Like Cats and Dogs

by Kate McMurray

  “Sounds like you’re expanding.”

  “Yeah. It’s weird. I’ll admit, when I took this job, I loved it, but I thought it was kind of a novelty. I used to manage a coffee shop, and a cat café opened up nearby, tucked into this storefront around the corner, but it lasted maybe four months.”

  “And you took the job anyway?”

  “Diane is persuasive.”

  Caleb wanted to ask more about that, but he felt like an idiot just standing on the sidewalk. “Uh, you have plans tonight?”

  She smiled. “Not really, no.”

  “I’m headed home myself.”

  “Oh.” She seemed disappointed by that.

  “I was going to walk. Would you like to walk with me? Maybe get some dinner close to my place? Meet Hank?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  She smiled, which made warmth spread in his chest, a feeling he didn’t want to analyze too closely. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

  It wasn’t until they turned the corner to walk north toward Caleb’s apartment that it registered: He’d asked her to do something and she’d said yes and they’d exchanged nary an angry word. Caleb didn’t want to think too hard about what that meant. Had something in their relationship changed? Should it have? Did he want it to?

  Best not to think about it. Asking her to come home with him had been an entirely spontaneous decision. He had no motive beyond wanting to spend time with her. And why did he want to spend time with her?

  Nope. Not going there.

  They walked and made small talk about how nice the weather was for the next block. Then he said, “So how did you end up going from a coffee shop to managing a cat café?”

  She laughed. “I don’t know. Life is strange sometimes. My college degree is in art history.”

  Well, that figured. Caleb didn’t want to be judgmental, but Lauren did strike him as the sort of person who would spend a lot of money on a degree in something useless.

  “I see your face,” she said. “You’re not wrong. My original plan had been to go to grad school and get a job as a museum curator, but one internship at the Met taught me those jobs are pretty hard to come by. But I had a job as a sales associate at Bloomingdale’s, mostly fetching shoes from the back for customers. After I graduated, I got a promotion, and then I saw the opening at the coffee shop and got a job as a manager. Diane used to get tea there regularly, so we’d get to talking. I mean, you’ve met her. She treats everyone like they’re her old friends. When she offered me the job, I thought she was kidding.”

  “So, wait, she just randomly offered you the job?”

  “Pretty much, yeah. That’s kind of how Diane is. She operates by instinct, not logic, but her instincts rarely fail her. So I came to check out the space, and she showed me the business plan for it. I already knew how to run a café, but adding the cat component was an interesting challenge. I had cats as a kid, but nothing like this. But I was over working at the coffee shop and having to put out fires with wealthy patrons who yelled at me for everything, from not carrying coconut milk to the depth of the roast on the coffee beans to the speed with which my employees made lattes. So when Diane offered me the job, it seemed like a fun opportunity, and at the time, I figured if it was a flop, it might be the kick I needed to try to find a job that was more fulfilling. Luckily it worked out.”

  Caleb shook his head. He couldn’t imagine taking such a leap of faith. “So you just…took a job managing a business you didn’t think would last, working for a woman you didn’t know very well?”

  “Well, it sounds silly when you say it like that. It was a good opportunity. Was I supposed to sell bossy rich people overpriced hot beverages for the rest of my life?”

  “No.” That seemed like a waste of Lauren’s talents in fact. “I’m just…” But he was trying not to start a fight with her. His instinct was to argue, to point out how foolish such a choice had been, to demonstrate she was flighty and impulsive. But that was this jerk version of himself, the one who kept everyone at a distance. The one who was lonely now. “It’s not something I would do.”

  She nudged him with her shoulder. “Nice save.”

  “I’m trying to turn over a new leaf. Not be such a jerk.”

  “It’s fine, you know. Don’t try to fight your own nature.”

  He laughed. “No, it’s just… I’ve always had a plan. In high school, I knew I wanted to be a veterinarian. I studied biology and animal science in college, I went to vet school, I opened a practice. I did all the things I was supposed to do. I’m not… I don’t like spontaneity. This evening notwithstanding.”

