****
Zeke's heart leaped into his throat. No, not after all this shit! He lunged toward the counter, but came short of either of his objectives. Someone else snagged the flexi-leash before the dog made good on its escape, but no one caught the cat's owner, who looked like a frail older guy. He went down with a crash and a thump, followed by a definite pain sound.
A second later, Zeke's knees hit the floor beside the man. He fumbled with untangling the leash from around the guy's legs, aware that the receptionist was kneeling by the old man's head, talking to him. Zeke couldn't hear what they were saying through the rush of his pulse in his ears. At least the old guy was talking. So no one was dead yet in the clusterfuck of Zeke's day. He slid the loop of the extension leash down over the guy's blue socks and very shiny black shoes, and held onto it so it didn't snap back too hard into the reel.
The motherly woman who'd got hold of the leash nodded her thanks and he let it play back slowly, as she locked it and hauled the dog back in the door. Zeke kept his attention on her, because he didn't want to know how bad the old guy was. She chewed out the dog's owner for not having a head collar on the dog and not bothering to train it before it got elephant-sized, in surprisingly salty language for a motherly woman. But when she was done, Zeke had no choice but to look at the poor old guy who wouldn't be there on the floor if only Zeke had been paying more attention to his driving, instead of thinking about finally finding a friend willing to hang out with him...
Lisa's hand gripped his shoulder with her surprising strength. “Come on and sit down. You look like crap.”
“Well I feel like shit!” Zeke let himself be guided up and over to a chair. “Now the cat and the owner are both hurt.”
“Well it's not your fault,” Lisa said tartly. “Either one. That cat had a death wish.”
“Seriously? You don't think I should have paid more attention or managed to swerve or something? Because I was talking to you, although I'm pretty sure my eyes were on the road, but I might have looked away for a second.”
Lisa gave him a thwap on the back of the head that reminded Zeke forcibly of his older brother. “Not. Your. Fault. Cut it out.”
“Okay.” Zeke subsided, although he couldn't hold back a groan when the receptionist and hastily-called-up-front vet decided an ambulance was in order for the owner.
The old man was pretty tough. He insisted on sitting up against the counter, and gave Lisa a little smile despite the icepack the receptionist was holding to his head, and the broken arm the vet had wrapped in padding. “Hey, girl, never a dull moment around me.”
“I guess not.”
“Do me a favor?”
Zeke said, “Sure! Anything!” before Lisa could even open her mouth. He felt like he owed this guy a lifetime of favors.
The man turned that little smile on him, but said to Lisa, “In my front right pocket you'll find my house keys. My neighbor on the right in 2038, Mrs. Colby, has fed my cats for me occasionally. But she doesn't have my new door key. Could you get them out and I'll tell you which one to give her? Ask her to go take care of the cats tonight and probably in the morning too?”
Zeke felt awful. “You think you won't be able to go home tonight? Are you really hurt? I'm so, so sorry.”
“It wasn't your dog. And I'm sure I'll be fine. But I know doctors. At my age, any little bump and they want to keep me overnight to see if I break out into purple spots or something.”
The vet said, “Since you live alone they should keep you for observation with a head injury. I'm sure between my insurance and Mr. Borden's liability for King's behavior, any costs will be covered.”
The cat's owner rubbed his head and slumped a bit. “I have insurance too. But the damned cats eat only canned diet, thanks to you, Mr. Veterinarian. And if they don't get fed every twelve hours, they'll be very cranky.”
“We can do that,” Zeke said eagerly. “Glad to. I swear, you can trust us with the key and we'll take it right to your neighbor, and if you tell us exactly what she needs to do we'll pass along the message. I'll write it down. You can tell me every detail. I'll make sure she gets it all. And here, I'll have the reception lady copy my ID, okay? So you know who we are...”
This time it was the veterinarian who came and put a hand on his shoulder. “Take a breath. It'll be okay. If you're volunteering, and Mr. Delacourt trusts you, it could be good to have you run his errand. I'm a bit behind here and we're all busy.” He glanced at the owner. “I've seen this kid in here with his mom and their dog, so I have his address and all. But Claude, if you don't want to give your key to these two, I can find someone else to run your errand after we close.”
“No. That's fine. The girl obviously likes cats. And the boy seems like the responsible sort. Although I will take that copy of his ID.”
A minute later the ambulance pulled up out front. Lisa said, “I've got this,” so Zeke just sat in his chair and watched and took deep breaths while there were discussions and keys found and notes written and the EMTs did their thing. Eventually the owner was wheeled out on a gurney, and Lisa came over to him. “Got it. Let's go.”
