Like Cats and Dogs

by Kate McMurray

  Lauren recognized belatedly that there was an invitation in Caleb’s voice; he was asking her to walk home with him. Did she want to do that? Something about having to actually go somewhere gave the moment more importance.

  “Well,” said Caleb. “Maybe I should go.”

  “Finish your coffee, at least.”

  He smiled.

  They sat in companionable silence for a minute. Searching for something to talk about, Lauren said, “So, Boston, right? That’s where you lived before you moved here?”

  “Yeah, my ex and I had a clinic in Back Bay. Do you know Boston at all?”

  “I went there once to visit a friend from college. Her husband has a very park-the-car-in-Harvard-Yard accent.” She affected the best Boston accent she could.

  Caleb chuckled. “As a New Englander, I should be offended by that, but we had some clients who spoke like they just walked off the set of The Departed.”

  “You don’t have an accent.”

  “Believe me, I put some work into that. It comes back when I’m home. But if you’re ever in Portland, I can tell you all the best places to get a lobster roll.”

  He’d turned his accent on—“lobstah roll”—which made Lauren laugh. “Do you go up there much?”

  “Not as much as I’d like. My ex got the car in the divorce, too, in that she literally drove off in it when she left town.”

  “So she got the car and the dog. What did you get in the divorce?”

  He sighed and looked away, probably not super willing to talk about it. “I got a slightly larger percent of the clinic sale, basically. Her lawyer was a real shark, though.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

  “It’s all right.” Caleb rubbed his forehead.

  Lauren knew better than to push him into talking about it, so she said, “What other Boston movies are there? Good Will Hunting?”

  Caleb offered her an indulgent smile, like he knew what she was doing. “I remember really liking that movie, but I haven’t seen it in years. I had a buddy in college who went to the same high school as Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, although a few years later obviously, and he was really proud of that fact.”

  “Well, I went to the same high school as Guy Fieri, so take that.”

  “Who’s Guy Fieri?”

  “He’s that Food Network guy with the bleached hair and the goatee who wants to take you to Flavortown.”

  Caleb laughed. “Oh, sure, that guy. Where are you from again?”

  “Columbus.”

  “Right, okay. Well, my high school produced no one very famous. A second-tier NFL linebacker, a soap actress, the drummer for a punk band that had one hit in 1982, but otherwise no one of note.”

  “Except you!”

  “I’m hardly famous.”

  “No, but you are successful.” Lauren grinned. “I went to my ten-year reunion last year, and my main goal was to show how cool and successful I am out here in New York City. I had just gotten hired at the Cat Café, so I was all, ‘I manage a business and I live in Brooklyn, how cool am I?’”

  “How did that go over?”

  “My former classmates were way impressed with the fact that I lived in New York City and kept telling me that my life must have been very glamorous or very dangerous. Although I think most people were like, ‘Wait, who are you again?’”

  Caleb nodded. “I didn’t go to my ten-year reunion. And my graduating class only had sixty students, so I definitely knew everyone.”

  “Small high school.”

  “Small town.” Caleb looked around the room. “So your classmates were not impressed by your glamorous life as a cat café manager?”

  “Well. Some were.” Lauren watched Caleb look around, trying to interpret the look on his face. “You don’t take this very seriously, do you?” she asked.

  “What, the Cat Café? Whatever you’re doing seems to be working. This place is always busy when I walk by.”

  “You’re a vet. You know people find petting animals soothing. The cats here are all pretty docile and friendly. After all, we send the hard-luck cases to you.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Olivia and I had to neuter a couple of feral cats yesterday. One of them was real nasty when he came out of anesthesia. I was worried he’d scratch my eyes out.”

  “Yeah, the ferals can be mean. I assume Mitch will bring those back to the colony behind the Brooklyn Museum.”

  “So that’s an official colony, huh?”

  “Yeah. They mostly stay away during the day, but they hang out in the parking lot at night. The museum thinks they are kind of a menace, but it’s really the safest way to control the feral population in Brooklyn. They can’t be in homes, and we can’t just euthanize them, at least I wouldn’t be able to. So Mitch—he’s the guy who brought me the kittens—he runs an organization that traps and tags the cats. They spay or neuter any they find that are untagged then release them back to the colony. And still, new cats sneak in all the time.”

  “Are feral cats a problem in Brooklyn?”

  “They are. Monique lives in Prospect Lefferts Gardens, and she says there are feral cats all over, and they are real bold. They go through her trash at night, like raccoons.” Lauren sighed. She assumed Brooklyn’s feral cat population included strays, cats that escaped, or cats that were abandoned by their owners. There were several no-kill shelters in Brooklyn, and there were veterinary clinics and places like the Cat Café that would take in house cats if people couldn’t care for them anymore. Those cats could have better lives in new homes rather than being turned out on the street. It broke Lauren’s heart to think about.

  “Were you this passionate about cats before you worked here?” Caleb asked.

