Page 97 of Second Edition
“And we’re going out tonight after group,” Everett said.
“As in, a date,” June said, grinning. “Our fourth now.”
“My dears, that’s such a delightful update,” Lorrie said.
“We know it’s probably not a great idea for us to be in the same group,” June said. “But I feel ready to move forward.”
“As do I,” Everett said. “Finally.”
“That’s wonderful,” Ellen said. “But I would encourage you to look into other groups, should you feel the need for support.”
“We will,” June said. “Thank you.”
Our time was up by then. We all gathered our things, then filed up the stairs and out into the summer evening.
Everett and June were holding hands as they crossed the parking lot. Lorrie headed to her car, knitting bag clutched to her side. Mateo lingered for a moment, tapping my shoulder.
“Hey, I had a thought about something besides words,” Mateo said. “What if you brought her a gift that was dependent on time. Like a physical thing that tells her—I’m here to stay.”
“It’s a good idea,” I said. “I’ll think about it.”
We shook hands and headed to our cars. Before I started the ignition, I noticed text notifications on my phone. Hoping it was Delphine, I pulled it up. It was a text from Theo telling me Poe had showed up at the store, looking a little beat up, and could I come take a look at him?
Poe? Back at my store? How was that possible? It was a good five miles to Delphine’s house from the bookstore.
Delphine must have dropped him off. That was the only explanation. A cat, especially Poe, didn’t walk all the way into town on his own. He would find that terribly undignified and also a lot of exercise.
I guess he was stuck with me, even if his heart belonged to Delphine.
When I gotto the store, Theo was just putting the closed sign up in the window.
“Hey, man,” Theo said. “The cat’s back, dude. And he doesn’t look so hot.”
“When did you first see him? And where is he now?”
“He zipped in here about twenty minutes ago on the heels of a customer. Just darted in like a bolt of lightning, then sprinted past me and into your office. And dude, his paws were wet. With sweat. I’ve never seen a cat sweat.”
Poe sweating? What was happening? Was the world about to end?
“I gave him some of my tuna sandwich,” Theo said. “But he turned his nose up at it. Might be the capers. Cats don’t like capers, maybe?”
“That sounds like him,” I said dryly. “Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure. And now it’s time for old Theo to take a few tokes and hit the drum set, you know. I’ve got to get some practice in before my audition.”
I let that go, not really in the mood to hear about Theo’s latest big plan, and headed to my office.
Poe was behind my desk. In my chair. He’d arranged himself so that only his head showed above the desktop, ears up, eyes half-lidded, like a small, orange Supreme Court justice waiting to condemn me.
“Hello, Poe.”
His tail flicked, smacking against the seat of the chair, reminding me of a furry gavel.
I came around the desk to pick him up, but he was having none of it. He flattened himself out and became forty pounds instead of sixteen. So, instead, I knelt on the floor in front of my furry nemesis and checked his paws. Pads worn rough. Road dust. A burr up under one elbow, two more in his britches. They were no longer damp, but I could see traces of paw prints on the floor and all over my desk.
“You ran all the way, here? Is that what I’m seeing?”
“Meow.” Elongated to make his point. I wasn’t entirely sure what that might be. I sank down into the guest chair. My own guest chair, in my own office, across the desk from a cat who had the audacity to return to me. The person he didn’t even like.
