“Flower?”
“My grandmother’s cat. I inherited her with the house.”
“As in as delicate as a…?”
“No. As in my grandmother had an obsession with the movieBambi, and the cat’s the right color. I’m only thankful I didn’t have black hair, or I shudder to imagine if I would have been named after a skunk instead.”
“Forget dinner at my place. I want to meet this animal. They won’t let us have animals in our building. They never have.”
After tucking my phone under my chin, I hook an arm under the cat. Several irritated hisses from both of us later, I ask, “I forget. How long have you lived there?”
There’s a delicate pause before Carys answers, “I was brought home from the hospital to this home. Ward and I grew up here. I can’t imagine selling the place where I grew up. It must be the same for you in many ways.”
I spin around the tiny kitchen I’m standing in that Grandma was so proud to have redone with butcher-block countertops a few years ago. I pull up a mental image of the orange walls of the sewing room I haven’t gotten around to changing, the yellow spare bedroom, the kelly green office. And I realize I only have to change it if I want to. “Yes and no. Nothing is forcing me to let go of the memories, nor is anyone requiring me to keep them. But I’m not certain I’d be able to let go of this home.” Leaning forward, I stare into the dark, but I know there’s a private yard that has a hot tub—something I insisted on buying to help my grandmother after her hip surgery. There’s an exquisite garden and patio made of stonework. And depending on if the trees are leafing, a view of nearby Tonetta Lake. “Maybe you and David can bring Ben out one day to come see the house,” I offer.
“We’d love to see it. You know our schedule better than we do. Let me know when works best for you,” Carys accepts immediately, warming something I didn’t realize was cold deep inside of me.
I hear a cry on her end of the line. “Uh-oh. That sounds like a meltdown in the making.”
She lets out a gusty sigh. “This could be anything from a slip in the tub to he forgot a specific toy.”
“Poor Ben.”
“You mean ‘Poor David.’ He gets cranky when he forgets SpongeBob to play with.” There’s obvious laughter in her voice. “I’d better let you go to rescue him.”
“See you Monday.”
“Bye, Angie.”
We each disconnect, and for the first time since my grandmother’s death, I feel like doing something we did together every Friday night. I put the can of soup back in the cabinet and pick the phone back up. I dial a number I have memorized as Grandma used to make me call it from the time I was nineteen until she passed when I was twenty-six.
I don’t know why I stopped calling.
“Pizza Palace, how can I help you?”
“Yes, I’d like to place an order for delivery.”
Like she understands the words, Flower takes off to wait in the bay window near the front door. And I smile as a little piece of my heart settles back into place. Even if tonight it’s being handled by cheese, garlic, and oregano.
Ten
Angela
XMedia’s newest board member, Michael Clarke, was spotted out with his latest date. She has red hair. Yawn. In other news, Less than 2% of the world’s population have red hair and blue eyes.
— Jacques Yves, Celebrity Blogger
“You and your organizational skills. I thank God every day for it,” Carys declares.
“It’s certainly saved our asses on more than one occasion,” David agrees.
“It was nothing. I was just doing my job,” I protest.
We’re in our weekly meeting where we go over any open cases and high-profile clients to make certain as a team we’re all on the same page. Whereas normally this meeting is fairly routine, today we’ve actually got quite a bit to go over.
“I disagree. If you hadn’t noted where you saved the email containing the verbal agreement with the record label, they’d be out millions right now.” Ward smiles warmly at me. Turning away from me, he addresses Carys. “So what do we do now about the fact we had a notarized copy and the label had a different version?”
“Well, with the audio, if they try to go to court, I’ll eviscerate them,” Carys declares confidently.