At Wick's End - Tim Myers [51]
After I finished at the bank, I found a grocery store along the way back to River’s Edge and decided to go on a little shopping spree. Forty minutes later, I’d put a noticeable dent in my take home pay, but my larder would be well-stocked for the next few weeks.
I found Mrs. Quimby waiting impatiently for me at my door when I got back, Esmeralda squirming in her hands. “Harrison, did you forget about your star boarder?”
Blast and nonsense, it had slipped my mind completely that I was still cat-sitting, even after I picked up a toy for Esme while I was out shopping. “I’m so sorry. I got hung up at the grocery store,” I said as I put my bags down and retrieved my key.
Mrs. Quimby sniffed at the air and said, “I don’t mind, but the princess is quite upset. She hates to wait for anything.”
I didn’t doubt that. Esmeralda seemed to be the type of cat who considered anything short of complete and utter devotion an unacceptable outrage.
“She’ll have to get over it,” I said as I opened the door. “My schedule’s not quite as set as Heather’s is.”
Esme shot through and disappeared inside before I could even get my key back out of the lock.
“You two have a fun evening together,” she said quickly as she walked away.
“Thanks. Sorry again about the delay.”
After I put away my groceries, I went in search of my boarder. “Esme. Come here, Esmeralda.”
I should have realized it was the height of futility calling a cat. While a dog would most likely come running at the sound of its name, that cat was probably holed up somewhere laughing at me. Then I remembered one of Janie’s tricks. I pulled out the can opener and opened one of Esmeralda’s dinner tins.
After a minute, she poked her head around the corner to see what I was up to as I arranged the meal tastefully in her bowl, and as she began to eat, it was obvious that we were friends again.
After making myself a sandwich and letting Esme finish her meal, I said, “Hey, I almost forgot. I got you something.” I retrieved a plush mouse toy I’d picked up at the grocery store and put it on the floor in front of her. If a cat could sneer, this one was doing it. I tried to make the mouse dance on the string, hoping to get some action out of her that way, but by the way Esme was looking at me, it was clear she thought I was insane.
I was beginning to concur with her opinion by the time I gave up.
I cleaned up the dishes, lit Belle’s candle and settled onto the couch to read. That’s when I noticed Esmeralda, playing not with the mouse, but with the packing it had come in, batting it back and forth from one paw to another.
It was all I could do to keep a groan from escaping my lips. The cat waited until I was settled in, then hopped up onto my lap and eased in for the evening. I suddenly remembered my earlier plan to confront Markum.
“Up you go,” I said as I dislodged an indignant cat.
I added, “I’ll be back before you know I’m gone. Why don’t you play with your new friend Mr. Packing while I’m out?” Why was I explaining all this to a cat?
Esmeralda told me exactly what she thought of my suggestion by turning and showing me her tail as she vanished into the bedroom.
Maybe she’d understood me after all.
Wonder of Wonders, Markum was in his office when I knocked on the door.
“Harrison, it looks like you’re keeping my hours now,” he said in his booming voice.
I glanced at my watch and saw that it was nearly ten o’clock. “Being a landlord is turning out to be a full-time job. I hope you didn’t lose anything in the lockers when they were vandalized.”
He shook his head as he led me back to his office. “No sir, I keep everything I need locked up in here.” The walls of the small room were covered with travel posters of exotic beaches, snowcapped mountain ranges and lush dense forests, and I realized that whichever way he swiveled in his chair, Markum would have a perfect view of the great outdoors.
He noticed my wandering gaze. “What can I say, I’m a pushover for exotic spots. Do you like to travel, Harrison?