“He’s been out on the streets a long time but he might have a fighting chance,” Eric said. “We’ll give it all we have.”
Once I’d thanked Eric profusely, and the kitchen was back in good order, I called Mom on Skype and positioned the computer and Miss Gloria on the couch as my live studio audience. Earlier, I’d gotten the idea for trying to teach Evinrude some of the Cat Man’s tricks when cleaning out the cavity of tonight’s roasting chicken. We had borrowed a wooden stool from Miss Gloria’s best pal up the dock, Mrs. Dubisson, and fashioned a large wire loop out of a flimsy coat hanger. We propped up the loop with soup cans in the middle of the room.
“Are you going to set the hoop on fire like the Cat Man does?” Mom asked.
“Not the first time out. He’s got a lot more experience with this stuff.” I laughed and scooped up Evinrude, placed him on the stool, and set a small Pyrex bowl of liver on the other side of the loop. Evinrude sat on the stool, tail twitching.
“So far so good,” I said.
Miss Gloria clapped with enthusiasm. “He’s better looking than Dominique’s cats. A few of them have some awfully ratty-looking fur. But not Evinrude. He’s a real star.”
“He hasn’t done anything yet,” I said, walking across the room to tap the bowl of liver. “Come on, kitty.”
Miss Gloria’s black cat, Sparky, sprang off the couch and bolted over to gobble the entrails.
“This is harder than it looks.” I snatched up the little cat and handed him off to Miss Gloria, then replenished the treats. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
Evinrude twitched his whiskers and blinked. Then he hopped off the stool and strolled around the wire loop to sniff at the liver. He grabbed the treat and trotted off toward the back deck, tail held high. Both my mother and Miss Gloria broke into peals of laughter.
The seaman’s bell outside Miss Gloria’s front door chimed, signaling the arrival of a visitor. “I’ll get it,” I told her.
Wally’s familiar boxy shape was framed in the doorway. “Am I coming at a bad time?” He sniffed the air, now perfumed with the scent of roasting chicken and potatoes.
“Not a problem,” I said, feeling a pang of apprehension. Since when was it good news for your boss to show up at your home unannounced?
“Who is it?” asked my mom from the computer screen.
“I don’t mean to intrude,” he said. “I’m sure you’re busy—”
“Come on in,” I said, opening the screen door and stepping aside so he could make his way into the living area.
“This is my boss, Wally,” I explained to my housemate. “And this is Miss Gloria. And my mom’s on the computer.”
Wally waved to them both. “A pleasure to meet you ladies.”
“We’re just about to watch Randy Thompson’s guest appearance on Emeril,” Miss Gloria twittered. “Come watch with us? It’s not so often we get male visitors.”
“Thanks a lot,” I mouthed behind his back.
“Actually, I just came to check on you,” said Wally, turning to me. “You scared us half to death. Take a few more days off if you need them.”
“Thanks, but thumbs-up,” I said. “I’ll be in tomorrow morning.” Suddenly I was acutely aware of my yoga leggings and ratty KEY WEST—ONE HUMAN FAMILY T-shirt.
“Come on,” Miss Gloria coaxed. “Hayley’s roasting a chicken. A couple of little ladies can’t possibly do it justice. She’s made scalloped potatoes, too. With leeks and cheese and tons of butter. And a chocolate cake is going into the oven shortly.” She patted her belly. “I’ve gained five pounds since Hayley moved in.”
“That’s the absolute worst part of joining them by Skype,” said my mother. “I don’t get a thing to eat.”
“We were afraid we’d get hungry watching Randy on Emeril,” I said. “I may have gotten carried away.”
Wally licked his lips and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looked younger than he did at the office, wearing a faded T-shirt and jeans with holes where the knees used to be. Hog’s breath is better than no breath at all, his T-shirt slogan read.
“If you really don’t mind,” he said. “It smells amazing.”
“Settled!” said Miss Gloria. “We love company. We don’t get that much of it. Last man we had in here was the tarot card reader—and he’s not of the right persuasion, if you take my meaning.”
Embarrassment flooded me from toes to the roots of my hair. I was saved from any further comments from my roommate as the theme song from Oliver! tinkled out from the TV screen. A teaser about Randy aka Victoria announced the show and then the program broke for an early commercial.