  Lauren tried not to hear the mild disdain in his tone. “Sure, I’ve always been a cat person. I’ve gotten more involved in the pet communities here since coming to manage this place, though. I know people at all the shelters, I try to attend meetings of this pet owners group in Park Slope, and I’ve met my share of cat people. And I’ve learned a ton about feline behavior since I’ve worked here.” She smiled. It was a lot of work and it could be stressful, but this was a dream job in a way. Not the sort of thing she ever saw herself doing, but running a business that made people happy was something she enjoyed daily.

  “You think it’s silly,” she said.

  “Did I say that? If it makes people happy, who cares what I think?”

  Lauren tried and failed to read his tone. “You’re not…the warmest person.”

  He rolled his eyes, which got Lauren’s hackles up. He said, “You’re hardly the first to say so.”

  “I don’t mean to offend you. I’m just making an observation.”

  “I’ve gotten used to putting some professional distance between me and my patients.”

  “Am I one of your patients?”

  He frowned. “No.”

  “I’m not asking you to be anyone but yourself, but this professional distance thing you have can be… I don’t know how to describe it. I just wish you could figure out how to turn it off. See the world a little differently.”

  “Oh, here we go.”

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me. I don’t know if this is, like, a divorce thing or if you’ve always been like this, but if you’re really this jaded, why even bother? Do you not care about your patients?”

  “Of course I care about my patients!” Caleb’s tone was sharp. “I love animals. That’s why I got into veterinary medicine to begin with.” He rubbed his forehead. “I even like cats sometimes. Do I want one as a pet? No, not especially. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a good doctor.”

  “I didn’t say you weren’t!”

  “You kind of implied it.”

  Lauren groaned. “Look, cards on the table? I find it frustrating that you maintain this
distance, or whatever it is. I get that you don’t want any romance, I probably wouldn’t either if I’d just gotten divorced, but you could try to not be a jackass all the time.”

  “Who’s being a jackass? I was trying to make conversation. Then you started down this road, talking about what a cold bastard I am. That’s not a news flash, by the way. And cards on the table? Yeah, I think this place is a little silly. I appreciate the work you do for pet adoptions, but if I wanted cat hair in my coffee, I’d drink the stuff Rachel makes at the clinic every morning.”

  Lauren let out a frustrated grunt. “I keep forgetting we can’t stand each other. Us getting along for a few minutes there distracted me.”

  “Here’s your reminder, I guess.”

  “Why did I ever sleep with you?”

  “Interesting question. Neither of us was in our right minds, I guess.”

  “Shit.” Lauren rubbed her forehead. She still didn’t regret sleeping with him as such, because it had been good, but this conversation was a good reminder of how incompatible they were. “If that’s how you feel…”

  He grunted. “I’m not trying to be a dick. I guess we just rub each other the wrong way…when we’re not rubbing each other the right way.”

  Lauren laughed despite herself. “That was bad.”

  “I know. It just sort of popped into my head. But otherwise, I don’t know what to tell you. You don’t care for my personality. It’s not like I can easily change it. You knew what you were getting into when you slept with me.”

  “Yeah, I did. Maybe you should just go home, Caleb.”

  “Fine.”

  Without any further word, he grabbed his bag and left the café.

  Chapter 11

  “Well, I hate him again.”

  Evan and Paige glanced at each other. They were the only ones at a table in the back of the cat area of the café, during the slow period just after lunch.

  “Dr. Fitch?” Paige asked.

  Lauren dropped into a chair. “He came by the café last night and we had a fight. I don’t know why I thought we could even be friends. Clearly the other morning was just a weird fluke because we were tired and stressed and relieved the cats were okay. So that’s over.”

  Evan shook his head. “Nope.”

  “No?”

  “I don’t think it’s over. I think it’s just the beginning. I think you guys are so bent out of shape over each other that all that passion bubbles up as arguments. If you just fucked instead, you wouldn’t fight.”

  “That’s garbage, Ev.”

  “Is it? That morning you banged each other, did you fight?”

  Lauren thought back on it. She guessed they hadn’t argued at all. “No.”

  Evan crossed his arms. “I rest my case.”

  “One cannot build a relationship on just fucking,” Lauren pointed out.

  “I dunno. I spent several very promising months with that guy Brent.” Evan turned toward Paige and said in a loud whisper, “Dick like a porn star. We spent basically the entire first month of our relationship exploring what he could do with it.”

  Paige giggled.

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Did you marry that guy? No.”

  “Anyway, despite the fact that you are definitely going to fall in love and marry that guy and pay me ten bucks, you said you didn’t want a relationship anyway, so what’s the problem? Screw his brains out, then go back to hating each other if you like.”

  “You don’t make any sense,” said Lauren.

  “Well, you can be angry but getting laid or angry but not getting laid, and I know which of those I’d choose.”

  “He kind of has a point,” said Paige.

  “Ugh, don’t encourage him.”

  “Is he coming to the adoption night?” asked Evan. “I can talk to him if you want. Get the real scoop. Ask if he likes you.”

  “I am an adult woman, thank you very much, not a seventh grader. And I already know he’s attracted to me. He just doesn’t like me very much. And speaking of the adoption event, that’s what we’re here to discuss, not my love life.”