Zeke stood, but went up to the counter instead. “The cat will be okay, right? Whatever it costs? I'll get the money somehow.”
“Don't worry. Mr. Delacourt left his credit card number. She'll be fine. You can take the question of money up with him directly.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Outside in the lot, Lisa peered up at his face and then held out her hand. “Keys.”
“What?”
“You're so not driving right now. Truck keys.”
Zeke wanted to protest, but in the face of Lisa's confidence he just limply handed them over. Lisa gave him Claude's door key and the scribbled note in exchange. “You can give me directions to get back there.”
It seemed much faster getting back than the drive to the clinic with the injured cat had been. Lisa drove with competent skill, and slotted the big truck into curb-side parking just a few houses down. Zeke took a breath, and got out. He'd expected Lisa to stay in the truck while he ran the errand, but she got out and locked it. “I'm coming with you.”
“Okay.” He triple checked the street number, and went to the neighbor's door. Her bell echoed inside and he practiced his opening statement. “You don't know me but...”, “Remember your neighbor Mr. Claude... Mr. Delacourt... your next door neighbor had a fall...”
His practice was in vain though, because there was no answer to the doorbell, even on a second and third try. He and Lisa glanced at each other. Lisa pulled out her phone and said, “Well, it's only four thirty, maybe she's still at work or something.”
“Sure. Right. Absolutely, that's got to be it. Wow, I thought it was much later.” He turned what he was sure was a blank gaze on Lisa. “What now? A different neighbor?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don't like handing his key to someone he didn't give permission for, you know? We could just wait.”
“Yeah. Okay. Here? Or in the truck?”
“Truck. Definitely. It might be pretty creepy to come home and find strangers camped out on your doorstep. If we circle the block I can take that other parking spot so we can see her front door. And I have more than enough homework in my bag to keep me busy.”
“Sure. Good. Me too.” Zeke swallowed. All his normal verbosity seemed to be short-circuited right now. He forced his shoulders straight and pasted on a cheerful expression. “You drive again.”
An hour later they were still parked facing the neighbor's porch. Lisa had completed a math assignment, and started on history. The deep frown on her face, which truthfully made her look like a guy for the first time since Zeke had met her, might have been due to the intricacies of the Prohibition era. Or it might have been due to the fact that Zeke had put in ten minutes on his French, and then on his calculus, and his business accounting... and his hair, and the novel he brought to school to read in spare minutes, and searching the net on his phone. He'd gotten out tw
ice to go peer at the neighbor's house from the sidewalk, in case she was really home and just deaf. Then he got out once more because he'd been tapping his foot in time to the music on his iPod, while chewing gum, and drumming his fingers, and he had the distinct impression that if he didn't give Lisa some space he might just end up with his iPod crammed down his throat.
Crap. He liked Lisa, and having a friend who also had no hope of being accepted into the school elite would be so good. But he was well aware that, in his case, enforced time together in a small space wasn't the way to bond someone in friendship. He jogged down the road a bit, did a few stretches and went back. He leaned on her window and said, “How much longer should we wait?”
Lisa sighed, and checked the time. “Another half hour?”
Zeke decided it was best to leave Lisa to her writing and wander around a bit more. The street was quiet. A couple of cars had turned in at neighboring driveways, but there was no one outside walking a dog or doing yardwork that he could strike up a conversation with. He walked up along the side of Mr. Delacourt's house. In a window near the back of the house, he saw two cats perched on the sill. Two pink mouths opened at him in silent mews. Two pairs of green-gold eyes seemed to glare at him. Zeke hurried back to his truck.
“I think we should feed the cats. They look hungry.”
Lisa hesitated, then stowed her books in her bag and got out. She let Zeke go first down the walk, but at the front door she took the key and shouldered him aside, opened it carefully, and slithered in through a narrow space. She pulled the door tight behind her, nearly closing it in Zeke's face.
“What the hell? Let me in.”
“Carefully.” She pulled it just a fraction wider. “The last thing we want is to let another cat loose.”
“Oh. Hell, no.” Zeke squeezed inside.
The house was dim, with curtains drawn across the front windows. It smelled faintly of dust, and garlic, but not unpleasantly so.
A loud mew from down the hall heralded the appearance of the two cats he'd seen earlier. The large fluffy orange one stomped over, at least as much as a cat can stomp, and meowed again loudly. The smaller black one stayed in the doorway watching them.
Lisa said, “There should be one more.”
“Really?” The guy had four cats?
“Yeah; Lottie, Esther and something else - a guy's name.”
“Maybe if we get the food out, it'll appear.”
Lisa quirked a smile. “Good bet. So, we need the kitchen.” She led the way toward the back of the house. Zeke glanced around and then followed her, because he had no better idea. She turned out to be right - the kitchen was just past the doorway where the black cat sat.
