Awakenings (18 page)

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Try to formulate a plan of action. Take care of them. And keep an eye on Seth. I can’t tell you how he did it yet, but my gut tells me he’s the reason everything went to hell.”

2

Seth entered the apartment with all the finesse of a drunken Marx brother. The wooden planks he carried caught on the door frame, and he slammed into them hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. He startled the young girl who sat on the living room window seat vigilantly watching for her dad. She looked exhausted.

“Sorry,” Seth said to the girl.

Everyone had an assigned task to kill time until Cal returned. Seth’s job was to raid the apartment being renovated upstairs for tools and materials to patch the bedroom windows that had been damaged during the fight. Cat was on the phone, telling her construction contractors to take the day off.

Lelani quietly came out of the girl’s bedroom with the dog wrapped in bedsheets. A limp paw stuck out of one corner, an unfortunate oversight. The corners of the young girl’s mouth drew down and began to tremble. She fell into another fit and buried her teary eyes on her forearm against the sill.

“She was engrossed with the view from the window only a moment ago,” Lelani whispered. “I checked before coming out.”

“My bad,” Seth said.

Lelani hurried out of the apartment.

Seth looked toward Cat to tell her the girl was upset again.

“A family emergency, yes,” Cat said into the phone. She was spinning around the kitchen, putting away candles and incense and doing other chores as she talked. “A death in the family,” she continued. “And tomorrow, too. No, I’m not sure how long. You will definitely get paid for both days. No … I’ll have to talk to my husband about that. I’ll have to … Look, I don’t know the answer to that right now.”

The girl cried so hard she quivered. She soon developed the hiccups. Seth tried to break into Cat’s phone conversation, but she was in her “zone” and the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“I just don’t know at the moment,” Cat continued on the phone. “I’ll call you as soon as I do. Yes, I know many people want to hire you, Mr. Pellegrini—you were highly recommended by the Kramers, but…”

Seth dropped the planks by the couch and gingerly approached the girl.

“Hi,” he said. He was no better at starting a conversation with a five-year-old than a twenty-five-year-old. He realized how much of a crutch the porn gig had been.

The girl looked up. Her expression said
You’re not my daddy.

Seth already thought this was a bad idea right after “hi,” but he couldn’t abandon her now.

“I’m Seth. I’m a—
friend
—of your dad.” Seth spotted a box of Kleenex on the end table and pulled a few tissues for her. “Here, for your eyes,” he said with a smile.

She hiccupped, took the tissues, and honked a glob of snot into the pile. Then she held it out for Seth to take back.

“Uh—why don’t you hold on to it,” he said. “Just in case. So your name is … Britney?”

She gave him a quizzical look, the type with a pout. “Brianna.”
Hiccup.
“Are you
sure
you’re a friend of my daddy’s? He tells all of his friends about me.
They
know my name.”

“Maybe ‘
friend
’ wasn’t the right word. Anyway, I noticed you were sad. Thought maybe you’d like some company.”

Bree shook her head.

“You’re sad because of your pet,” Seth continued.

Bree nodded.

“I have a pet, too. She never saved my life, though.”

“Maggie loved me.”
Hiccup.
“The bad man hurt her because she tried to help me.”

“That’s what dogs do. They protect the people they love.”

“But, I miss her.” Brianna started to tear up again. “I didn’t want her to die.”

Seth pulled out a fresh tissue for her.

“Maggie was a good dog,” he said. “I know that she’s in heaven right now looking down at you and she’s very happy that you’re okay. I think God gives dogs a special cookie when they save their masters. Sets them up in a doghouse as big as a barn; makes them the alpha dog in their pack in heaven.”

“What’s an alfafa dog?”

“The boss. The big dog who takes care of all the rest.”

Bree nodded. She liked the sound of that.

“What kind of dog do you have?” she asked.

“I have a cat. Her name is Hoshi. It means ‘star’ in Japanese. She sits on my head in the mornings because I won’t turn off the alarm clock. When bad men come after me, she runs under the bed and meows at them, but very angrily.”

Bree smiled.

