Must Love Cats

by Brown, Tara

  He lifts his stare to mine. “You’re right.” He takes a deep breath of the frigid spring air.

  “Take some time for yourself and heal and when you’re ready, start over fresh. It’s what I’m doing.”

  “Yeah, look at you living here. You like it?” He sizes up the building.

  “Love it. While it’s not a house and that can be a bit annoying, for now it’s perfect. It’s all I need. What are you going to do? Sell the house?” My heart hurts for him. And me. But mostly for him. This is new. The sting of it is intense in the beginning.

  “I don’t know. Stay home and work and try not to drink myself into oblivion.”

  “You should see someone, a therapist or someone. Being alone during this won’t help,” I offer. “I know someone. A great therapist.”

  “Maybe email me that name.” He surprises me with his reply. “I’m thinking about getting a dog. Elaine hated dogs. I’ve wanted one forever and now that she’s gone, I could rescue one. Not a puppy. I can’t do puppies. I’m too busy. But maybe a middle-aged dog.” He nods and stands. “I was thinking about popping over to the SPCA later to check and see if they have any. I heard they’re adopting fast right now with the pandemic.”

  His words hit me as if a confirmation of something I’ve been thinking about for months. Liz has suggested it so many times but I’ve disregarded her. It’s out of character and unexpected but the exact thing I am missing from my life. Companionship. “You know what, I’ll meet you there. I’ll run back in and get my keys.”

  “You want a dog too?”

  “Cat,” I say excitedly. “I’ve wanted one for years but—”

  “Rod’s allergic.” He nods. “Of course. Though that’s probably a lie too. Okay, I’d offer you a ride but I guess—”

  “Better not,” I agree. “I’ll meet you there in like half an hour?”

  “Deal.” He perks up and we part. I rush into the building to get my keys and down the elevator again to the underground parking to fetch Helen. It takes her a solid minute to warm up.

  When she is halfway to toasty, I pull out and drive for Dartmouth.

  My heart races and my brain begs for a second to think about this. But I know what I’m like. I’ll never do it if I think. I need to act. For once.

  When I arrive there, Brent’s waiting outside with a couple of other people. I park and hurry over to him, staying six feet back.

  “We’re next,” he says excitedly.

  The SPCA is a cute red building that resembles a barn. I like the country feel of it.

  The door opens and a large family leaves with a pair of puppies.

  “Everyone must have the same idea. Perfect time to get a pet. We all have time to train and need company,” Brent says.

  “That’s true.” My mouth is dry and a weird tingle of déjà vu tiptoes through me. I swear I’ve been here recently but the memory feels funny. Like a dream.

  “Okay, you three can come in. Please sanitize your hands and maintain the six-foot distance. If you want to see an animal, one of us will help you,” a nice SPCA lady says.

  Brent and I walk into the building behind the lady who was in line in front of us, cleaning hands and maintaining distance.

  The SPCA has a weird smell, part cleaner and something else. Anxious animals maybe mixed with kitty litter and an old building.

  It’s clinical, like a vet’s office, but not as clean.

  “What can I help you with?” the sweet lady who let us in asks me, specifically.

  “A cat. I’d like to adopt a cat.”

  “Okay. Well, let’s look and see if any of them strike you as your future family member.” She leads me to the left.

  I give Brent an excited smile as another lady leads him to the dog area, even though he can’t see my lips. His stare suggests he is beaming back.

  The moment she opens the door revealing walls lined with metal cages, we hear the mewing. My heart cracks, maybe because there was already a sizeable fissure started. “We don’t have as many as usual. A lot of lonely people have been adopting, needing company during this hard time.” She hurries to the right and stops mid row, turning around. “These are them. Take a peek and read their write-ups. I’ll be just over here.” She points to a small desk.

  “Okay, thanks.” I start perusing. Some of the cats come to their doors and paw at me. It’s heartbreaking to see them so needy for love and affection. I keep my hands to myself as I was told. But all I want to do is love them all. Tears form in my eyes as I wrestle with the need to take them all home but can’t. I might have to get a farm or animal rescue and—whew. I take a breath and remind myself the cats are being adopted. They’re safe here. It’s not a kill shelter. It’s okay.

