Rusty nailed(86)

My grin froze as I looked back and forth between them. Simon was sheepishly looking down at the ground. But he was also blushing. And smiling. Big.

“Nursery?” I asked through the frozen grin.

“Of course! A cute young couple like you two, I’m sure it’s something you’re thinking about. I know you career girls these days like to wait, but you can’t wait too long, you know. I know it’s not for me to say, and heaven knows I sometimes stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong, but I—”

I must have made the sucking-on-a-sour-pickle face, because somewhere around “heaven knows” and “stick my nose in,” Ruth began to look at me strangely.

I turned without a word and walked toward the house, hearing Simon apologizing to Ruth over the noise that was filling my ears. A chain saw? Tile saw? Tiles—ha!

Inside, I looked around at the chaos. At the three painters on ladders on the first floor. At the two carpenters carpenting in the kitchen. And at the random guy who was sitting on my window seat with his feet up on my dining room table (tarp-covered box), reading a newspaper.

“Excuse me? Can I help you?” I asked over the din.

“You Caroline?”

“I am.”

Just then I heard the front door slam and an angry Simon stood in the doorway. “I can’t believe how rude you just were to Ruth!”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“What the hell, Caroline. Have you lost your mind?”

“You seriously want to do this now?” I asked, gesturing to the obviously listening workmen and the guy with his feet up. “Who are you, anyway?” I asked.

“I’m Fred, here to do your closets.”

“Okay, Fred. Let’s start in the den.” I gestured for him to follow me, holding up my other hand toward Simon to tell him to do exactly the opposite. As I started to open the door, Simon shouted, “Not the den! Clive’s in there!”

Too late. Like a feline torpedo, he darted out and ran for the kitchen. I grabbed for him as he sped by, but he wiggled through my fingertips and continued on.

We’d been trying to keep him away from the commotion during the day, letting him out only at night. Usually he stayed in the “sewing room” upstairs, as that room wasn’t getting much work done.

“Why the hell was he in the den?” I yelled, trying to follow Clive. He was startled by all the strange men in the house, and was doing his best dodgeball around all of them.

“They were working on the floors upstairs today, so I brought him down. That’s why the door was closed,” Simon yelled back, diving for him and crashing into a painter. “Everybody fan out,” he said, and just like that, Clive now had six strange men chasing him.

“Stop it! Everyone stop, you’re scaring him!” I shouted over everyone else shouting at Clive.

Fred made a grab for him, and Clive spun out Tokyo Drift style, ran up a ladder, down a ladder, and made for the dining room.

Toward the window seat.

Toward the rusty casement window that never shut tightly.

And went

right

through it.

He was there, and then he was gone.

I got there just in time to see his tail disappearing through the garden wall, into the twilight.





chapter twenty-one


I walked the streets of Sausalito until 2:00 a.m. that night. Jillian and Benjamin came over, so did Mimi and Ryan. Sophia was there. And if Neil hadn’t been out of town covering a big game, he’d have been there too.

Armed with flashlights, catnip, and Pounce, we scoured the neighborhood. I went through every backyard I could, crashed through bushes, climbed the secret stairs, and scurried down every pathway in the hills above the seaside town. I could hear my friends calling for him all around, shaking their Pounce cans.

Clive was long gone.

I knew everyone would have stayed out there all night, but when the fog got too thick to see through, and everyone’s teeth were chattering, we called off the search. Mimi had stayed back at the house in case he returned, and while she waited she created a Lost flyer with a picture of Clive and my phone number. We’d print them in the morning and hang them up all over town.

I said good night to everyone, thanked them again for their help, and closed the door. And turned to Simon.

“I’m exhausted, so I’m going to head up to bed. I’ll be up early tomorrow; I want to get a jump start on getting those flyers up.”

“I’ll come up with you,” he said, starting to turn out the lights.

“Leave that one on,” I said when he reached for the dining room light. I could hear the plastic sheeting blowing back and forth over the hole in the window. I’d slammed it shut so hard earlier that I’d broken a loose pane. He nodded and I went upstairs.