Must Love Cats Page 10

  But if it isn’t and he overdoes, what then?

  “I think we’ll go to Hawaii next year. What do you think of that? Try something new instead of Cancun?” he asks as he takes another big bite and washes it down with the coffee.

  He doesn’t notice I don’t answer about Hawaii. I still haven’t swallowed the fucking cake.

  “The whole missing phone thing is bugging me. I know I was loaded, but I swear to God I brought it back to the room. Someone stole it. That puts a bad taste in my mouth, ya know? We’ve been loyal patrons there for years and that’s how they treat me.”

  He drinks more coffee until the clear mug is empty.

  I think I’m having a heart attack.

  “So I think Hawaii will be a nice change. The time difference will be annoying but not much different from Vegas.” He takes his last bite, and his plate is cleaned almost as well as his dinner plate.

  I get up to take his plate when he glances at me and blinks. “I drank the whole bottle of wine, didn’t I?”

  I nod, unable to answer with the cake still in my mouth.

  “It was good but I’m feeling it.”

  I grab the plates and hurry into the kitchen, spitting my mouthful into the garbage and rushing back out to him.

  “You want to go sit in your chair and watch the news?” I offer him my arm, trying to hide the fact I’m heaving my breaths.

  “I do.” He nods and tries to get up but he can’t. I lift, grunting under the weight of him. He’s an easy forty-five pounds overweight at two hundred and thirty. We stagger and I have to use strength I didn’t know I had to get him to the comfy chair. He flops in and mutters something I can’t comprehend.

  “I’m going to hell,” I whisper.

  He laughs.

  I position him comfortably and wait the ten minutes, pretending to clean the dining room, but I’m watching him. It takes almost no time before he’s passed out and making whimpering noises.

  I check his pulse but I can’t focus on counting.

  He snores and I relax.

  It worked.

  I reach for his phone with unsteady fingers, again pressing to unlock it with his thumb. He moans a bit as I leave.

  I open the garage door to Liz and a teenaged boy.

  We don’t speak. It’s precision. And stressful. And creepily exhilarating.

  Shit is wrong with me.

  I hand Rod’s phone and mine to the boy. He’s skinny, maybe sixteen, and has the cliché geeky appearance I expected when Liz told me her neighbor kid was a computer genius who knew how to clone phones. I don’t want to know how that conversation started. She’s so weird.

  He is with Rod’s phone and mine for eleven stress-filled minutes of me running into the living room and back out to the garage before the boy hands them back. He grins and holds out his hand. Liz places a hundred dollars in it, and he walks out of the garage, waving over his head. “Nice doing business with you, ladies.”

  “That was easy,” I whisper.

  “I know. Kids are way too damned smart.” She stares at the phone. “I can’t believe that turd installed the exact same app.”

  “I can.” I hurry back into the living room to check on Rod. He is peacefully resting. I don’t know if he’s fully sleeping or not.

  Then I hurry back to Liz who has opened his Facebook Messenger, a place I’ve checked before and found nothing—conversations with a bunch of guys and some old high school nonsense.

  There’s a message from someone I didn’t notice before at the top of the list of contacts this time. A Lenny with an anime picture for his profile.

  “That’s odd,” Liz says and opens the message and reads aloud, “Hi, Rod. Just wanted to let you know that the ring you ordered has been delivered and she loves it.” She clicks on the picture that follows.

  It’s of a woman’s hand with a stunning pale turquoise stone set in a white-gold band with diamond braiding around it. The ring is gorgeous and resembles something you would get from Etsy but this is far more expensive.

  “That’s her hand, isn’t it? This is her messaging him and talking about herself. They are sneaky.” Liz takes out her own phone and takes a picture. “To add to the file.”

  “Okay,” I say with a sigh. The anxiety is wearing off and the realization that I’ve drugged my husband to catch him in his affair feels as icky as it should. My desperation has come to a low place. Bottomed out.

  I almost wish I’d never heard of the app.

  I would have left weeks ago instead of staging this.

  But now I’m obsessed with outing them.

  “You’re sure you want those texts to go to your phone? I suspect the pictures and such will get bad,” she says as she closes out the apps and turns off the phone.

  “Yeah. I’ve prepared myself emotionally for this part. Brent had Elaine sign a prenuptial agreement. I’d like him to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

  “If she is caught cheating, she gets nothing? Damn, I didn’t know that. Brent’s going to love you for this,” Liz mutters.

  “Also, I want to be able to look Rod in the face and show him I caught him. Otherwise, all this fancy footwork was for nothing. I don’t know why, but I need him to know I am smarter than he thinks.” I scowl, not enjoying this part of the story as much. It’s petty and I should be better than this. My drugged husband in the living room would suggest I am not. “I want him to know he didn’t fool me or make me believe I’m crazy or needing meds.”

  “And your exit strategy? Obviously, beyond moving into our apartment.”

