At Wick's End - Tim Myers [45]
Before the last word was out of my mouth, the door chimed and an older woman with the most marvelous silver hair hurried in. “I’m making a centerpiece for my party and I ran out of wax,” she said, nearly out of breath. “Thank goodness you’re still here.”
Eve buried her gloating enough to wave good-bye as I waited on our last customer of the day. I should have gone to the bank earlier, but I’d forgotten all about it. That meant canned soup and another sandwich for dinner.
Tomorrow, I promised myself, I’d make it a point to cash my check so I could stock my larder upstairs. As much as I enjoyed Millie’s food, eating at The Crocked Pot would bankrupt me before long.
I finished the deposit slip after ringing up the centerpiece emergency and did a quick check of the inventory levels. We were going to have to order soon, and I didn’t have a clue how to go about it. I made a note to ask Eve about the process in the morning, my list of questions for her growing instead of shrinking. I didn’t have the slightest idea how I’d manage without her once she went back to her regular hours.
That evening, I had just finished eating my soup and sandwich in my apartment when there was a knock at my door. I peered through the peephole and found Heather on the other side.
“It’s too late to invite me out,” I said with a grin as I opened the door, “I just finished eating.”
The levity left me the second I saw the expression on her face. “What’s wrong, Heather?”
She held fiercely to a tabby cat as she said, “My mom’s in the hospital, and I’ve got to go be with her. Harrison, I need a huge favor.”
“Anything,” I said before I noticed the litter box and carrier off to one side.
“Can you watch Esmeralda for me while I’m gone? My dad can’t tolerate cats. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Mrs. Quimby can’t take her, her husband’s deathly allergic. You aren’t, are you? My friend Sally was going to watch her for me, but she’s out of town on a photo shoot.”
“Is she a model,” I asked, trying to buy some time to deal with Heather’s request.
“No, she’s a photographer, one of the best around here. I know I’m babbling, but I’m worried about my mother. So could you? Please?” Heather looked as if she was on the brink of breaking into tears.
What was one night? “Okay, I’ll do it.”
The relief on her face was instantaneous. “What a relief. Thank you, Harrison, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t said yes. I don’t know when I’ll be back,” she added as she thrust Esmeralda into my arms. The cat had other ideas, executing a remarkable spin that would have done an Olympic diver proud, then scampered into my apartment.
“She feels at home here. Belle used to keep her for me now and then.” Heather added, “She won’t be any trouble at all, I promise. I fed her a few minutes ago. Oh, dear, do you know about litter boxes?”
“Don’t worry about Esmeralda, my girlfriend in college had a cat, so I know what to do.” I didn’t add the fact that Janie’s cat Mr. Fluffy had hated me from the beginning, jealous of my presence and the attention I diverted from him. I had known better than to give her an ultimatum. We were clearly through, but before I could break it off, she dumped me. It appeared that Mr. Fluffy was the only male in her life, and I wasn’t even in the running for second place.
“This is so wonderful of you,” Heather said.
A thought suddenly occurred to me. “Who’s going to run your store while you’re gone?”
“Mrs. Quimby’s going to do it. Don’t worry, she’s got all of that covered. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Heather reached up and kissed me on the cheek, then hurried away before I had a chance to change my mind.
It took me ten minutes to find Esmeralda once Heather was gone. I finally found her on the bookshelf, curled up in front of Belle’s Agatha Christie collection. I spoke with her a few minutes, offered my hand, then tried to stroke her, but she was in no mood to be social. That