Cat Trick

Owen’s gray ears twitched. I could see the tension in his small furry body.

Hercules looked back over his shoulder at Roma. Then he took a cautious bite. The second bite wasn’t nearly as restrained. The third bite was actually more like shoving his face in the small pile. He sighed with happiness.

Roma smiled. “Hercules doesn’t seem to think they need salt,” she said to Maggie. She looked at Owen and held out the box. “Would you like to try them?”

His expression was pained. On the one hand, there was a box of fish-flavored cat food. On the other hand, the hand holding the box belonged to Roma, the woman who poked him with needles and tried to cut off his access to sausage panzerotti and frozen yogurt.

“Here,” Maggie said. “Try this one.”

She held out the little star she’d palmed in her hand and then let it drop to the floor in front of Owen. He looked uncertainly at it, sniffed it and then gave it a careful lick. It disappeared from the floor faster than if I’d sucked it up with the vacuum.

Roma dumped a few more bits onto the floor in front of him.

“I think your friend just got two paws-up,” I said to her, setting the salad bowl on the table.

Roma pulled out a chair and sat down as I filled the plates, handing one to her and another to Maggie, before setting my own on the table.

Mags took a bite, gave me a blissful smile and waved her fork approvingly at me.

“This is good,” Roma said after her first taste. “Could I have the recipe?”

“Absolutely,” I said. Owen had come to sit next to Maggie’s chair, the way he always did when she had dinner with us. Hercules was next to the refrigerator, washing his paws. Maybe I’d gotten lucky and the little cat food drama had made Roma forget about me kissing Marcus.

She turned to Maggie, fork poised over her plate. “So how was your week?” she asked. “I know Kathleen was kissing Marcus. What have you been doing?”

Or maybe it hadn’t.

For a moment Maggie was as still as a stone statue. Then she squealed, flinging both hands in the air like she was about to do a victory dance in the end zone. “Finally,” she exclaimed. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to ask Rebecca if there were any kissing potions in those old notebooks of her mother’s.” She peered at me across the table. “When did you kiss him? And why didn’t you tell me?” Her gaze flicked over to Roma. “And how did you find out?”

Roma shrugged. “I asked. She turned the cutest shade of red.” She gestured to me with her fork. “Just the way she’s doing now. It was a dead giveaway.”

Maggie nodded. “I know. She used to do that all the time whenever I’d say Marcus was just perfect for her. That’s how I knew she liked him, no matter what she said.”

“I can hear the two of you, you know,” I said.

Mags nodded. “We know.” She speared a couple of potatoes, popped them in her mouth and then leaned her elbows on the table, propping her chin on her interlaced fingers. “So?” she said after she’d chewed and swallowed.

“Marcus kissed me. I kissed him back. That’s it,” I said. “He didn’t throw me over his shoulder and swing back to his tree house like Tarzan.” It didn’t seem like a good time to mention that we’d argued this morning. Again. Maybe I would invite him over to try Roma’s wine and this time I’d kiss him.

“I’ve never thought that sounded very comfortable,” Roma said, wrinkling her nose, not unlike the way Owen did when he was inspecting his food. “Hanging upside down over someone’s back and whipping through the trees—I think I just might get motion sickness.” She made a backward motion with her hands. “I like a nice dip.”

“Mmm, yeah.” Maggie nodded slowly. “But it’s very easy to overextend one’s back, and there is more than half a foot difference in height between Kathleen and Marcus.”

The two of them stared at me. “You’re wasting your time,” I said. “I don’t kiss and tell.” They exchanged shrugs and picked up their forks again. “But if I did,” I continued, “I’d say, ‘Wow!’”

They both howled with laughter.

“Now why don’t we talk about your love life?” I said to Maggie.

“Sure,” she said, “except I don’t have one.”

“What do you call Liam?” I asked.

“Cute as a bug’s ear?” Roma said. Maggie and I both looked at her. “Just because I have Eddie doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate cute.”

Maggie nodded. “Liam is a sweet man, but all we are is friends.” She squared her shoulders and held her head high. “I want what you and Marcus have.”

I frowned across the table. “What do we have?”