“Fine,” Lucy said and raised the kitten into the air. “I dub you David the cat. And if you're anything like the guy you're named after, you'll be an enormous pain in the butt.”
“You like him, don't you?” David poked her with his elbow.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” She put the cat on the sofa next to her so she could give David a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “This may be the best present anyone's ever given me.”
“You're very welcome.” They released each other and he sat back. “Did I mention that I got up at six-thirty in the morning just for you?”
“You want a cup of coffee?”
“I thought you'd never ask.”
Lucy went into the kitchen and busied herself pouring the water and measuring the coffee. The whole time, her heart sang with joy. She was in love with a pound of gray fur. And his name was David.
V
Sari walked into Lucy's apartment the next Sunday, greeted her, dropped a bag of bagels on the table, pulled a brand-new skein of yarn, a needle, and her knitting magazine out of her workbag, sat down at the table—and sneezed. And sneezed again. And three more times.
“Man,” she said, blowing her nose in a paper napkin. “Something's really bothering my allergies. Did James give you flowers or something?”
“Are you kidding?” Lucy pulled out some bagels and arranged them on a pretty dark blue plate. “He hates the whole custom of giving flowers—he thinks it's a waste of money and bad for the environment and celebrates death and blah, blah, blah—he'll go on and on about it if the subject comes up.”
“Really? So how does he feel about diamonds?”
“Now that's never come up,” Lucy said.
Sari sneezed again. “Something's bothering me.”
Lucy looked up with a sigh. “You're allergic to cats, aren't you?
“Yeah, of course. You know that. But—” Sari got to her feet and looked around. “Oh, no. Don't tell me—”
Lucy just pointed to the corner of the room, where David was curled up in a brand-new pet bed.
“Oh, shit, Luce,” Sari said. “Why'd you do this to me?”
“I totally forgot you had allergies. I’m sorry.”
Sneezing again, Sari reached for her purse. “Please let me have a Claritin in here.” She rummaged around inside. “We won't be able to do knitting circle here anymore—not unless you want to put me in the hospital.”
“You have to admit he's cute, though,” Lucy said.
“I guess. I’ve never been much of a cat person. Given the fact that they make me totally miserable.”
“Oh, but come on.” Lucy went over and scooped up David. “Look at him.”
“Not too close,” said Sari. “Oh, good, I have one.” She went into the kitchen and took the Claritin with a glass of water.
“Don't you worry,” Lucy said to David, kissing him on the side of his furry little mouth. “She just has allergies. Otherwise, she'd think you were absolutely adorable.”
Sari came back in. “Let's hope that works quickly,” she said and immediately sneezed. She reached for another napkin. “Won't be fast enough for me. So when did you decide to get a cat?”
Lucy lightly touched her index finger to the tip of the kitten's right ear and made it twitch. “You remember my lab partner, David?”
“Why do you always say it like that?” Sari said. She sat back down at the table, pulling the magazine toward her. “Why do you always feel you have to explain who David is? I had lunch with him at the autism walk just a few weeks ago.” She flipped through the magazine.
“Yeah, I know. Anyway, he got the cat for me.”
Sari instantly looked up again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he went to the pound and picked out the kitten—actually, it was a lot more complicated than that—I guess there was this whole auction thing—but the short story is that he got the kitten and gave him to me as a gift.”
“Why'd he do that? Did you tell him you wanted one?”
“Not really,” Lucy said. “But one night we were talking about all the rats we'd sac'd—killed—and I was kind of depressed about it and said how I had wanted to be a veterinarian when I was younger—”
“Oh, yeah, I remember. You used to make poor old Daisy lie down and let you examine her. Then you'd make pills out of rolled-up pieces of cheese and shove them down her throat.”
“—and I guess he took that to mean that I’d like a pet. And dogs are too much work and you can't cuddle a fish, so …”
“That's an awfully romantic gesture,” Sari said. “Giving someone a pet.”
