Page 59 of Juicy Pickle

His head turns ever so slowly to pierce me with his gaze. “You have family. So do I.” He hesitates a beat, then says, “And of course you have Maxwell.”

This gets my attention. “Maxwell? I mean, he’s the love of my life, but I don’t think he will even notice I’m gone as long as he’s fed and has a warm place to sleep.”

“Really?” Rhett seems flabbergasted.

Geez, you’d think he never heard of a cat before. Maxwell, well, he is what you would affectionately callaloof. And if you cross him, he can be a terror.

But to Rhett, I say, “He’s been like that since the beginning. Over time, I thought he’d get more affectionate, but it never happened. He won’t even get on my bed.”

Now Rhett sits bolt upright. “He doesn’t sleep with you?”

I’m not so sure why Rhett is stuck on this point. “I mean, every once in a while, I’ll be sitting on the couch, and he’ll get on the other end of it. But that tends to be about as close as he gets to me.”

Rhett stares at me in something that looks like shock. “And this is okay with you?”

I shrug. “I don’t think there’s much I can do to change it. It’s just the way he is.”

Rhett tears his gaze from me and stares into the fire. “I can’t imagine living that way.” He seems deep in thought. Agitated, too, judging by the way his thumb rapidly taps his thigh.

I don’t get it. “Rhett? Why are you so surprised at this? Did you think I would have perfect pets or something? A lot of cats are like Maxwell.”

His head snaps to me. “Maxwell is your cat?”

“Yeah. I’ve had him for six years.”

His entire demeanor changes. He rocks backward, laughing into the sky. “Maxwell is a cat!”

“Did you think he was a dog? I had a picture of him on my desk.”

“I remember the cat picture. But I didn’t know that was Maxwell.”

“Who did you think Maxwell was?”

Rhett won’t look at me.

“Wait, did you think Maxwell was my boyfriend?” My laugh is loud against the snapping of the fire. “You did! You thought my cat was a boyfriend who wouldn’t sleep with me.”

We both lose it. Rhett falls back in the sand. I double over, my giggles erupting into a full-on belly laugh.

We’re like this for several long minutes until my laughter dissolves into hiccups. I hold my breath to get rid of the hiccups, then we start to sober up.

I wipe tears from my eyes. “Did you think Maxwell was my boyfriend the whole time I worked for you?”

He straightens a corner of the towel. “Pretty much. You first mentioned him the second week you worked for me.”

Everything in my belly goes still. That’s about when he started acting weird. Surely there wasn’t a connection. Why would him thinking that I had a boyfriend make him act so standoffish and harsh?

But then, Viola’s face rises in my vision, saying, “I think he has a thing for you.”

I’m not laughing now. “Rhett, did you ever have a conversation with Viola about me and Maxwell?”

He leans over to grab a log, stripping the wet bark from the outside before throwing it onto the fire.

“I don’t talk to Viola much. I got the impression I should keep my distance.”

That is a wise assessment. At least he’s aware of her potential treachery.

“So, you two never discussed it?” I really need to know.

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