  They walked silently for a few minutes. Then Lauren said, “Ah, I see.”

  Something in her tone rubbed him the wrong way. “What do you see?”

  “That was why your divorce threw you for such a loop. You didn’t see it coming and it wasn’t part of the plan. You met your ex-wife in vet school, right? You got married after you graduated? That was all part of your plan. Your wife left you, and it threw a wrench in your plan.”

  That was…quite astute, actually. But it also showed why he and Lauren would never work as a couple. He needed more stability in his life. She would uproot him on a regular basis.

  “Well, now that you’ve assessed me psychologically, how was your day?” he asked.

  “Fine. Busy. We had enough customers today to more than justify my desire to hire more people.”

  “That’s good.”

  “You? How was work, honey?”

  Her tone was a little facetious, the honey a joke, so he ignored it. “It was fine. A little stressful. This morning, I treated a lizard with a cold. Then I had some dog owners in this afternoon who were a lot.”

  Lauren smiled. “You know, I don’t really like the term owner for people who have pets. It implies the animals are objects instead of friends and companions.”

  Oh, boy. Caleb didn’t want to argue, but that was pretty silly. “Are you one of these pet parent types who goes on about your fur babies? Because the couple who brought their dog in today kept saying that. I mean, no offense, I guess, but that always sounds weird to my ears.”

  Lauren frowned, which indicated she’d probably called a cat a fur baby a time or two in her life. “I mean, I’m not so naive as to think taking care of a dog or a cat is the same as taking care of a human baby. Actually, I think cats are more like teenagers. You have to put out food and clean up after them, you try to keep them out of trouble, but otherwise, they basically get along on their own.”

  “Sure.”

  “But anyway, maybe parent is not the right word, either. I don’t know. Pet caretaker?”

  “Makes the pet sound like an old house.”

  Lauren sighed. “But owner doesn’t work. First of all, I’d argue cats really own us. They often just show up and move themselves in. Pet friend?”

  Caleb laughed. “I don’t know.” He thought this whole argument was silly, but he was enjoying talking to Lauren.

  They were nearing Borough Hall, which meant they’d have to make some choices about which direction to walk in if they were going to get dinner. “How do you feel about Vietnamese food?”

  “I like it. Are you changing the subject to avoid picking a fight with me about how ridiculous I’m being?”

  “A little. But basically, soon we’ll have to decide if we want Asian or Mexican food to the left or burgers or sandwiches to the right.”

  “Vietnamese is fine. Have we…turned a new leaf?”

  “You sound condescending, but I really am trying to not be a jerk. I’ll pick a fight with you if you really want, cat lady.”

  “Well, let’s wait until we get to your place. No need to make a scene.”

  ***

  Caleb’s place turned out to be a garden apartment with its own entrance in a brownstone a few block
s from Borough Hall. Lauren had long thought “garden apartment” was just a euphemism for “ground floor,” but in this case, French doors at the back of the apartment really did lead out to a garden that the house’s owner maintained.

  The apartment was nice, although sparsely furnished. There was a butter-yellow sofa in the narrow living room that faced a nice TV and several bookcases stuffed with veterinary textbooks, doorstopper history books, and some battered fantasy novels. A galley kitchen in the middle was small but had clearly been renovated recently, and it led to the bedroom in the back.

  And, of course, there was the huge dog who hopped happily in greeting when Lauren and Caleb had walked through the door.

  In other words, it was downright swanky for a bachelor apartment, and it demonstrated how fussy and clean Caleb was, and also how few things he owned, although Lauren guessed he’d lost some things in the divorce.

  The poor dog was nearly apoplectic with excitement to be meeting a new person. Lauren knelt on the floor and scratched his ears. “Hi, buddy. I’m very happy to meet you, too.” He licked her face in response, which tickled enough to make her laugh.