  I move past a couple of cats and stop. A black-and-white one stares at me from the back of the cage. His green eyes meet mine, and I swear I know this cat.

  “This guy is handsome,” I say and walk to him.

  The cat in the cage perks up, seeing me. His ears, which seem small for his fluffy face, twitch. He’s adorable, even hiding in the shadows.

  “Oh, you are cute.” His whiskers are big for his face and his eyes are enormous.

  The lady sighs, “That’s Romeo. He’s the sweetest. A bit shy at first but the second he warms up, he’s a snuggler.”

  His gaze meets mine and I know right away. This is the little man I need in my life. He dares a couple of soft steps forward, eyes wide and curious.

  “Would you like to see him play in the playroom?” the lady asks.

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll just get him,” I reply, not breaking eye contact with him. The truth is I can’t stay here a second longer than necessary. I’m dying from the need to adopt every one.

  “Sounds good. I’ll meet you up at the front desk.” She nods at the door and hurries off in the other direction.

  “You and I are going to be best friends,” I say to him and walk to the front door, not making eye contact with any of the others. I feel like a traitor.

  “When I get to the desk, she hands me a massive form to fill out. It takes me several minutes, but I complete it all, fibbing about owning my own house. I use Liz’s address.

  When I give it back to her, she sanitizes the pen and clipboard and points at the wall. “We are giving half off the supplies.”

  “Right, guess I need the stuff.” I turn and walk to the wall of cat goods.

  I get everything and finally she fetches him with the carrier I have now purchased. She brings him out, carrying him gently. “And here you are. Thank you so much for adopting.”

  As she hands him to me, it becomes real. I’m getting a cat. He’s coming with me. I hold the handle and carry him to the door which the lady holds open. It takes me two trips to put it all in old Helen. When I’m done, I sit in the back seat and poke my finger through the cage.

  The little man’s bright green eyes fixate on mine.

  “It’s okay.” I wiggle my finger in the cage and wait for him to bring his face closer. He sniffs me, curious and maybe worried. I want so badly to pet him, but I know how cats are. You have to let them come to you. “You know,” I say, “When I met Rod, my ex, who you will never meet, I had just started online dating. It was new then. I’m old.” I make a face at him. “And my profile was ‘must love cats.’” I don’t tell him anything else. Like how I married a man who hated cats. And kids. And ruined my chances of having them for a long time.

  I don’t want him to judge me.

  He’ll have time for that later, during COVID when he sees how much wine I can burn through.

  It takes a while but Brent eventually comes out with a white fluffy polar bear-looking dog. Brent is smiling so wide he looks like a kid again. “Meet Bear,” he says proudly. “He’s a Maremma. He’s four. His owner got sick and couldn’t take care of him anymore. He’s been here for a month.”

  I kneel and let him come to me. He wags his tail and hurries over, nuzzling his face into my body as I scratch his neck. “He’s
so friendly. Aren’t you?” I ask the dog.

  He wiggles his whole body in excitement.

  “He’s so fluffy and cute.” I pet his handsome face.

  “They said he is not the norm for the breed. He’s a house dog and they’re meant to be farming dogs. Guarding animals. But he’s been inside on the sofa his whole life. He has no idea about farming. Which makes two of us.” Brent laughs and scratches the dog’s ears. Bear leans right into him, staring up into his eyes with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.

  “Thanks for the idea, Brent. This was exactly what I needed,” I say, not bothering to fight the tears in my eyes.

  He smiles wide, his stare is shiny too. “Me too. Maybe we could meet up for a drink and a cry sometime this summer when the world opens up again.”

  “I’d like that,” I agree. “But we should get these guys home. I’m really happy for you.”

  “You too. Take care of each other.” He surprises me a second time.

  “You guys too.” It’s awkward parting again with no hug or anything. He and I are survivors of the same wreckage. We should always hug and comfort one another. After the plague is over maybe.

