by Patricia Fry
"By half an inch," Savannah said. "But you must stand, what, six-foot-two in those monster shoes you're wearing?"
Iris shook her head. "Not quite."
Savannah opened the door at the top of the stairs and the two of them walked up to the front desk.
"Ms. Cathcart, please?" Savannah said in a hushed tone.
"I'm Glenda Cathcart. You must be Savannah Ivey, here to talk about a reading program."
"Yes, and this is Iris Clampton."
Glenda nodded and smiled. "Come on; we can talk in here," she said as she led the two women past the reference section and into her small office.
Forty-five minutes later, the first stage of the proposed program was set. The librarian would send notices to all local grammar schools in order to find out if there was any interest, and Savannah and Iris would contact Alliance members to locate those with cats that might be calm enough to participate in a reading program. Savannah would also go into the schools by invitation to share what she had recently learned about the success of reading programs involving animals.
"Do you have the time to visit all the schools like that?" Iris asked as Savannah drove her home. "I'd help, but since I don't even have a cat…"
"I doubt there will be much call for our visits. But I'm sure I can get a few others to help—Colbi's kitten Dolly might be a good candidate for the program, and my sister's kitten Frankie. Auntie has a few cats at her place that would qualify, too."
"Don't she and Max rescue wild cats?" Iris asked.
"Yes, feral and also domesticated strays—abandoned cats. They get some gentle ones, too, and they have some quiet, calm cats of their own."
"Oh that's right. Layla is a calm cat. Will you take Buffy to help out?" Iris asked. "She should be perfect for the job. She loves to lap-sit."
Savannah thought for a moment and said, "She's kind of an old lady and doesn't like to step outside her comfort zone. I'm not sure how she'd do. It might be a bit overwhelming for Buffy." She glanced over at Iris. "We want both the cats and the kids to have a good experience."
"Makes sense," Iris said. She smiled. "I just love that fluffy little cat."
"More than Rags?" Savannah teased.
Iris smirked and rolled her eyes. "What's to love about a thief?" She reached out and touched Savannah's arm. "I'd take Buffy in a heartbeat, but I'm not sure I could handle all of the excitement that comes with your klepto cat."
Savannah laughed. "Granted, he is a handful. There's never a dull moment with Rags around."
Savannah pulled into Iris's driveway, and the attractive redhead stepped out of the car. She turned and waved, calling out, "Take care, girlfriend."
"Hey," Savannah shouted, "let me know when you want a playdate with Lily. Maybe Michael and I'll go to a movie or something."
"Sure will," Iris said. She threw a kiss and walked up the two steps into her house.
****
The following day, Michael, Savannah, and Lily were on their way back from taking Adam home. "She still snoozing?" Michael asked.
Savannah looked at the baby, smiled, and said, "Yup. Your driving puts her to sleep."
Michael glanced at Savannah through the rearview mirror. "I miss having you in the front seat with me."
"Well, I just feel better being able to see her in case there's a problem or she wakes up frightened or something. I hate that they make you face the baby backward in the backseat now. There's no way parents driving the car can keep an eye on their infant."
"I know. But we can turn her around when she's what—a year?"
"Yes, a year old and weighing twenty pounds, although longer is better, they say."
Michael started chuckling.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"Oh just thinking about Adam and his plan to start a reading program for kids and cats in his school."
"He might just pull it off," Savannah said. "He's one smart cookie."
"He wants to take Tiger to his classroom."
"His kitty seems a little high-strung to be a therapy cat, don't you think?"
"Probably so," he said with a laugh. "He might have his hands full taking Tiger to school." He glanced back at Savannah again and asked, "So how's your program coming along?"
"Good," she said. "Colbi wants to try working with Dolly. Oh, remember Janice Tuttle—the gal with the angoras? She has one that she's sure would be a wonderful listener for a child. And Auntie wants to audition Layla for the program."
"Oh, so the cats will be auditioning, will they?"
"Can't allow any wild cats or scaredy-cats," she said in a serious tone. Savannah jumped and reached into her pocket. "Oh, that's my phone." She looked at the screen. "I don't recognize the number." Into the phone, she said, "Hello?"