  Caleb dropped the takeout bag on a little table just outside the kitchen and said, “Dig in. I’m going to take Hank out back and then feed him.”

  While Caleb took care of Hank, Lauren unpacked the bag of food from the Vietnamese restaurant. It seemed like they’d ordered half the menu, probably because Lauren had been indecisive. There were bun noodles and spring rolls and meat on skewers and a plastic tub of pho. She thought about raiding Caleb’s cabinets for plates and silverware, but he came back inside with Hank before she got there.

  “Plates?” she said.

  “Yeah, hang on. Be right with you.”

  Lauren leaned in the archway that led to the kitchen and watched as Caleb went through what was probably his evening routine. He told Hank to sit, then crossed the kitchen and scooped some dog food from a huge plastic container into Hank’s bowl. Then he stood up and said, “Go get it.” Hank bounded across the kitchen and started gobbling up his food.

  “He came trained,” Caleb said. “He was well cared for before he was left at the vet clinic. I can’t figure out why someone would just abandon a dog like that, but their loss is my gain, I guess. He’s a good dog.” He pulled a couple of plates from a cabinet and forks from a drawer and joined Lauren at the table.

  They had a pleasant meal, carrying on conversation as easily as they had on their walk here while Hank nosed around at their feet waiting for food to drop. Caleb explained that he and his ex-wife had honeymooned in Asia, touring Japan, South Korea, China, Vietnam, and Thailand. They’d essentially eaten their way across all five countries. Even after all that had happened, he seemed nostalgic about the trip. He still loved Asian food.

  “You know, it’s funny,” Lauren said. “I worked with a woman at Bloomingdale’s who once dated an Indian man, and after that relationship imploded, you couldn’t even say ‘tikka masala’ around her without her losing her mind. She’s missing out. I’d never let a man force me to give up Indian food. I love curry too much.”

  “I tried that Indian place near the vet clinic. Their lunch special is more food than any human should eat in one sitting, but it’s so good I want to.”

  Lauren laughed. “Yeah, that place is good. The Thai place on Bond Street is just okay. A little bland, but I like their pineapple fried rice. There was this great Thai place near my old apartment in Manhattan. The decor is kooky, but they make the best pad thai in Manhattan.”

  “Where did you live before?”

  “Upper East Side, but before you judge, I was on Second Avenue during peak subway construction when it was so loud all the old ladies who lunch moved out and rents went down, so I could afford it. It was a strange apartment. The toilet was in one little room on one end, and the rest of the bathroom was on the other. It made mornings with my roommate require some choreography.”

  “Olivia told me when she first moved to the city after college, she lived in an Upper West Side studio that didn’t have a bathroom. She had to share with everyone else on the floor. I thought that kind of stuff was a myth.”

  “Hey listen, moneybags, we all have to make sacrifices to afford to live here. If Diane didn’t give me such a steep discount, I couldn’t afford to live anywhere within three subway stops of the Cat Café.”

  “Did the apartment come with the job offer?”

  “No, actually. I was commuting from the Upper East Side, which was awful. I had to walk all the way to Lexington Ave to get the subway, then ride the train for an hour very early in the morning to make it to the café by opening, then walk another six blocks when I got here. So when my lease was up, I mentioned to Diane that I was thinking of moving closer, just in a, ‘Hey, if you know of anyone looking for a roommate in Brooklyn, let me know’ kind of way. I’d been working at the Cat Café for maybe six or seven months at that point. And Diane goes, ‘I just lost the tenants in a one-bedroom upstairs,’ and she offered it to me for a rent she knew I could afford, since she pays my salary. It’s basically half what anyone else in the neighborhood would pay for a one-bedroom.”

  “Wow.”

  “On the flip side, I’m kind of at her beck and call. I help her out with errands and stuff when she needs a hand. That’s the trade off, I guess. I don’t mind at all, though. She’s really very nice.”

  Caleb frowned. “She’s nosy.”

  Lauren smirked. “So you’ve met her.”