  When I get into the car and start her up, I stare at Romeo in the back seat and feel like one piece of the puzzle my life has become has clicked into place.

  It’s the first time in a long time.

  The tears hit hard, not all sad. I glance at Romeo when we stop at a light. “I’m not normally this weepy.”

  He probably doesn’t believe me.

  I don’t blame him.

  Chapter 22

  April 3

  Six days of Liz chilling in my bed, demanding food and entertainment like Jabba the Hutt has me excited when she says she wants to go home. She misses James and snuggling. But I promised the poor man seven days. I don’t know what to do.

  I call him from the deck, standing in the cold where she can’t see me, and notice the weather’s gone frigid again.

  “Hey,” he answers, sounding like a new man.

  “Hi. Bad news. She wants to come home. I’ve tried stalling her by making my own ice cream but she’s pretty spicy,” I say, keeping my voice low. The wind is cold, and I swear to God and all that is holy, if this spring doesn’t warm up I’m going to lose it.

  “I did see the texts from her.” He chuckles into the phone, sounding so much lighter. “She can totally come home. Honestly, I miss her too. Even if she’s mean and emotional and demanding.”

  “Demanding isn’t the word for it. It’s abusive. I feel like Carrie Fisher as Leia. All week, I felt like I needed to put my hair into a long braid and sport a gold bikini. I think I have one you can borrow if you like.”

  “She won’t get the reference. She refuses to watch them, and she’ll think I’ve lost it,” he says. “But thanks so much for this. I got so much accomplished. Tell her I’ll pick her up in about an hour. I have a showing downtown and then I’ll swing by.”

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely. The kids are not coming home for weeks at this rate. Your mother is loving having them there. She said I am saving her marriage. If she had to be alone with your father much more, she was going to go insane.”

  “I’m sure he feels the same. So it’ll just be the two of you?”

  “Yeah, and if she doesn’t have the kids there asking her a thousand questions and jumping on the bed and going crazy, she should be manageable. But don’t give away that bikini just yet. I may need it.”

  “Okay.” He makes me laugh. The man is a saint. I hurry back inside and flush the toilet in the main bathroom and wash my hands. “You need anything?” I call to her.

  “The heat bag needs to be warmed up,” she answers back.

  “On it.” I hurry into the bedroom and grab it. Romeo lifts his head to acknowledge my presence momentarily.

  “You know what you’re missing?” she says before I turn to leave.

  “What?” God, please don’t say a man. I haven’t told her about the accidental sex I had with Samuel. I haven’t told anyone. I’m not certain how to feel about it. I’m pretty sure it was a one-time thing, evident by his lack of attempting to come over or talk to me since. Not that I’ve tried to see him either.

  “A TV in here. Watching TV on this laptop sucks.” She says it and turns back to the laptop, dismissing me.

  “Okay,” I agree though I have no intention of putting a TV in my bedroom.

  The microwave is heating the Magic Bag when a knock at the door startles me. I hurry over to peep through the hole. I step back, genuinely shocked and scared and unsure what to do.

  It’s Rod.

  He knocks again.

  Is he here for the separation papers?

  “Is someone here?” Liz shouts at the same moment Rod yells through the door that he knows I’m here. Of course I am. It’s COVID times.

  “Shit,” I whisper and then shout, “Just a delivery man. I’ll be right back.” I grab my key and fling open the door and step into the hallway before she hears him. She doesn’t get up much, but she will lose it and endanger the baby if she knows Rod’s here.

  “Hi,” he says. His voice is hoarse and he appears as though he’s been crying.

  I step to the side, leading him from the peephole so she can’t see if she does get up. “Why are you here?” The tone is exactly the one he deserves. He hasn’t spoken to me once since this happened.

  “I fucked up, Lil,” he mutters and wipes his face. He’s being too loud for the hallway.

  “Can you keep your voice down,” I mutter, glancing around.

  “I want you back. I don’t want a divorce. I miss you.” He tries to walk toward me.

