A Cat Called Cupid: A Romantic Comedy Novella (10 page)
Read A Cat Called Cupid: A Romantic Comedy Novella Online
Authors: Mazy Morris
Then, as the fuzzy pink glow of renewed infatuation began to wear off
, and Craig and Ann gradually regained an interest in their nearest and dearest.
“What are we going to do about Flavia?” Ann asked one evening as the four of
us—Craig, Bella, My Lady and me—sat on the top step of the staircase and watched the dusk descend on Mrs. Jackson’s newly repotted geraniums. There had been some ugliness between Mrs. Jackson and the occupants of 12B in which Fred—by virtue of his highly visible digging campaign during the police raid—had been unjustly charged with breaking the flower pots. I maintain that Flavia should have fessed up to falling on them, but My Lady smoothed over the situation by buying a stack of ceramic ware and leaving it anonymously on Mrs. Jackson’s doormat. It was in this way that Fred got both the blame and the credit; Flavia never came into it.
Which brings me back to the subject of Flavia and My Lady’s concern for her welfare.
“What do you mean, ‘What are we going to do about Flavia?’” Craig asked.
“I mean she’s lonely. What are we going to do about it?”
“Why should we have to do anything about it?”
“It’s not a matter of
have
to. It’s a matter of want to.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Besides, I feel like I owe her a lot for getting us back together.”
Actually, it was yours truly who
deserved as much credit as anyone, but as I’ve said before, no good can come from letting them divine the extent of one’s intelligence, so I feigned an intense interest in a ladybug which had escaped from the sanctuary of the geraniums.
“What about Saul?” Craig suggested. “You remember Saul. I introduced you to him in the grocery store the other day. We used to play rac
quetball together. ”
“He’s kind of quiet,” Ann protested.
“Well, Flavia can talk enough for both of them.”
But it turned out
that Flavia didn’t need any assistance with her love life after all. When My Lady called her up to invite her for dinner—with the ulterior motive of introducing her to Saul, of course—Flavia surprised everyone by asking if it would be all right if she brought somebody. My Lady immediately quizzed her on the identity of this mystery man, but Flavia was cagey. Ann had met him once before, was all Flavia would say.
On the evening of the dinner party, Bella and I took up front row seats on the top of the bookcase. We wanted to a good look at
the poor soul Flavia was about to drag in. We didn’t have to wait long; Flavia was one of the first to arrive.
She entered the apartment in a cloud of rose-scented perfume and
with a bad case of the giddy giggles.
“
I’d like you to meet someone,” she announced, clinging to the arm of her date. “You may or may not remember him, but you’ve like totally met before.”
Craig and Ann just stood there, with blank looks on their faces, but I remembered him. It was Officer Al, my closet companion from the afternoon
Cat Hater met his fate at the hands of justice.
“Come on!” said Flavia. “Don’t you like remember him at all?”
Poor Officer Al looked embarrassed. I’m not sure he remembered Craig and Ann, either. I decided to diffuse the awkward situation by jumping down and greeting our guest. I hurried over and rubbed around Al’s ankles, purring loudly.
“The policeman!” said Craig, getting it at last.
“Yes,” said Flavia. “We ran into each other again a few days after—you know, and we realized we were like totally into each other and—”
It did appear that
Flavia was telling the truth. They were totally into each other. Pheromones don’t lie.
I couldn’t have been happier for them both. Flavia is a good egg
, really—if you can get past the baby talk—and you can’t go wrong with a man who takes time out of his busy workday to fraternize with cats.
Later on, after the guests had departed and Craig was clearing the table while Ann loaded the dishwasher, it became apparent that they shared my sentiment.
“Al’s great!” Ann said as she ejected me from the countertop. I was just trying to be helpful and prevent waste by licking up a bit of sour cream sauce which had been left on one of the plates, but she didn’t see it that way, apparently.
“I like him, too,” said Craig.
“You know, we’re both really very lucky.”
“We?”
“Flavia and me.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“What makes you two so lucky?”
“We both, purely by chance, found men who were perfect for us.”
“So I’m perfect, am I?”
It’s the lawyer in him. He can’t help it, I guess. Fortunately, My Lady didn’t hold his gloating against him.
“You
are perfect for me,” she said. “You’re smart and sexy and kind. Even Cupid likes you, and he’s never liked any of my other boyfriends.”
All this sweet-talk soon escalated to kissing, and kissing led to a retreat to the bedroom. I let them go.
I went over to the couch where Bella lay dozing and nudged her awake with my nose. She drowsily began to wash my ears. I closed my eyes, and let out a contented sigh.
Things couldn’t have worked out more perfectly if I’d planned them.
The End