“Romantic?” Lucy repeated. “No, it's not. It's nice, but it's not romantic. Parents give kids pets all the time. Why would you even say that?”
“Lucy, he surprised you with a baby kitten—”
“Kittens are always babies. That's like saying a baby baby.”
“Come on. Didn't you always use to say he had a crush on you?”
“Yeah, a million years ago. Before he started telling me I had a stick up my ass on a regular basis. Anyway, that's not what this was about. He just knew that I’m sick of killing rats, that's all.”
“So he got you a pet that kills rats.”
“It made sense to me.”
“What'd you name it?” Sari asked
“I’m not sure yet.” Lucy wasn't about to tell Sari the kitten's name was David, after everything Sari had just said. She knew Sari would try to read something into it.
“Well, congratulations,” Sari said. “What does James think of it?”
“I haven't told him yet,” Lucy said. She put David back into his little bed on the floor. “He hates pets even more than cut flowers.”
There was a quick rap on the door, and Kathleen walked in, hand in hand with Kevin Porter. “Hey!” she said. “Kevin wanted to come up and say hi to you guys. He's dropping me off.”
“Hi, Kevin,” Sari said with a wave. “Want a bagel?”
“No, thanks,” he said. “We just went out to breakfast. I’m stuffed.” He stayed by the door and surveyed the room. “So this is the famous Sunday morning knitting circle, huh? Kathleen's always rushing out on me to get here on time.”
“That's funny,” Lucy said. “She's never actually on time.”
“It moves around from place to place,” Sari said. “But we've been doing it for a while—a couple of years now.”
“I think that's great,” he said. “Wish I knew how to knit. It looks like fun.”
“You could learn,” Lucy said.
Kevin laughed. “I don't think so.”
“Why not?” Kathleen didn't seem to be as full as he was; she had gone right to the bagels and was tearing into one with her teeth. “Why wouldn't you learn?”
“You know,” he said. “It would be weird. A guy knitting.”
“Lots of guys knit,” Lucy said.
“Straight guys?”
“Sure.”
“Not that there's anything wrong with not being straight,” he said. He put his hand on the doorknob. “Well, maybe one day you guys can teach me. But right now I’ve got a date to play golf with my father. Kathleen, are you okay for a ride home?”
Kathleen looked at Sari.
“You're covered,” Sari said and sneezed.
“All right, then,” Kevin said. “Bye.” He slipped out, closing the door behind him.
“He couldn't leave fast enough, could he?” Lucy said.
“It's the knitting,” Kathleen said. “Guys like Kevin get freaked when things get too girly. Like it might be contagious.”
“’Guys like Kevin’?” Sari repeated. “What kind of a guy is he exactly?”
“Just your average American male.”
“You're madly in love with him, aren't you?” Lucy said. “Who wants coffee?”
“Do you need to ask?” Kathleen said. “And what the hell is that furry thing moving around over there? You bring one of your rats home?”
While Luc
y was introducing her to David, the phone rang, and when Lucy answered it, it was James saying he'd left a book he needed at her place and could he come by now and grab it?
Lucy hung up and said, “It's bring-your-boyfriend-to-work day here at the knitting circle. James is stopping by.”
“Oh, good,” Sari said. “Maybe we can scare him off the way we scared Kevin off. And then we can scare off my boyfriend— oh, wait, I don't have one.” She rubbed her eyes savagely. “God, they're so itchy I could scream.”
Kathleen pointed to her magazine. “Did you find something to knit?”
“Yeah. This.” She showed her the picture. It was a red, yellow, and black striped sweater.
“I like that it's cropped,” Kathleen said. “Very chic.”
“It won't look cropped on me,” Sari said. “Not unless I make it like five inches long.”
“You're lucky you're so small—you can knit a sweater for yourself in a couple of minutes. Takes me forever.”
“What are you working on now?”
