house. Well, see you around the neighborhood.”
“Sure. Thanks again.”
He starts to leave, then stops and turns back to me. “Oh, by the way, how are the kittens?”
“They’re doing fine. Fat and happy.”
He gives me a smile. “Good. Most people would have just dumped them at a shelter. It’s great that you didn’t abandon those little guys.”
Annddd … cue the guilt.
He heads back toward the bar while I turn back to my friends.
Rory locks eyes with me. “So … that clear things up a bit for ya?”
Kelly looks up from her textbook as I get home. “Have a nice time?”
“Yeah. Any problems?”
“Nope. They’re fed and cleaned up. All asleep but one.”
Suddenly I pick up the pace toward the box. “Something wrong?”
Kelly smiles. “Nah. I think your favorite is waiting up for you.”
I look at the box and see three kittens curled up together in a ball while the tortoiseshell sits in front of them. It starts to meow the moment it sees me and paws at the air, wanting to be picked up. “You okay, little guy?” I crouch down and pick up the kitten, resting it on my chest. It keeps talking, then begins to purr.
“I think he just missed you. He’s quiet when you’re not here.”
“He does demand more attention than the others.”
“I don’t think that’s it. He’s not that way with me. I think the tortoiseshell is a one-person cat, and you’re his person.”
I’m on my third cup of coffee at my usual corner table in A.J.’s family deli. The Saturday morning rush finally ends and she moves out from behind the counter to join me, sliding an Italian pastry in front of me as she sits with her own cup of java. “You get any sleep last night?”
I shake my head. “Hell no. Couldn’t stop thinking about my big decision. Kittens versus Air Force One.”
“So the wheels are still spinnin’?”
“Yeah.”
“What direction are they going?”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Okay. What’s the story on the hot cop?”
“Rory already told you.”
“So, you gonna call him?”
“Huh?”
“I thought he gave you his card?”
“Yeah.” I reach in my purse and hand it to her.
She looks at it and rolls her eyes. “Marino. It figures.”
“What?”
“You guys get all the good paisans.”
“What do you mean, you guys?”
“You Irish girls. Italian men can’t resist you. They see the red hair and the freckles and it’s game over for the rest of us. You’re like their damn kryptonite.”
“Oh, stop it. You have men beating down your door.”
“All named Smith and Jones. I can’t ever find a good guy with a vowel at the end of his last name. So, you gonna call this cop, or what? You obviously like him.”
“You know I don’t call men.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did we miss the Sadie Hawkins dance? For God’s sake, it’s not nineteen-fifty. You can ask a guy out.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to do that.”
“You pick up the phone and say, Hey, I think you’re smoking hot and wanna jump your bones.”
“Very funny. Seriously, I’ve never asked a guy out for a date. I’m not sure I could do it. It’s a little scary for me.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re a network reporter, you take no prisoners with major politicians, you go on live television in front of millions of people, and you’re afraid to pick up the phone and call a guy?”
“The microphone and camera give me license to do all those things on TV. Without it … well … it’s just me.”
“Okay, so here’s what you do. Use a back door method of getting a date. You call the guy and tell him you want to thank him for saving you at the bar by cooking him dinner.”
“That might chase him away. You know I can burn a salad.”
“I’ll give you some simple recipes. Or how about this … I can simply box up some cannolis and you can drop by the police station to thank him personally. The precinct is right down the street from your house.”
I shake my head not wanting to deal with this right now. “I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah, right. Coward.” She starts clucking like a chicken.
I shove the pastry in my mouth, take a big bite and talk through the crumbs. “Leave me alone.”
“Of course, if you take the Air Force One thing, you can’t ask him out. He thinks a lot of you because you’re taking care of those kittens. How would it look if you ditched them?”
“I think ditched is a rather strong term.”
“You like abandoned better?”
“I don’t believe this is happening. I’m considering turning down the dream job of a lifetime because of a bunch of cats and a guy who might like me. And I’m actually conflicted about it.”
She flashes a big smile. “Yep. And I must tell you, this is fun to watch.”
“I’m glad you find my current situation so amusing.”
The bell above the door rings announcing a customer. A little blonde girl carrying a bunch of papers who is trailed by her mother moves toward our table. “Excuse me … I need some help.”
A.J. turns to the girl, who is maybe eight years old. “What can I do for you, sweetie?”
She hands each of us a sheet of paper. “Would it be okay if I put this in your window?”
What’s on the paper tugs at my heart.
LOST CAT
Our beloved cat, Snowflake, got out of the house and is missing. She’s an indoor cat and not used to taking care of