  “You brought it up,” Evan pointed out.

  Lauren opened her notebook to a clean page and clicked her pen a couple of times. “Look, is there anything remaining on the to-do list?”

  Paige looked at her own notes. “We’re basically covered. There’s a case of plastic cups in back for drinks. The bartender is all set to arrive a half hour before doors open. We should probably buy a few more bottles of wine just in case, but we can also just run down to the corner liquor store if we’re getting low.”

  “Food?”

  “Ah, you’re going to love me.” Paige grinned. “I called all of our regular food vendors and asked if they could donate anything. So we’ll have some pastries, and Pierre’s Bakeshop is bringing some savory things. So there will be mini-quiches and something else. All free of cost to the event.”

  “You are a rock star.”

  “Evan designed signs for each of the cats up for adoption, so I got those printed today,” said Paige. “I figured we could post them around the room. And I talked to Olivia when I went out for lunch. She’s got flyers made up about the kittens you brought in, and she said you could stop by this evening to grab those.”

  “Cool, thanks.”

  “We should be nice to them because they gave us a pretty fat check in exchange for having their name all over everything. So maybe don’t murder their new vet.”

  “I won’t. This week. After the adoption night, all bets are off.” Lauren sighed. “Sounds like we’re in good shape, though.”

  “We are,” said Paige. “I know this is the first time we’re serving liquor, and that adds some variables, but this should really go well. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me too. Thank you, guys, really. I know this is your job, Paige, but you’ve really kicked ass planning this one.”

  “Thanks, boss.”

  “Pierre is really giving us food for free? That’s wild.”

  Paige laughed. “I think I said, ‘It’s for a good cause’ about eight hundred times before he relented, but yes.”

  “I should give you a raise.”

  Paige grinned. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, but…”

  Paige did deserve a higher salary. Lauren knew she could be assertive when needed; she’d likely charmed fancy hotels into discounts when she’d done event planning for a bank. It bothered Lauren that the café couldn’t afford to pay her more because she was worth three times her salary. But if Paige was happy working for peanuts so she didn’t have to go back to her corporate job, Lauren was grateful.

  The bell over the front door rang and Diane’s voice drifted toward the back. It sounded like she was with at least one man, and they seemed to be arguing.

  “I wonder what that’s about?” Lauren said.

  She got up and walked to the café area. Diane was there with two men in suits, which seemed very strange. Monique was behind the counter and wore an alarmed expression. Lauren pulled the door to the cat room closed and walked over to the men. “Can I help you?”

  “Ah, Lauren,” said Diane. “Lauren is my manager here. Lauren, this is Mr. Randolph and his assistant, Mr. Newton. They work in real estate.”

  Lauren shook each man’s hand while thinking that “they work in real estate” sounded a lot like a euphemism. She took it to mean Mr. Randolph was an investor and not an agent. And then her stomach flopped. Was this the developer buying up property on Whitman Street? Was he here to buy Diane’s building?

  Would she sell after all?

  Lauren tried to smile and not let the horror she felt show on her face. The assistant, Mr. Newton, was not doing as good a job at that and looked thoroughly disgusted.

  “You know it’s illegal for animals to be anywhere food is served,”
he said, eyeing Sadie’s cat bed in the corner. Sadie was currently asleep on a sofa in the cat room, which Lauren was grateful for, because this looked like the sort of man who might report them.

  “Our lawyer says the current set up is compliant with the law,” Lauren said.

  “It’s dangerous having animals and food so close to each other.”

  Mr. Newton was a skinny man with a nasal voice, and he was clearly grossed out by the idea of an animal getting anywhere near his food.

  “I take it you don’t have pets,” Lauren said.

  “God, no. Cats carry disease, you know. Having food near a cat is a good way to get toxoplasmosis.”

  “There are no litter boxes anywhere near the food. And you can get toxoplasmosis from uncooked meat, too.”

  “Okay!” said Diane. “This business is thriving and I’m committed to it continuing to thrive, so we have a lawyer on retainer to make sure we’re following the letter of the law, and I can assure you the cats and the food do not interact. Customers who don’t want to eat near the cats can eat out here. They are free to choose to eat with the cats, too. It’s really no different than if you had dinner at your own house with your dog in the room, now is it?”

  Mr. Randolph had been silent during this whole exchange, but now he said, “Thriving? There are no customers.”

  “It’s the slow time of day. And we do have a customer in the back,” said Lauren. After all, Evan paid for his coffee. Most of the time. “It’ll pick back up later this afternoon. And we’ve been doing great business in the morning, especially since the café across the street closed.”

  “Yes,” said Mr. Randolph. “I own that building now. I’m here meeting my neighbors, you see.”

  Sizing them up, more likely. Why else would he get in touch with Diane first? Lauren would have bet Randolph had designs on this building and was here to look at the retail space. Sure enough, he said, “Mind if I peek in there?” He gestured toward the cat room.

  “All right.”

  Not surprisingly, Newton stayed put, standing near the counter with his hands shoved in his pockets. Diane shot Lauren a look that briefly expressed her displeasure at the situation.