Must Love Cats

by Brown, Tara

  “Fuck him,” Shawnee accidentally spills out some of her inner fire and blurts, “Fuck them both. I hope they die of syphilis.”

  We all laugh at the insane statement.

  “What am I missing?” Liz comes out with a sparkling water for me and Shawnee.

  “Nothing!” we say as a group.

  And that is the truth.

  Rod and Elaine are nothing.

  Not to any of us.

  The night moves on and we say goodbye. It’s not the same as before. I don’t hug anyone or give kisses to the baby or kids. They wave through the window, blowing me kisses.

  On the drive, I call Brent and put him on speakerphone, as Helen has decided to never allow her Bluetooth to work again. I have to admit, I’m glad she sacrificed it working to sell Rod’s ass out.

  “Did you see?” Brent shouts into the phone before I can greet him. “A fucking baby?”

  “Yeah, a baby. And an engagement and they’re a pair of liars who deserve each other. You and I have no business worrying what they’re up to.” I’m firm with him. It’s new but we both need it. “How’s Bear?” I ask, completely disregarding them.

  He takes a second to get his breath. “You’re so right. Fuck them. Bear’s amazing. Probably the best friend I ever had. He’s been giving me a bit of side-eye all evening since I saw that picture though. How’s Romeo?” He still sounds angry but this is progress.

  “Good. He’s a fluffy love. Maybe fluffier than he’s supposed to be.” I laugh. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “No. I was sort of seeing a lady from up the road. But she wanted to get serious and I—”

  “I know.” I sigh. “There’s a guy I dated before Rod—”

  “Sam?” he asks.

  “Yeah. You remember me mentioning him?”

  “No, I remember Rod mentioning him. He was so jealous of him, oh man. He was livid.”

  “There’s some irony,” I say with a chuckle. “Anyway, we run into each other a lot and he’s asked me out but I pretended I couldn’t. I’m struggling with letting my guard down. Scares the shit out of me if I’m being honest.” The lonely confession, particularly to Brent who isn’t one of my closest friends, is huge for me.

  “But you’re right, we have to. We have to let ourselves be open to love again, Lil.” His voice breaks and not because of Helen’s poor reception. “And you were right when you said we can’t let them change us.”

  I can’t remember when I said that, but it rings in me with something extra tonight.

  “Maybe I’ll call Sarah, the lady down the road, and see if she wants to do a walk with the dogs tomorrow. She has an Irish wolfhound named Guinness. He’s bloody huge. He and Bear get on like a house on fire though. And they’re both big enough that you don’t have to worry about one hurting the other.” He sounds better.

  “Must be like watching dinosaurs wrestle.”

  “Exactly. They’re a hundred and fifty pounds each.” He chuckles, considerably lighter in tone.

  “Keep me posted on that. And if you want to do a social-distance walk, I’m in.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks, Lil, for talking me off the ledge. I appreciate it.”

  “Always. Night, Brent.”

  “Night.”

  The call ends and I find myself in a similar spirit. I’m lighter.

  I drive to the underground parking and hurry upstairs to turn on some music and force my cat to dance. A Christmas song slips in and I decide tomorrow I am decorating. November first.

  It’s basically sacrilegious to do it before Remembrance Day but it’s been such a crazy time.

  I’m musing over where to put the tree when a knock at the door draws my attention. I hurry over to find a freshly showered Sam grinning at me.

  “Hi,” he says, holding a large envelope. “I think this belongs to you.”

  I stare at it and flinch. It’s my underwear subscription. “Yes. Thanks.” I take it, blushing because he was holding it. What am I five?

  “Okay,” he says awkwardly. Romeo comes bursting through my feet and attacks Sam’s legs. “Man, he’s so affectionate.” He scoops up the cat and kisses his nose. Romeo doesn’t seem to mind when he does it. “Hi,” Sam says, smiling at him as Romeo rubs his face all over him.

  My cat adores this man.

