Page 83 of You're so Bad

“What are you doing down here?” I ask. “You wanted to sleep in a less comfortable bed?” I don’t want to sound needy, but I hear it in my voice.

He runs a hand up my back. “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“We need to pick up Bean,” I say, making no move to get up. It feels…nice.

“Bean’s a creature of the night like we are,” he says, running a hand down my back and settling it on my butt. “She’ll be asleep.”

I notice he doesn’t say anything about bringing her to another shelter or trying to adopt her out. I shouldn’t push him, but I do a lot of things I shouldn’t. “You’re going to keep her, aren’t you? I think what happened at the shelter yesterday was what Josie the Great would call a sign.”

He makes an amused sound. “Not a sign. More like you and your grandmother setting me up.”

I gasp and turn in his arms. “How’d you know?”

He grins and bops me on the nose. “Caught you, Tiger. I figured it out this morning when I was trying to get back to sleep. I Googled the shelter’s policy for taking back pets. Turns out it’s a no-kill shelter. I’m pretty proud of you and Constance, actually, you conned me good.”

“We both think you want her.” I place my palms on his bare chest. “We think she’s meant to be with you.”

“I’ll try.” He stares at me as he says it, and maybe I’m just believing what I want to believe, but it sounds like maybe he’s talking about me too.

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint my girls,” he adds with a glimmer in his eyes.

* * *

When we getto the house, my neighbor Mrs. Applebaum is outside in her Adirondack chair, very pointedly watching us.

I give Leonard a significant look. “That her?” he asks under his breath, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Yes. Doesn’t she look like a low scorer?”

He waves to her before I can grab his hand. “Howdy, over there. It’s a mighty fine day, is it not?”

She pouts, her mouth turning down. “I would say not, young man. The humidity is sixty-five percent.”

“You’re right about that,” he says, “but you know what? I’d still give it a ten out of ten. Then again,I’ma generous scorer.”

I bite back a laugh as she buries her head in the book she brought out with her. A prop, because she spends most of her time sitting out there and people watching.

Taking Leonard’s hand, I lead him to the door but drop it so I can unlock and open it.

I figured Bean would react to our presence the way cats usually do—like she can’t tell the difference between Leonard and the mailman, but she immediately runs up and does figure eights around his legs. The look of delight on his face as he crouches to pet her is something I’d like to capture. My hands itch for my clay and tools, and for the second time in weeks, I don’t want to make only hideous and misshapen things.

There’s a feeling of thank goodness in my heart, because it’s been so long since I’ve made something I love, or the kind of monster that I’d like to be my friend.

“Well, hello, sugar,” Leonard tells Bean in a soft, warm voice. “It’s good to see you too.”

“I’m going to assume you’re talking to me,” my grandmother says, prompting him to laugh. She’s holding Bertie, who’s squirming to get away, probably because he wants to nip at Leonard’s heels the way he usually does.

“You know I wasn’t, you old boot.”

She gives him a wicked smile. “Just for that, I’m going to put you to work.”

And she means it.

We spend the afternoon helping her move furniture around the house. Nana has decided feng shuing her bedroom was the best thing that ever happened to our house, and now the rest of the place has to be done to match. Since she supposedly has back pain, she’s the director and we’re her puppets.

Leonard’s a good sport, but he doesn’t touch me around Nana, so I’m guessing he doesn’t want her to know what we’re doing.

Whatever it is we’re doing.

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