Several minutes later, Savannah ended the call and dropped the phone on her lap.
"Who was it?" Michael asked, frowning into the rearview mirror.
"Well," Savannah said, "remember at our Christmas party when Craig got a call from a reporter who wanted to do a story about Rags?"
"Yeah, and he did that little write-up," Michael recalled.
"You mean that article written tongue-in-cheek by that rather skeptical reporter?"
Michael nodded. "That's the one."
"Well, that night, Craig said the guy had mentioned doing a film. This call was from a documentary filmmaker wanting to meet with us."
"Really!?" Michael said. "When?"
"A preliminary meeting next week—he thought maybe Monday or Tuesday evening, and he wants to start filming as early as April tenth."
Michael made quick and fleeting eye-contact with Savannah. "What do you think?"
"Well, you heard me. I said I'd talk it over with you and call him back." She looked down at Lily and said, "I don't know, Michael. What will it mean? How intrusive will this be into our lives? What demands will be put on us? How will it affect Rags—and the other animals? How will it benefit our family, if at all?"
Michael was silent for a moment and then he said, "I guess that's why we would have a preliminary meeting—to get answers to all of that, right? And as far as benefits, maybe you can tie in your work with children and get some publicity for your reading project."
Savannah nodded. She ran her finger over Lily's pudgy little hand. "I guess so." She took a deep breath. "So when do you want to meet?"
****
It had been raining steadily all day when Rob Willoughby arrived at the Iveys' home the following Monday evening. After introductions, Savannah excused herself and carried Lily off to the nursery.
"He's quite a handsome devil," Rob said, looking at the large grey-and-white cat who sat on the coffee table staring at him through clear green eyes. "Okay if I pet him?"
Michael smiled. "Sure. He usually likes a good scratch on the head or behind the ear."
"Is that how you pet a cat?" he asked, reaching out toward Rags.
When Rags turned to sniff his hand, Rob pulled it back. "Does he want to bite me?" he asked.
"No, he wants to get to know you by your scent. He might also find out what you had for dinner, what kind of soap you use, whether or not you petted any other animals before coming here…" Michael explained with a laugh.
Rob raised his eyebrows. "Really!? That's a lot of information—and to think…not one word of it is spoken." He reached out toward the cat again and let him sniff his fingers. Rags stood and pushed his head against Rob's hand. "What's he doing now?" he asked, holding his hand still.
"He's putting his scent on you," Michael said. "Now if you pet another animal, the animal will smell Rags's scent. It's his way of…dibsing you."
"Dibsing him?" Savannah said as she entered the room, carrying the baby monitor.
"Yeah, you know, 'dibs, he's mine,'" Michael explained.
Both Rob and Savannah laughed. She said, "Yeah, cats can be possessive beings."
"Territorial," Michael added.
Rob pushed one side of his unkempt shoulder-length brown hai
r away from his face. "So now, I'm his territory?" he asked.
Savannah noticed that Rags was still staring at the lanky man. "I think so," she said. She then announced, "Baby's asleep. All is calm. Would you like something to drink, Rob? We have bottles of water, coffee, soda, apple juice, tea…"
"After driving in all that rain tonight to get here, hot coffee sounds good, if you don't mind."
Michael stood. "I'll get it," he said as he headed toward the kitchen. He stopped and asked, "Cream or sugar?"
"Black," Rob said. "Thanks." Once Michael had disappeared into the kitchen, Rob said, "So, Mrs. Ivey…"
"Savannah," she corrected.
"Okay, Savannah…" He paused before asking, "Are you from Georgia?"
She shook her head. "No. My folks just liked the 'anna' names. My sister is Brianna. I suppose if they'd had more daughters, they would have been Hannah, PollyAnna, Susanna, RoseAnna…and who knows what they would have named a boy."
Rob laughed. "It's a pretty name. Better than Zamir."
"Zamir?" she asked.
"My middle name—well one of them. I'm Robert Zamir DeCloud Willoughby."