Kathleen had finished the tube top at their last get-together. She grinned at Sari, and pulled out her own knitting magazine. “This.” She opened it to the marked page and pointed.
Lucy came over to look with Sari and groaned when she saw it was a bikini. A very skimpy hand-knit bikini.
Sari said, “Well, the good news is it can't take much yarn.”
“Knitting a bathing suit in November,” Lucy said. “Someone thinks she's going somewhere tropical this holiday season.”
“Nothing's definite,” Kathleen said, “but Kevin's parents own a house in Hawaii.”
“Of course they do,” Lucy said.
“You'll look great in this, Kath,” Sari said. “I could never pull it off, but you totally can.” She handed her back the magazine. “What color are you going to do it in?”
Kathleen pulled a skein out of her bag and showed them.
Lucy groaned again at the sight of the hot pink yarn. “Don't you ever get tired of being obvious?”
“Hasn't hurt me so far,” Kathleen said.
There was a knock on the door and then James came in. “You didn't tell me you had visitors! Hi, Sari. Hi, Kathleen.” He gave each of them a quick kiss on the cheek, finishing with Lucy. “Hi, babe. Did you know the door is propped open downstairs?”
“Yeah. I did that,” Lucy said.
“Oh. Guess I should have left it then.”
“Doesn't matter. We're all here now.”
Kathleen said, “You're a guy, James. What would you think of this”—she showed him the photo of the bikini—”in hot pink?”
He tilted his head and studied the picture. “Depends on who's wearing it.”
“Me.”
“Then I’m all for it.”
“See?” Kathleen said to Lucy. “He likes it in hot pink.”
“Right,” Lucy said. “A guy likes the idea of a gorgeous girl wearing a skimpy bathing suit—I’m sure it's all about the color.”
“No, it's—” James stopped. “Hold on.” His head turned. “What's that?”
“What?” Lucy looked in the same direction. David was sitting on the floor a few feet away, one leg in the air, his neck curved gracefully downward as he carefully licked his balls—or where his balls would have been if he hadn't been neutered. “Oh, that.”
As they all turned to look at him, David froze in that position. His eyes darted back and forth among all the humans. He slowly lowered his leg.
James said, “Kathleen? Sari? Will one of you please tell me that cat is yours?”
“Sorry,” Kathleen said with a cheerful shrug, and Sari said, “I can't even stand being in the same room with it. Allergies.”
“That would make it—” He looked at Lucy. “Yours.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I got a cat. Surprise!”
“You've got to be kidding me.”
“Why? You know I like animals.”
“And you know I think it's idiotic to spend money and time on something that doesn't contribute anything useful to the world.”
“He's soft,” Lucy said.
“Softer than you, James,” Kathleen said. “I mean, I’m just guessing…”
He didn't even smile. “I’m serious, Lucy. Pets have to be the biggest waste— Do you know that there are children starving in this country? In this city? And you're going to spend money on food for this thing?”
“I’m not taking food out of their mouths,” Lucy said. “I mean, I’m not not giving money to charity because I have a cat. It doesn't work that way.”
“Yeah, Lucy wouldn't care about starving kids even if she didn't have a cat,” Kathleen said.
“Stop helping her,” Sari said. “Stop talking.” She patted the chair next to hers firmly and Kathleen carried her knitting stuff and magazine over, sat down, and joined her in casting on stitches. But they were both listening to every word.
“I just can't believe you would go and get a cat when you know I hate the whole idea of pets,” James said. “Unless that's the point.”
“I realize this may come as a total shock,” Lucy said. “But not everything's about you.”
“You want something cute and cuddly? How about I buy you a stuffed animal? And I give this guy to a friend of mine who uses kittens for his research?”
“You're joking, right?” Lucy said.
“I’m deadly serious.”
“You're sick.”
“Oh, please,” he said. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
“I guess I’m not,” she said. “I guess I’m an idiot like all those other idiots in the world who don't think exactly like James Shields.”