  If I let myself, I could probably adore him too.

  The thought is terrifying.

  But the words of wisdom I gave to Brent flit about my mind and create something resembling bravery. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you.” I open the door wide so he can come in.

  “Oh yeah?” He walks in and puts Romeo down on the floor.

  I almost say it, the thing I need to clear the air between us. Once and for all.

  But his eyes meet mine, dark pools of a haunted past. And I panic. I point to the French doors to the deck, specifically the one I never open. “I’m going to decorate tomorrow for the holidays, and I need to know if it would be weird to put my Christmas tree here, in front of this door? I never open it.”

  “It would be weird if you put your Christmas tree up at all.” He laughs at the idea, his tone lightening. “It’s not even December.”

  “Well, I am. So chuckle all you want but trust me, when you see how festive it is, you’ll be—jealous,” I say in an attempt to be funny but it’s lame.

  “I’m already jealous of this place.” He gets a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It has Romeo.” He points at the cat who is still rubbing against him.

  My instinct is to close off. Make a joke.

  But that isn’t me. That is me after Rod. The younger version of me with Sam, all those years ago, was more open to love and relationships. She was cautious, but she believed in love.

  The me I want to be is here now and I have to let her shine. But first, we have to get rid of the weight on my shoulders. The lie from so long ago.

  My heart whispers to be brave.

  So I take a deep breath and say, “There’s something I have to tell you. You’re going to be furious with me. And that’s okay. But I need it out of the way. Because I want to have dinner with you. And the reason I said no before is I’m scared of you finding something out.”

  “That was a lot of building up. You’re scaring me.”

  I want to chicken out but I don’t. I blurt, “When we dated before, your dad didn’t approve of me.”

  “I’m aware of his thoughts on the matter.” His tone is ice.

  “He came to my apartment and he lied to me about some things. And he was your dad and a respected doctor so I believed him. Then he gave me an ultimatum. You could have me or your family. But not both. So I walked away, thinking it was the right choice and that I was sparing you.” It’s not the whole truth but it’s the important parts I need off my chest. “I received every single voicemail and email. I ignored them, believing I was making the right decision.” The words leave me, like an exorcism. I’m free of it.

  But he is heartbroken. I see it all over his face. “I knew it,” he seethes, speaking through his clenched jaw.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you and tell you what happened and that I chose for you without giving you the option. I was young and stupid and easily tricked by a man who wanted to control your life.” I stare at him, expecting wrath. He’s about to leave and never ask me out for dinner again. And I have to make peace with that.

  But his gaze fixes on mine. He takes a journey in his head, besieged with something. He does appear angry for a moment but it fades.

  Finally, he speaks, “I don’t care. Well, obviously I care but we can’t change it. And my dad isn’t part of my life for a reason.” He swallows hard, struggling. “I knew it was him. That he had something to do with it. We were perfect and I introduced you to them and that was it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeat.

  “I confronted him and he refused to admit anything, but I never stopped believing he played a part in that.” He steps closer, taking my hand in h
is and running his thumb over my palm. “The same way I never stopped thinking about you. Thank you for telling me.”

  I might not have given him the whole truth about his dad, but the weight of it all is lifted. In that moment, I give myself permission to begin anew. Promising that every day I will mend more of the scar on my heart. Instead of letting it rule me.

  I will not be afraid of love. Or live half a life.

  Our eyes lock. His hand draws heat around mine. I shiver from it.

  The moment lasts a lifetime.

  Neither of us moves or speaks.

  Until Sam attacks.

  He wraps his arms around me.

  Sam’s lips are on mine, kissing me like his life depends on it. His hands slide up my back, almost massaging.

  A desperate moan escapes me, igniting him further.

  Hands are tugging at clothes, mine and his. I’m sweaty with nerves but beyond caring.

  I can’t get enough of the feel of his hands on my skin and his lips against mine. His body is hard, firm and muscled. He’s thicker now than the last time I touched him.