  “It’s done,” I confirm, noting my lack of emotion. “I’ve separated all finances, which wasn’t that hard since we don’t share money.”

  “Have you done an inventory, so you know what you want to take?” she asks.

  “Inventory is done. I have a list. I’ve reserved the truck I’m renting.”

  “Of course, you have.” She nods. “That’s my girl. When do you want to do it?”

  “I’m planning for two weeks from now,” I say with a wicked grin.

  She returns the same look. “We should go to the apartment tomorrow and start moving things in, stuff he won’t notice. Get a move on. Do it slowly for the two weeks.”

  “Okay,” I agree. “I have some boxes started. Odds and ends. I’ll bring those.”

  “Excellent.”

  The countdown is on.

  Chapter 14

  February 15

  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.

  “The cat room is this way.” The sweet lady who took all my information leads us to the left. 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. “Romeo is this way.” She hurries to the right and stops mid row. “He’s a wonderful boy.”

  “Oh hello,” Liz gushes. She’s on edge; pregnancy and animal shelters do not mix. I slide an arm around her side and pull her into me. “He is very handsome.”

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

  “Oh my God.” Liz presses her hands against her face. “Ohhh.” She leans in. “Hi, I’m your aunty.”

  The lady laughs.

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

  “Would you like to hold him?” the lady asks. “We can take him to the playroom.”

  “I do but he seems scared. Let’s just get him,” I reply, not breaking eye contact with him. The truth is I want to adopt every cat in this place. It’s a great shelter, and I know they’re cared for, but the idea of animals needing homes is killing me.

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

  “He’s so cute. But he’ll need a bath, right away.” Liz wrinkles her nose.

  “That will be a nice welcome for him.” I laugh and walk to the door. My eyes drift to the other cages, breaking my heart. Some of the cats come right to the door, pawing at us.

  “Oh my, look at this one.” Liz is done. She’s made eye contact with a white cat who is luring her with his paw. She takes it, holding it. “I need him. He’s like a white panther.”

  “Okay, you have a cat. You need to ask James before you make this decision.” I try to reason with her but the cat is calling to me too. I end up sticking my finger through the cage so he can rub against it. “Oh, he’s so sweet.”

  “I bet he’s super snuggly. One of those cats you can’t get off you,” Liz coos as he takes turns rubbing his face against us.

  “You girls coming?” The lady pokes her head through the door, holding the cat carrier.

  “Oh yes.” I steer my sister away. She’s crying when we get to the desk.

  “This is the saddest place I’ve been,” she says with a sniffle. “How do you work here and not take them home?” she asks as the lady fills out the adoption forms with the cat’s information.

  “I have six cats and four dogs and a snake and three rabbits.” She glances up at us. “I had to move out of the city limits to have them all.” She smiles wide. “It’s a struggle.”

  “No kidding.” I can imagine.

  “Anyway, we are giving half off the supplies.” She points at the wall.

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

  We get everything and finally she goes and fetches him with the carrier I brought in. 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 Liz holds open. She’s stuck staring at the cat. The lady grabs all my supplies and carries them to the SUV.

  “Have a good day,” the lady shouts at us as she walks back to the store. Liz waves.

  When we get into the SUV, I buckle myself carefully in the back seat and sit his carrier next to me.

  The little man’s bright-green eyes fixate on mine. Despite everything going on around us in the SUV, he stares directly. Liz is nattering on about something and driving erratically, as usual. The cat carrier slides toward me on the corners, making his ears go back.

  “It’s okay.” I stick 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.

  “Hello?” Liz answers her Bluetooth before I realize the phone has rung.

  “Hey, can you come back sooner? I have a showing. That couple from yesterday wants to put in an offer,” James says over the speakers.

  “Yeah, of course. We got the cat,” Liz sings, excited.

  “The black-and-white one?”

  “Yes.” She’s more worked up over it than I am. “And oh my God, there was this white one. I want him.”

  “Okay, we can talk about that later. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Fine.” Liz presses to end the call and speaks to me in the rearview mirror. “Are you going to be okay with me not coming in?”

  “Honestly, I’m fine.” I turn to the car carrier. “We’re fine.” I am a “we.” My heart swells.

  “Okay. The kids and I might come by tomorrow to see him if he’s calmed down enough.” She beams. “And if I’m persuasive enough I will be getting my own cat later.”

  “The kids will be so pumped if James says yes to the white cat. And thanks for the help. Sorry I’m such a mess.” I’ve never apologized so much in my life as I have this year. It’s a lot, even for a Canadian.

  “No problem.” Liz waves me off as she parks near the front door, in the visitor spot for the building. “I’ll text later and let you know how it goes with James.” She winks. “And either way, I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me pictures when he gets inside and starts sniffing and being weird.”

  “Will do.” I open the door and lift the large plastic carrier up and out carefully by the handle.

  “Is it too heavy?”