  “I have, yeah. Always asks me a lot of questions about my personal life.”

  “Yeah. She does that. Worse than my mom.”

  They chatted about their families. Lauren’s parents lived near Columbus, Ohio, and she had a brother who was currently finishing his law degree at Georgetown. Caleb was an only child, and his parents lived in Maine. He did have a hint of a New England accent—there was something very Boston about the way he pronounced certain vowel sounds—but it had faded to the point that it wasn’t always detectable.

  Talking and sharing personal trivia with Caleb was…nice. And it felt like a date. But she and Caleb weren’t even in a real relationship, were they?

  “So you like food,” Caleb said.

  “I love food. Who doesn’t?”

  “I dated this girl in undergrad who wouldn’t eat in front of other people.”

  “Like, at all?”

  “Yeah. We only dated long enough for me to figure that out. We’d go out to a restaurant, and she’d order a meal, eat none of it, and ask for a doggy bag.”

  “I will admit to ordering a salad on dates sometimes so the handsome stranger I’m dining with won’t judge my choices, but I can’t imagine just not eating.”

  “You haven’t ordered a salad any of the times we’ve had dinner together.”

  “We’re not dating, are we?”

  “Fair.”

  Lauren didn’t want to dwell on that point, so she said, “My friend Lindsay is a food writer, so she’s gotten me into some pretty swanky restaurants.”

  Caleb smiled. “I’ve gleaned from talking to the other vets at the clinic that an important component of being a New Yorker is talking about the best meals you’ve eaten.”

  “Lindsay got me into Gramercy Tavern to try their tasting menu because she went to culinary school with one of the sous-chefs. So good. I didn’t know food could taste like that.” She mimed drooling. “What was your best meal in New York?”

  Caleb laughed. “My ex and I ate at Morimoto for our last anniversary. The sushi was actually a little plain, but the rest of the seafood was some of the best I’ve ever had. Clean and fresh. And remember that I’m from Maine. I grew up eating seafood right off the boat.”

  “Yeah?”

  “One of my cousins is a lobsterman and has a little mussel farm off the coast.”

  “You can farm mussels?”r />
  “Yeah. You drop these ropes into the water that are covered with what is basically mussel seed, or baby mussels. Then they grow right there on the ropes.”

  “And they’re safe to eat?”

  “Yeah, totally. They grow bigger and taste better than mussels found in the wild.”

  “I had no idea. You know about all kinds of animals, don’t you?”

  “It’s true, I do.”

  “What’s the weirdest pet anyone brought you?”

  Caleb chuckled. He appeared to think about it for a moment. “One of my patients in Boston was a fennec fox. Those are the ones with the huge ears.”

  “You can have those as pets?”

  “Not legally, and I wouldn’t recommend it. This guy was tame, but they’re little predators.”

  “I mean, so are cats.”

  “True, but fennec foxes belong in a desert climate, not a house. House cats have adapted to indoor living over many generations. The fox was a cute little guy, though. About the size of a Chihuahua. On the other hand, he had this squeal that would blow out your eardrums.”

  Caleb cleaned up after they ate and then invited Lauren to his bedroom. As he closed the curtains, she said, “This wasn’t a date, was it?”

  “No,” he said. “This was two…people…eating dinner.”

  “Is that what we are to each other? People?”

  “People who sleep together.”

  Well, all right. Not a lie. “You know, we haven’t really argued today.”

  “I can change that if you want me to, cat lady.”

  Lauren sighed and sat at the foot of the bed. Hank wandered over, sniffed her leg, then retreated to a dog bed in the corner, flopping down with a whump.

  “I don’t want to fight. But what are we doing here if it’s not that?”

  Caleb turned toward her and frowned. “Do you want me to draw a diagram?”

  “So this is just sex, and the fact that somehow, in the last few weeks, we actually started getting along doesn’t matter?”

  “We were clear from the word jump that we weren’t going to have a romantic relationship. Neither of us wanted that. Right?”