"Sounds…important," Savannah said.
He smirked. "Sounds like a bad committee decision."
"So did a committee name you?" she asked. "I mean, was there input by several family members?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact. My mom, dad, older sister, grandfather, and an uncle. That uncle always called me 'Spider.'"
Savannah laughed. "So his choice of names didn't get a vote; is that it?"
"That's right," he said, joining her in laughter. He then turned somber. "But that was a long time ago. Everyone's gone now. I lost most of my family before I entered high school. Just my sister and I are left."
"Do you have your own family?" Savannah asked.
"No, never did marry." Rob was quiet for a moment. "I'm forty-nine now, and that's something I regret."
Michael walked into the room with two cups of coffee. "I didn't think you wanted coffee tonight, hon. What can I get you to drink?"
"A glass of herbal iced tea sounds good, if you don't mind."
"Coming right up."
Savannah turned her attention back to their guest. "So tell me about the work you do and how you think our cat might fit into the scheme of things."
Rob prepared to speak, when Savannah said, "Oh, sorry, let's wait until Michael returns, if you don't mind. I want him in on all of this."
"Do I have to start over with my name?" he asked, a twinkle in his hazel eyes.
She shook her head. "Naw. Probably not necessary."
When Michael returned with Savannah's tea, she said, "Thank you, hon. Rob was just going to explain how he envisions working with Rags."
An hour and a half later, Michael said, "Well, you've given us a lot to think about, Rob. And that's just what Savannah and I'll do over the next few days, if you don't mind. We have your number; we'll call you, say, by Friday?"
"Sure," he said with a shrug. "And let me know if you have any questions, will you?"
"Are you staying over in town?" Savannah asked as Rob began to put on his jacket.
"Yeah. I have friends in the area. I'll head home in a few days."
"Uh-oh. Wait, Rob. Is that yours?" Michael asked.
The visitor furrowed his brow. "What?"
"Appears to be a plane ticket. Hey, Rags, come here with that. Darn cat," Michael said as he took off up the stairs after the streak of grey-and-white fur.
Savannah grimaced. "I'm sorry," she said. "I hope it isn't anything important."
"Um, well…" he said as he patted his jacket pockets. I did have an airline ticket. It doesn't seem to be here. So what's the deal? He steals?"
"Yes, big time. It's one of his…"
"Charms?" Rob offered.
"Charms? Well, that depends…"
"On whether you're the victim, I suppose," Rob said with a wide grin.
"Right." Savannah turned to face Rob. "Well, this is what you wanted to see…Rags's methods of helping to solve crimes."
"Only sometimes, he's the one committing the crime, right?"
Savannah nodded—a hint of exasperation evident on her pretty face. "So what did he have?" she asked when she saw Michael heading back down the stairs.
He held a packet out toward Rob. "Is this yours?"
After quickly examining it, Rob said, "Well, I'll be. That knucklehead pulled this right out of my pocket. Thanks, Michael, for retrieving it; otherwise I would have been in a world of hurt. Yes, it's an airline ticket. I bought it for my sister as a birthday gift, so she can visit her only grandson in Texas next week. He's almost a year old and she's never seen him." He looked down at the ticket in his hand, shook his head, and said, "Someone had better teach that cat the difference between private property and clues to a crime."
Michael laughed. "You've never been owned by a cat, have you, Rob?"
He shook his head.
"Well, you have a lot to learn about the feline species." Michael grinned. "I can tell you this: if we do this documentary, you'll walk away either disliking cats or completely enthralled with them."
Once the Iveys had bid their guest farewell, closed the door, and turned off the lights, they headed down the hallway toward the nursery. "Well, what do you think? Do we want to get involved in the film industry?" Michael asked.
Without answering, Savannah stepped into the nursery, adjusted the blanket over their baby, and bent down and kissed her on the forehead. Michael smiled at the sleeping infant. "She is so beautiful," he whispered, putting one arm around Savannah and squeezing her to him, "like her mama."