  “No, I’m okay,” I answer. “I’ll take this to the door and come back for the rest.”

  “Hey, let me get that! Doctor’s orders,” Sam calls out, running across the parking lot to me. He’s in his workout clothes again.

  “Oh, that’s okay.” I try to brush him off, but he takes the stack of cat supplies from the trunk.

  “Hi, Sam,” Liz calls from the driver seat.

  “Afternoon.” His eyes widen as he sees what’s inside the carrier I’m holding. “Oh hello, sir. Aren’t you handsome?” He glances at me. “Who’s this?”

  “He was named Romeo by the old lady who had him. I think we might keep the name.”

  “Maybe she had the hots for Leo.” He laughs but I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “Leo?” I ask, following him to the door. “Bye, Liz. Thanks again,” I call back to my sister as I fish out my keys.

  “Love you.” She gives me a worried look.

  “You never saw Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo and Juliet when you were a kid?” Sam asks.

  “Not ringing bells.” I open the door for him. Romeo meows.

  “Okay, I don’t know how to feel about that. I’m disappointed but also kinda sorry for you. I mean, you’ve missed a level of hotness that you won’t be able to appreciate now. You’re old.”

  “Wow.” I scoff and press the “up” button. “Old? You’re older. What does that make you? Ancient?”

  “Twenty-nine plus taxes, of course.” He winks.

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes at him.

  “How’s the head?”

  “Fine,” I say but hold back the misery I still have with light sensitivity and headaches. I don’t want him to worry. I Googled and it said this was common. “How are you?”

  “Better now that I know this handsome guy is going to be next door. Look at him.” He gushes over the cat who is now rubbing against the cage and trying to woo Sam.

  “I meant with the Covid thing.”

  “Not awesome. We’re prepping for it to hit here. When it does, I have an idea of how this will look. I was in school in Ontario right after SARS. We were definitely trained for outbreaks. This one’s scary though.” He realizes he’s terrifying me and stops. “But it’s Nova Scotia. We’re spread out with a small population and can easily cut off from the outside world.” He tries to smooth it over, but it doesn’t work.

  The elevator opens and I hurry out and down the hall to unlock my door and hold it open for him.

  “Thanks,” he says.

  I walk in and place the cat carrier on the floor and open the cage, stepping back and leaving enough room for Romeo to climb out if he wants to.

  “Where do you want the litter?” Sam asks as he fills the container. He’s clearly experienced with cats.

  “Laundry room, please.” I drop to my knees carefully and sit, waiting for him to come out.

  Sam comes back and sits next to me.

  “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” I say quietly.

  “I want my prize,” he says, making my heart skip a beat and my stomach clench.

  “Prize?” I can’t ask it and look at him, so I stare at the cage opening where the cat is sniffing.

  “And here it comes.” He pats his pant leg as the cat moves carefully from the carrier. He smells the wood floors before walking right to Sam.

  “What the heck? Traitor.” I gasp.

  They don’t notice me. The cat rubs and starts purring as Sam scratches his head and ears. “You smell like the vet’s office. I think a cat bath might be in order.”

  “Looks like someone is partial to men,” I accuse th
e cat.

  “What did we always say in college?” Sam gives a smirk. “Bros before hos?”

  “You’re a ho.” My comeback is not awesome, but he flusters me.

  “I will neither deny nor confirm that allegation.” He turns back to the cat, grinning away.

  “Please, I’ve seen the revolving door of ladies.”

  “Paying attention to my door, huh?” He nudges me and my stomach tightens with the contact. It’s like old times.

  “No,” I lie.

  Sam continues petting the cat but I sit quietly, exactly as my grandma showed me with her cat, a mean old stray named Tramp who had one ear from being shot at when he was in a chicken coop at the neighbors’.

  It takes him a second, but the cat eventually notices I’m not trying to get his affection. He makes his way over, sniffing me before deciding to go for the full rub. My heart swells again as I run my fingers through his thick fur.

  He climbs into my lap and rests his feet on my leg, gazing up at me. Tears flood my eyes, but I don’t want Sam to see so I stare down at the cat, not blinking.

  The cat offers me a closed-eye smile, content in my lap. “You are a Romeo,” I whisper, scratching behind his ears.

  I don’t know his story.

  He doesn’t know mine.

  And it doesn’t matter.

  That’s not how love works with cats.

  You can be two abandoned beings and not need to discuss it.

  It’s nice.

  “Well, I have to get to work. Thanks for letting me pet your cat,” Sam says with a chuckle and gets up, dusting his pants off.

  “See ya,” I say.

  “Bye, Romeo. See you later.” He reaches down, invading my space, and pets the cat in my lap with his huge hand. “See ya, Lil.” He touches my shoulder gently and leaves.

  I can feel heat on that spot for far too long.

  My old feelings for Sam were never dealt with. They were locked away and now they’re escaping from the cell. They have plans that I can’t allow.