  It’s a blur of staggering and disrobing, and suddenly we’re lying on my bed and he’s over me, hovering with the exact same expression on his face as when he was younger.

  I flash to fifteen years ago, feeling the same as I did then.

  He smiles before he kisses me again.

  The moment stays with me as we race past simple glances and subtle smiles in the hallway. The fire we’ve created is burning hot, and I don’t recall his lovemaking being this good fifteen years ago.

  In an animalistic way we purge ourselves in a first round. It’s desperation as a result of built-up angst. And maybe quarantine. And maybe the shittiest year in recent history.

  When it’s finished, we don’t speak. I walk to the shower and suddenly he’s there too.

  I take a minute to pay homage to the body he has built. It’s perfect. Cut and hard, rippling with muscle. And weirdly, he does the same. His beautiful hands cup and caress, helping me with soaping up and cleaning off the sweaty mess we have both become.

  But touching and remembering leads to more kissing.

  There are no words spoken, which is heavier than I imagined it would be.

  But the sex is so fantastic that I refuse to let any of the unfinished and unspoken things in our lives interrupt me living a fantasy I’ve had for far too long.

  Chapter 40

  November 15

  Unknown location

  I’m in a waiting room. It’s white and bright.

  I think I’m waiting for something. Someone?

  But who?

  It’s quiet and still.

  The light is weirdly bright.

  I glance about, expecting someone.

  But it isn’t time.

  They’re not here yet.

  Chapter 41

  November 15

  I’m mid wheeze as I jog my way around Point Pleasant Park when the phone rings.

  “Hello?” I answer without checking the call.

  “Hey, it’s Rod.”

  I trip on nothing and catch myself on a bench, certain I’m hallucinating. “Who?”

  “Lil?”

  “Rod?” I gag on the name. “What do you want?” I ask, annoyed that he’s interrupting my run. Or that he breathes air. Or he exists.

  “Where are you?” he asks as if he has the right.

  “Out for a jog. What do you want?” I repeat and begin walking so I’m not as winded.

  “You don’t jog—”

  “Rod, you don’t know me anymore or what I do. Now why are you calling?” I hold back none of my annoyance.

  “Right, anyway. I wanted to split the RRSPs and other investments. I know we said we would wait until the divorce is finalized, but I think we should do it now. Get it over with.”

  A cruel smile spreads across my lips. “I’m in no hurry. I think we can wait the few months to do it.” I know exactly why he’s making this call. He’s broke. James told me Rod overextended himself on the house. It was Elaine’s choice.

  “Lil, can we just do it—?” He’s close to begging. “Please?” The word is hard for him to choke out.

  “I mean, I guess. I can meet you at the bank if you have to do it.” I lay it on thick. I could care less when we do the stupid investments.

  “You’re amazing. Is the twenty-third too soon? We could meet at one; I have an appointment set up.”

  “Isn’t that next Monday? Unlike you, I have to be in the office.” Of course he makes the appointment for his schedule without considering mine.

  “Can you take your lunch break then? The bank is walking distance.”

  I stop and close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. I’m practically chanting that he is not allowed to get under my skin. It takes everything in me to concede, “Fine. I’ll meet you there at one.”

  “You’re the bes—”

  I end the call and start running again.

  My feet hit the pavement harder than my fitness level is capable of. By the time I get home, I’m a sweaty mess but I finally get why Liz runs. I feel good. Genuinely happy. And after getting a phone call from Rod, I should be upset. Annoyed. This is therapeutic.

  “It’s working,” I mutter to myself as I step into the elevator. The doors close and in the shiny metal I smile at my reflection. My face is bright red. My hair looks like I’ve been electrocuted at least once today. But there is a glint in my eyes. A spark I haven’t seen in years. A realization that I was miserable in my marriage for a long time and it wasn’t just Rod.

  I refuse to take fifty percent of the blame, even though in relationships everything is fifty-fifty. Even so, I can say comfortably that I own my unhappiness. Just as I now am responsible for my life being the opposite. I am genuinely happy.