Before stepping out of the room, Savannah knelt down and affectionately petted Buffy, who was curled up in her pink canopy bed in a corner of the nursery. "You watch over our girl, will you, Buffy?" Savannah said. She looked up at Michael. "Isn't it uncanny how much she wants to be with Lily?" She shook her head. "I wasn't for having cats in this room at all, but this little dear insisted, didn't she?"
Michael laughed. "Yeah, she wouldn't budge off the changing table until we moved her bed in here."
"Oh, hi Rags," Savannah said. "Look honey, Rags is giving Buffy a goodnight kiss."
Once they were in their own bedroom next door, baby monitor set up on the bedside table, Savannah said, "Well, Michael, it sounds like it could be kind of fun to go through with the documentary. Like you said, it would shine some light on our reading program. If the program proves to be successful, it would be wonderful to get the publicity and, perhaps, inspire other school districts and libraries to do something similar. I think fighting illiteracy is important."
"I can't argue with that," Michael said, "…but…"
Savannah interrupted. "Did you hear the figure Rob threw out? Like Craig said several months ago, the money would help put our kids through college."
"Yeah, but…" he said.
"What's your but, Michael?" she asked, tilting her head, her blond hair flaring over one shoulder.
"My but is, as you brought up a couple of days ago, do we want to invite the chaos into our home?"
"You heard Rob; it may be only a matter of a few days of filming. They get footage they think they can use and then do splicing and stuff in the studio."
"How many people would be coming here?" he asked.
"As I understand it, he would direct the film, there would be videographers, and an assistant to Rob—assistant producer, I guess—clean-up people…so what's that, maybe a half dozen?" Savannah took in a deep breath. "Yeah, kind of a lot of people, but we have a lot of room. Since they're used to doing this sort of thing, it might not be too chaotic."
"Lights out?" Michael asked after sliding into bed next to his wife.
"Yeah, I'm ready," she said. She ran her hand over Rags, who was sitting next to her pillow. "Are you ready, Mr. Rags?"
Prrrrt.
As the room went dark, Savannah said, "It might be a kind of fun adventure. Maybe Adam would like to come
and watch the filming." She was quiet for a moment and then she said, "I think I'd like to do it. How do you feel, Michael?"
"Kind of lukewarm at the moment. But if it's something you want to do, I can't think of too many reasons why not."
****
"So what are you two doing today?" Michael asked as he walked out of the bathroom into their bedroom the following morning.
Savannah had just changed Lily's diaper and was sitting next to her on their king-size bed. "I'm meeting with the librarian to talk about our reading program. She's heard back from some of the schools and is eager to put a plan into motion."
"So you and Lily will be out running around, huh?"
"No, Glenda's coming here for tea this afternoon. Lily should be napping about then. She's on a pretty good schedule now."
Michael smiled down at their daughter. "And she's such a happy baby, so contented. Are all babies like that?"
"I don't think so—not from what I hear. I think we're lucky."
"Boy are we." Michael was silent. He sat down on the other side of Lily and said, "I wonder sometimes what kind of baby Adam was. Since I didn't meet him until he was already eight years old, I missed all of his infant and toddler years."
"I'll bet he was a model child," Savannah said with a smile. She reached out and smoothed her hand over her husband's hair.
"It's easy to imagine that he was. He's such a…" he started to choke up. "He's just a great kid. I'm so glad Marci finally told me about him and that we can spend time with him. But now that we have Lily, I do wonder about…"
"Honey, I think we ought to just enjoy the boy we know and not let regret enter into our relationship with him or with Marci and Eric. We couldn't ask for a more charming, fun, interesting, bright boy or a better relationship with his other parents. I'd say we should cherish what we have."
Michael took a deep breath. "You're right, of course. Thank you," he said, kissing her. He then lifted Lily's little shirt and blew raspberries on her belly. She kicked her legs and giggled out loud. Michael and Savannah laughed. He did it again and Lily giggled again.
Savannah stood, grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand, and started recording the play session, laughing so hard she had trouble holding the phone still. "Oh, I have to send this to my mom," she said after viewing the video. She plopped down on the bed and said, "I sure miss Mom being here to watch her grow and change and learn."