“It’s true,” Seth said with mock sincerity. “She says things—in cat language of course—like, ‘Leave the food guy alone, you ugly wonk. He hasn’t filled my dish yet.’ Or, ‘Get away from the food guy, you repulsive mooch, my litter needs cleaning.’”

“I’d like to meet Hoshi,” Bree said.

“Sure. I’ll have you up one day.”

It took Seth a moment to realize there was nowhere to have her up to—he was homeless. He forced a smile. The talk of Hoshi chastising men who were after him also reminded Seth that Carmine wanted his kneecaps for wall trophies. Besides the freak show, there were normal everyday humans out for his head as well. He wasn’t sure which set of goons were worse.

“Plumbers are the worst,” Cat said, slamming the phone into its cradle.

“Excuse me?” Seth jumped.

“Plumbers. To get a good one, you have to book them months in advance and then you have a prima donna with butt crack to deal with.”

“Right.”

“Is the…” Cat made hand motions to signify the dog being out of the child’s room.

“Yeah. Lelani took care of it.”

“Poor thing.”

“She was a brave dog.”

“No, I mean Bree,” she said pointing.

The girl was asleep on the window seat. Cat took the tissues from her hand and covered her baby with a quilt.

“Seth,
please
fix my bedroom window. Then I can put her down in there.”

“Yeah.” He picked up the planks and resumed his march toward the back.

3

Cat watched from her kitchen window as Lelani buried the dog under the small plot of grass behind the building. The patio umbrella was strategically positioned over her to block the centaur from the only other building with a bird’s-eye view of the backyard. She was a beautiful woman in a turtleneck knit, with the ass end of a horse where her legs should have been. Her tail, which was also scarlet, was neatly banded by three gold ringlets one foot apart, forming spheres of hair with a tassel at the end. The fence and bushes around the backyard were high, but still, Cat wanted the horse-girl back inside as soon as possible. Things were already hard enough to explain without the neighbors spotting Lelani.

Seth made several phone attempts to get his photography career back. Someone named Carmine, with a cruel voice that the little plastic earpiece could not contain, made it clear that Seth would not only never work again, but that there were men combing the five boroughs ready to serve him his knees on a platter
plus
a court summons for breach of contract. To take his mind off his troubles, Seth tried boarding up the bedroom windows. He did everything badly.

Cat finished calling the contractors, then vacuumed for an hour, picking up glass and other debris from the fight. Bree was sleeping off the aftermath of her outbursts over Maggie’s death. They all needed a time-out from life until everything was back to normal.
Would anything ever be normal again?
Cat wondered. How would this genie go back into the bottle? In all the years she pondered her husband’s origin, nothing like this had crossed her mind. Was Cal really a knight, just like in the storybooks? A member of his country’s nobility, heir to lands and a fortune? Did that make her Lady MacDonnell? She chuckled at the notion. No one ever mistook her for a lady. She soaped up a sponge and began washing the dishes.

When Cat was a little girl, she beat up boys, climbed trees, and spat farther than a camel. Her older sister Vanessa dressed in Barbie pink and pretended the decrepit jungle gym in the backyard was a castle tower from which a mysterious prince would rescue her. Vanessa ended up with Vinnie, an electrician from Fort Lee and her first child six months after the wedding. Cat allowed herself a second chuckle. Turned out
she
was getting the castle. Life was full of little ironies.

“Cut that out,” she whispered to herself. “There’s no castle. You need a reality check.”

The monotony of the dishes caused her mind to wander, and she considered the lives of Cal’s mother and sisters. Would it be like the movies—long gowns for the ladies and chivalry coming from every sword-wielding dork? A million rules of etiquette for every function: how to curtsy, present oneself to those of higher rank, where to sit at a table, how to hold in a fart and scratch one’s ass properly. Cat did not know the first thing about being an aristocrat, nor did she want to. Cat avoided caviar, ballroom dancing, and hobnobbing with the pretentiously dull. She struggled to remember which side of the plate the utensils were set on when she had her own guests for dinner. She couldn’t imagine putting Bree through all that.

“Ow!” she yelped, nicking herself on a chipped glass. “Serves me right for thinking nonsense.”