  “What?” I practically jump away. “Are you insane? Your affair put me in the hospital, and you couldn’t even bother to check and make sure I was okay!” I blast him, nearly telling him my head still isn’t right.

  “I checked on you. I came to the hospital. You were drugged and sleeping. I came. No one told you?” he asks. “I saw your doctor. He said you were fine and that I wasn’t welcome there.”

  “What?” Now I’m the one being too loud. A door opens down the hallway and the head of an older lady pops out. She scowls and I wave. “Sorry. We’ll keep it down.”

  She growls something and closes the door.

  Rod parts his lips to speak but I cut him off, “You do not get to come here and talk to me now after all this time. I don’t care that you came to the hospital. That doctor was right, you weren’t welcome. Not then and not now. What I do care about is that you slept with Brent’s wife for our entire marriage.” My voice cracks with rage and I hate that I sound emotional. “You made a fool out of me and the life I thought we were sharing. And the worst part is I confronted you about Elaine and you gaslit me into thinking I was crazy. You told me I needed antidepressants.”

  “I’m so sorry. I love you, Lil.” He steps closer but I back up farther. “I never wanted you to find out. I want to be with you.”

  “That’s nice. You wanted your cake and to eat it too, huh? Listen, I don’t care. It’s a quarantine, showing up here without a mask is rude and disrespectful.” A bitter laugh slips from my lips as I warn him, “Liz is here. She’s huge and pregnant, totally at risk of getting sick. If she hears you, she’ll come out here and flip out. And she’s on bed rest. You have to go.” I point at the elevator at exactly the moment it opens.

  The doors reveal Sam. He sees me and smiles wide.

  My stomach drops.

  My eyes draw up to the ceiling and I whisper, “Really?”

  “That’s him!” Rod shouts and points. “That’s the doctor. He can tell you I came to see you at the hospital. Your family was packing the house and I showed up.”

  I back up to Sam who I at least know takes this plague seriously.

  Rod’s eyes narrow.

  “Just leave, Rod,” I say, watching him add things up in his head.

  “Holy fuck!” he shouts again. “Is that Sam Christianson, t
he Sam Christianson? Dr. Christianson?” His jaw drops. “You’ve been hung up on this guy for fifteen years, and I’m supposed to believe you moving in here with him is some kind of coincidence?”

  “That’s enough,” I warn him with my tone but he ignores me.

  “You fucking bitch! You were screwing him this whole time, weren’t you? But you let me take the fall. Made me the heavy.” He slaps himself in the chest.

  “She said that’s enough, Rod,” Sam’s tone warns too but he means it. He means something. “You should leave.”

  “No, you should leave! That’s my wife! You had your chance, you blew it.” Rod’s face is crimson and his hands are balled up. “You let your old man break up with her, you pussy.”

  I close my eyes and sigh, wishing I had never told him that.

  “And you, you slut—”

  Sam drops his bag in the hall and walks to Rod.

  “Oh, you’re a big man, huh? You wanna fight? Let’s go!” Rod swings and connects with the wall next to Sam who ducks and tackles him to the floor.

  “Stop! He’s probably got Covid.” I jump to life and grab Sam, but it’s like a flea tackling a cat. His fist comes up and I grab it, clinging to his arm with my whole body. “Please don’t. He’s not worth it.”

  Sam turns, he’s wild with rage.

  “He’s not worth it. And he’s drunk,” I say.

  Sam relents and stands while Rod’s still laughing on his back.

  The old lady pokes her head out again, shouting, “I’m calling the cops! Hooligans!”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Weaver. He’s leaving.” Sam offers a wave. He points at the elevator. “Now!”

  Rod’s like a turtle on his back but manages to get to his feet. It’s sloppy and at one point we see his underwear and some ass crack, though he appears to have lost about twenty pounds.

  He is sweaty and red-faced when he points a fat finger at Sam and me. “You two deserve each other. What a joke.” He storms past us, shouldering Sam in the arm on his way to the elevator. He punches the button for down, cussing when he hurts his hands.