Zeke was familiar with dogs, but with Mom's allergies they'd never had a cat. The two visible ones wound around Lisa's ankles, like they knew she was the source of their food. Zeke lounged against the counter, as Lisa tentatively opened a cabinet or two. He jumped when she snapped, “Well, you want to help me find the food or are you just here for decoration?”
“Sorry.” He tried a cabinet or two of his own. Plates and bowls. Glass jars and condiments, including some pickled something-or-others that he had to take a second look at. Okra. Huh. Then as he bent for a lower cupboard... “Holy Christ!” Something heavy and sharp landed on his back. He grabbed for the counter for balance, and yipped even more shrilly as tiny knives pricked his shoulders. The weight slid and dropped off, and he whirled to see a huge grey tiger-striped cat on the floor at his feet, staring up at him.
Lisa snickered. “I guess you found what's-his-name. He was on the refrigerator.”
“Crap. It looks like a lynx. Lying in wait to leap down on its prey.”
The big cat eyed him with a haughty glare, then stalked over to a dish in the corner and gave it a smack with one massive paw. The bowl slid six inches across the floor.
“Better feed it before it decides to actually bring you down and eat your carcass.”
“You're smaller,” Zeke muttered. “You'd be an easier kill.”
“You're slower. I'd only have to outrun you. Ah. Bingo.” Lisa bent to pull a couple of small cans out of the cupboard. “He said give half a can each and don't let them have more.”
The grey cat was clearly tracking the food in Lisa's hands as she set the cans on the counter.
Zeke said, “Maybe we should give the big one a whole can, just in case.”
“I don't think you want to let him know he has the upper hand.”
They opened the food, carefully got the grey cat's dish out from under his watchful eyes, and found three other bowls in separate corners of the kitchen. Lisa chose two at random and dished out the measured amount. The cats clearly had a routine, and each settled in to eat its share. Zeke tried not to look at the empty bowl in the fourth corner. That cat would be fine. She'd be home soon. It hadn't been his fault. When the grey monster walked over to sniff at the empty bowl and then gave him a look, Zeke actually told it, “It wasn't my fault.”
Lisa laughed. “Here, I put away the rest of that can in the fridge. Let's head out.”
“Do you think we should... I don't know, clean the bowls or look for, um, litter boxes?” The black cat was still nibbling slowly but the other two were done.
“I think we should head home, and not wander around the guy's house any more.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Zeke could feel the flush on his face. “Right.”
“If the neighbor is still out, we'll have to come back tomorrow morning to bring back the key. If you're still feeling guilty enough to clean out cat boxes, you can offer to do it then.”
Zeke followed Lisa as they left, locked the door, confirmed that the neighbor still wasn't answering, and made their way to his truck. There he felt the need to assert himself, after an hour of playing the idiot. “I'll drive.”
“You're sure?”
“Give me the damned keys.”
It wasn't far to Lisa's house. Zeke pulled into her driveway, and cleared his throat, drumming on the steering wheel. He suddenly didn't want to see her go. It had been so good not to have done all that alone. “Do you, um, want to come with me tomorrow? When I go back to feed the cats or drop off the keys or whatever?” He hoped he didn't sound as anxious as he felt about facing Claude or his neighbor in the morning.
Lisa hesitated.
“I mean, I know it's Saturday, so maybe you're busy or want to sleep in or whatever. But I think it looks better to have both of us. If he's not home, I mean, and the neighbor's not, and we have to go in again. Like we're keeping each other honest. Not that I wouldn't be honest even if you weren't there.”
Lisa put a hand on his knee and squeezed firmly, and Zeke jumped in surprise, then realized he'd been bouncing in his seat. She was just trying to stop his jiggling, that was all. He tried to settle down calmly, and look like he didn't care whether she came along or not.
Lisa's little smile suggested that was a total fail. “Don't worry. I'll come with you. Pick me up at eight? That way if Claude isn't home yet, the cats won't starve.”
“Thanks.” Zeke sighed. “Really, thank you.”
“Tomorrow then.” Lisa moved his... her, her, her hand off Zeke's knee and got out. Zeke watched her walk up to her door and go inside. She looked like a girl, she moved like a girl, well, mostly. She had long silky brown hair and a purse. Zeke reminded his stupid body that the fact that she probably still had a dick inside those jeans didn't make her boyfriend material. But his drive home was more uncomfortable than he'd expected it to be. He firmly turned his thoughts to Viggo Mortensen. That was what he wanted in a boyfriend. But maybe in Lisa, he'd find a friend.