She rinsed the cut in cold water and wrapped a paper towel around it. She went to the bathroom to find a Band-Aid and spotted the pregnancy test dissolving in a puddle in the tub. She’d forgotten it in the excitement. The result was ruined. Cat felt ready to vomit, but she didn’t know if it was the cut, morning sickness, or the realization that Cal now had a family she’d have to meet—a family who had never gotten the chance to approve of her—that lived in a castle, had its own crest, traced its lineage for generations and had never heard of the Equal Rights Amendment.
My God,
she realized.
They’re Republicans!

“Excuse me, my lady…”

Lelani startled her. For a four-footed being, the horse-girl was surprisingly silent. Cat was also jumpier than usual. It would be some time before her nerves settled.

“Please, don’t call me that,” Cat said.

“How should I address you?”

“‘Cat’ is fine.”

Lelani looked uncomfortable with the notion but pushed on regardless. “I was curious as to the duration of the captain’s interrogation?”

“A few hours. It doesn’t get more serious than a dead cop. He has to explain how and why he left the scene, without implicating you or Seth. He has to convince them that he was dazed and injured. That he got the jump on his assailants, but was too injured to pursue or radio for help. Otherwise there’ll be disciplinary action.”

“I see.”

Cat found the centaur hard to read; she was so guarded with her emotions. She thought the girl might be judging Cal. “He’ll bend the truth to its limits,” Cat added, defensively. “It’s not in his nature to lie outright.”

“I know,” the centaur responded.

Again, Cat couldn’t make heads or tails of Lelani’s enigmatic responses. She went to the kitchen and put a pot of water on the burner. This time Cat could hear soft clopping on the hardwood as Lelani followed her. For a large creature, the centaur was amazingly graceful navigating the cramped living space of bipedal humans. She wasn’t as big as an actual horse, but big enough to have caused Cat some concern when Cal left her behind in their home. She had yet to knock over a lamp or break a piece of furniture. Cat wished she could say the same for the other one, as something, probably porcelain, just hit the ground and shattered in her bedroom. A weak, “Sorry!” emanated from the back of her apartment.

“Some tea?” Cat asked Lelani.

“Yes, thank you,” the centaur responded. This time, Cat noted a smidgeon of pleasure in her response.

The horse-girl—horse-
woman
—was very polite. For some reason, Cat expected someone who was half horse to behave more like an animal. Was it even housebroken? Where would she do her business? Cat took out a few days’ worth of old newspaper from the recycling bin and placed it on the kitchen table, just in case. There were a million questions Cat wanted to ask but didn’t know how to begin. She prepared the tea and brought it into the living room on a tray with biscuits. She sat on the couch while Lelani lowered herself on the floor next to the coffee table. Folding her legs beneath her, the centaur still came up to eye level. If Cat concentrated on the woman’s chest and up, she looked like any other gorgeous redhead in an olive-green turtleneck knit.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Cat asked.

“Is what dangerous, my lady?”

“Squatting like that. I seldom see horses lie down, unless they’re sick. Something to do with twisting their intestines or delicate leg bones. Do you sleep standing?”

“I am not a horse,” Lelani responded, with a slight edge.

“Oh,” Cat said. She scratched the
house-training
question from her list. “I’ve never met a centaur before.”

“Clearly.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“My intelligence quotient measures in the top two percent of my class. I attend one of the finest schools in the Twelve Kingdoms. My family can trace its lineage for a thousand years.”

Cal was right. These things were very proud—and very defensive.

Cat was off to a bad start. This being, strange as it was, had saved her family and restored her husband’s past to him. Lelani was important to Cal. Whatever her trepidation about the future, Cat would try to remain on friendly terms with the centaur.

“Does your family also live in Aandor?” Cat asked. “If you don’t mind my asking?”

“My tribe lives in the Blue Forest. We are hunter-gatherers. Archduke Athelstan has granted the forest safe haven from hunting and logging by humans. Centaurs patrol the single road that runs through it and keep it free of highwaymen. Traders breathe easily once their caravans reach the Blue. The road to Aandor City is the safest and most profitable in the Twelve Kingdoms.”

“Is that where all centaurs live?”

“It is now. We numbered in the millions, once.”