  As is Romeo when I get into the apartment. He comes running over, rubbing himself mercilessly on me. I lift him up and kiss his nose. He still hates it. He purrs the moment I place him on the back of the sofa and rub his back and tail.

  Sam knocks on the door with his signature thumping. My stomach still flutters when I hear it. We answer, me smiling and Romeo purring and rubbing against his legs.

  “Hi.” He smiles at me but lowers to scratch Romeo’s head and neck. He picks him up and kisses his nose. His eyes flicker to mine. “Did you just go for a run?”

  “Yeah.” I step aside so he can come in. Something he’s been doing for two weeks. We accidentally skipped dinner and had sex and now we’re in a weird place. It’s like dating but without discussing dating.

  “How was it?”

  “Interesting,” I reply, not bothering him with the stupidity of my ex and his needs. “But I need to grab a shower. I’ll be right back.” I hurry into my room and speed through my ablutions. I don’t bother doing my hair and instead slide a hair tie on my wrist for when it starts to dry naturally into the fluffy hell it becomes.

  “Dress warm,” he shouts from the living room when I’m in my bedroom again. “I have a surprise.”

  “Okay.” I hurry into the closet and drag on a sweater and some smaller socks to wear with my boots. My sweater is baggier than it was last winter.

  Sizing myself up in the mirror, I can’t tell if I’ve lost weight or just inches or if maybe I’m hallucinating and put the sweater away after wearing and stretching it out. I’ve been fooled by that before.

  I don’t have a scale anymore. I left it with Rod. So I take a look in my closet for something that won’t lie. Can’t stretch. Hates me.

  The shimmery flapper dress in the back catches my attention.

  That damned dress.

  Nodding furiously, I strip to nothing but my underwear and pull it from the back of the closet. I unzip and drag it on roughly, still angry at the dress for the last time it betrayed me by acting like a few pounds was the end of the world.

  But this time it zips up like a dream, so easily I nearly dislocate my shoulder getting it all the way to the top.<
br />
  I hurry back into my room and turn, taking it all in. The underwear lines aren’t great so I haul them off and take another spin.

  The dress fits perfectly. It’s body hugging and magical.

  I have lost inches!

  Excitedly, I shake my butt, making the tassels quiver.

  “While I have always been a fan of sequins that isn’t what I was expecting when I said dress warm,” Sam says from the doorway where he and the cat are watching me.

  Humiliation and the loss of words to explain how this happened, hit at exactly the same moment. I press my lips together and point at the closet. “I’ll just be a minute.” I bend and pick up my underwear from the floor.

  “No, please, I was enjoying the show. Continue.” He tilts his head and grins.

  I take a breath and confess, “I was checking to see if I’ve lost weight. This dress is like getting into an unforgiving sausage casing.”

  “It looks great.” His eyes travel my body. “Accentuates the curves. I’ve always had a thing for The Great Gatsby look. In the same way I’ve always had a thing for you.” He walks to me, taking me in his arms. We kiss and I try to enjoy it but the awkward feeling of being in a costume is all-consuming.

  “Just give me two seconds.” I wriggle free and hurry into the closet to change. Like Superman, I’m back out in a flash in jeans and a sweater with boots in hand.

  “That’s probably more appropriate, but can we keep the flapper dress for later?” he asks cheekily.

  “Only if you have a proper costume to complement it.” I slide my arm into his and pull him from the room. “What is this surprise?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” He furrows his brow as I pull on my boots. Noticing they’re just as tight. Clearly, I haven’t lost calf inches.

  He insists we take his SUV. His bias against Helen is insulting.

  My stomach tenses as I wonder where we’re going. It’s Covid times again with cases popping up more frequently now. People don’t just go out.

  He drives down by the water and turns up a street I haven’t been on in ages but the name is familiar. He pulls into the driveway of an old house with a “for sale” sign in the yard. James is here, mask and all.