out, say a few more things, wave as they drove away, but it was just too cold. With a brief “drive safe!” she was at the door, keys already out of her purse and fumbling at the keyhole.
The apartment was still a bit cold when she reached it, and Tracy hurried to her bedroom to grab up her electric blanket and wrap it around her. She could have turned up the heat and transformed the apartment into a sauna, but it was really a waste to warm up the entire apartment when she only needed to warm herself - and she liked cool air as long as she didn't have to be cold, herself.
The warmth soaked into her after a minute or so of shivering, and she breathed deeply of the cool, crisp air, curled up in her reading chair in the corner of her bedroom as she browsed social sites on her smartphone. This was one of her favorite sensations - wrapped up in a warm, toasty blanket as she breathed the winter air deep into her lungs. She smiled to herself as she thought of how very many 'favorite things' she had. Unfortunately, she couldn't stay like that forever, as the three glasses of water at dinner started to remind her.
Reluctantly, Tracy started unfolding herself from the warm blanket, but she sped up once the chilly air hit her, hurrying towards the bathroom. She opened the door and flipped the light on in a single movement, then let out a shriek as something large and furry leaped at her.
“You! You! Nameless horror!” she stammered, clutching at her frantically beating heart. “You mischievous monster! You scared three inches out of me!” Tracy leaned her shoulders back against the wall as she tried to settle herself down. The small gray cat twisted itself around her ankles, purring softly.
The nameless cat had been surprisingly neat and tidy, having done his business in the shower stall where it would be easy to clean up. “Why, thank you!” Tracy chirped happily, breathing out the last of her fight-or-flight panic. “That's so nice of you!”
After she relieved herself, thankful that she hadn't done so earlier when the cat had startled her, she went out into the main room. “Well, it's getting late,” she said to the cat. “You'd best stay out of my way as I do this, or else you might get your tail stepped on.”
Tracy shoved the coffee table over to one side of the room, giving her ample space, and then stepped lightly to the middle of the room. Feet askew, head tilting back lightly, she concentrated on breathing. Her hands rested at her midriff, thumbs and forefingers making an 'O' as she slowly inhaled and exhaled, feeling the air draw in through her nose, out through her pursed mouth, slowly, calmly. She took all her stress and let it seep out of her along with her exhalations, relaxing her whole body as she lo
st track of time.
With her eyes still closed, she lifted both her arms up, then started moving, slowly and surely, through the actions of a Tai Chi form. She breathed in time with her actions, consciously timing it all very carefully, each breath ending along with a movement. Every muscle dedicated itself to the slow forms, the whole body contributing to each new stance.
Finishing the movement, she resumed the original position and began it over again. With her muscles now loosened up, she wasn't doing the movements by the number - she could let herself flow through it with grace. With each repetition, the movements flowed slowly, easily, as they ran from her muscle memory instead of her mind's, reflexes knowing the movements better than she did.
Back and forth across the living room she danced, her long skirts flowing around her. Her mental image was not herself, but a beautiful Hollywood actress in a movie, choreographed and skilled, with dramatic music playing in the background.
A furred touch ran across her calf, and she glanced down to see the rustling of the cat playing under her skirts, dodging her feet easily as she stepped across the room. At first she felt self-conscious, faltering, but the nameless cat's head popped out from under her skirts and gave her such an offended, affronted look that she couldn't help but laugh and continue, giving herself into the movements again, marveling that the cat could play between her feet so quickly without getting stepped on.
She laughed brightly, letting herself speed up through the motions, her feet dancing, her skirts twirling, until she was using the quick motions as a self-defense kata, a dance of redirection and avoidance. She finally came to a stop, breath quick but not panting, her heart pounding with excitement. The cat coiled around her ankle and purred happily, so Tracy squatted to scoop him up.
“You,” she said to the cat, “are a most excellent dance partner,” and gave him a bit of attention, teasing under his chin before putting him down.
The cat trailed after her like a tiny shadow as she went to take a shower, and after that to bed. She fell into a comfortable sleep with the nameless cat she wasn't going to keep curled up on the corner of her pillow, one tiny paw resting on her shoulder as she dreamed pleasant dreams.