“The world would be a much better place if people thought like me,” he said. “And you know it.”
“Can't you for once put yourself in someone else's shoes? Can't you see that someone might like to have a pet and still not be an idiot?”
“Nope,” he said. His mouth was a flat line. There was a pause.
Lucy shifted abruptly and said, “The book you wanted— where'd you leave it?”
“In the bedroom, I think.”
“Let me check.”
While she was gone, Sari said, “There are bagels, James, if you're hungry.”
“No, thank you,” he said.
Lucy came back into the room. “This it?”
He nodded and she handed it to him. Their fingers didn't touch. “Thanks. Goodbye, everyone. Lucy, I’ll call you later.” He turned and left, closing the door hard behind him—not quite a slam, but almost.
There was a moment of silence. Then: “No one wants to stay with us today,” Kathleen said. “I think it's all your fault, Sari. Offering a man a bagel. What's wrong with you?”
“I’m just a social klutz, I guess.” Sari glanced up at Lucy. “You okay, sweetie?”
“Yeah.” She sank down into a chair. “Slightly pissed, but okay. He's not right, is he? About the cat?”
“Definitely not,” Kathleen said. “It's your apartment and your life. Who the hell gave him the right to say you shouldn't have a pet?”
“I don't like cats,”
Sari said, “but I’ll defend to my death your right to have one.”Lucy stared at the knitting needle that was picking up stitches from the yarn wrapped around Sari's thumb and forefinger, like she was mesmerized by it. Then she said, “I don't know what's going on with me and James. Sometimes he just—” She stopped.
After a moment, Kathleen said, “I still think he's one good-looking dude.”
“And smart and obviously good at what he does,” Sari said.
“Yeah,” Lucy said. “But he can be kind of a dick.”
And by the way her friends didn't say anything, just suddenly got very involved in their knitting, she knew they didn't disagree.
VI
Sari checked her e-mail when she got home from the knitting circle. And there it was—her daily e-mail from
[email protected] The subject line was, “Worri
ed about Zack.” She went to delete it the way she normally did, but accidentally hit “read” instead.
She was fairly certain it was an accident.
She read the first line.
“I’m beginning to realize you don't actually give a shit about Zack,” it began.
She closed it down immediately and this time had no trouble finding the delete button. She sat at her desk, her head in her hands, for a long time.
VII
By the time James stopped by the lab on Wednesday afternoon to check in on that week's progress, he and Lucy hadn't spoken for three days—not since Sunday morning. They were cordial, though, and kissed each other quickly on the lips in front of David, who politely busied himself changing the rats’ water.
“You look tired, Lucy,” James said, and she said, “I am tired. David wouldn't stop jumping on me in bed last night.” The human David looked up with a laugh.
“So,” James said when the joke was explained to him, “you're to blame for this kitten.”
David went over to the sink. “I guess so.” He turned on the water.
“You disappoint me, Lee,” James said. “I thought better of you.
“Yeah, well, I disappoint a lot of people,” David said cheerfully. “You're in good company.” He washed his hands, dried them, and tossed the towel in the trash. “Shall we knock off now, Lucy? I know it's early, but I have to pack. I’m driving to my folks’ later tonight.” He headed to his desk.
“Sure,” Lucy said. “Happy Thanksgiving, David.”
David slipped his laptop into its case. “Happy Thanksgiving, Luce. Later, James.”
James raised his hand silently and David left. There was a long pause. Then Lucy said, “Oh, I edited that grant proposal.”
“Great.”
“It's in good shape. I’ll e-mail it to you tonight.”
“Fine.” There was a pause. Lucy sat down at her desk and shut down her computer.
Then James said, “You want to have dinner?”
She closed the laptop lid. “I’m meeting Sari.”
“Oh,” he said.
“You're welcome to join us.”
“No, thanks.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, rattled his change. “You want to come over to my place afterward? Maybe spend the night?”