a cat for Christmas ?”
Ruby looked uncertain. “Speaking of Christmas, I came over to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. Some single folks in the neighborhood are getting together to share potluck.”
“Right, I almost forgot about Thanksgiving. That sounds great. What can I bring?”
“Nothing.” She waved her hand. “I just saw the condition of your kitchen. Doesn’t look like any real cooking is gonna happen in there.”
“I’m getting ready to paint in there. But I could pick something up at the—”
“Never you mind. These old gals are already cooking up a storm.”
“If they cook half as good as you, it should be delicious.”
“Dinner is at two,” she said as she was leaving. “You can drive us.”
“It’s not at your house?”
“No. But I have directions. We’ll leave a little before two.”
After working all Thursday morning, Garrison showered and shaved and dressed in his favorite black pullover sweater and tan cords. As he pulled on his jacket, he felt Harry rubbing himself against his legs. Realizing that he’d forgotten to put on a fresh particle mask after shaving, Garrison wassurprised that he wasn’t having another sneezing fit. Maybe his allergy meds were working better these days. Or maybe he was building some resistance. He bent down and scratched Harry’s head. “You’re a good old boy,” he told him. “More like a dog than a cat.”
Harry seemed to nod, almost as if he understood and agreed.
“Take care of things, buddy. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He chuckled. “I’m off to dine with—a bunch of old ladies.”
Ruby directed Garrison several blocks away. “There, that’s it. The little brown house with the gingerbread trim. Inviting, isn’t it?”
“Unless there’s a wicked witch living inside.” He chuckled as he parked across the street.
Ruby snickered. “I don’t think our hostess would appreciate that comment.”
He carried Ruby’s heavy basket of food, following her up the narrow brick walkway. “Lots of cars out here,” he said as she rang the bell. “This house looks a little small. Think we’ll all fit?”
“Cara insisted on having it here. It’s the first time she’s lived in a real house and she really wanted to host this gathering.”
“Cara?” He suddenly remembered the pretty brown-haired girl on the bike. “Is this Cara, uh, elderly?”
Ruby laughed. “Not in the least.”
He felt his face flushing as Cara opened the door. Wearing a garnet-colored knit dress and with her dark hair pinned up, she looked even prettier than he remembered. Suddenly he wished he’d thought to bring a hostess gift. Like a cat.
“Come in.” She blinked in surprise as she opened the door wider.
Ruby started an introduction, but Cara stopped her. “Garrison and I have already met.” She made a forced smile. “He refused to part with one of his precious cats.”
Ruby frowned at him. “Oh . . . but Cara would make a wonderful pet owner. I would vouch for her. I’ve known her aunt for ages and—”
“Speaking of that, Aunt Myrtle is in the kitchen.” Cara took their coats. “She and Gladys have taken over and I think they’d appreciate your help, Ruby. They both agree that you make the best gravy.” Cara led Ruby back through the somewhat crowded house. Left to his own, Garrison proceeded to introduce himself to some of the other guests. Although a few were younger, most of them seemed to be closer to his grandmother’s age. Before long, he found himself cornered by a pair of elderly sisters who had been good friends with Gram. Naturally, they wanted to hear all about him and what he’d been doing the past couple of decades.
After answering the Dorchester sisters’ questions about Uganda and explaining how he’d contracted malaria, he used the opportunity to tell them about Gram’s cats. “I’m looking for good homes,” he told them. “Can I interest you ladies in adopting a cat or two?”
The older
Ruby looked uncertain. “Speaking of Christmas, I came over to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. Some single folks in the neighborhood are getting together to share potluck.”
“Right, I almost forgot about Thanksgiving. That sounds great. What can I bring?”
“Nothing.” She waved her hand. “I just saw the condition of your kitchen. Doesn’t look like any real cooking is gonna happen in there.”
“I’m getting ready to paint in there. But I could pick something up at the—”
“Never you mind. These old gals are already cooking up a storm.”
“If they cook half as good as you, it should be delicious.”
“Dinner is at two,” she said as she was leaving. “You can drive us.”
“It’s not at your house?”
“No. But I have directions. We’ll leave a little before two.”
After working all Thursday morning, Garrison showered and shaved and dressed in his favorite black pullover sweater and tan cords. As he pulled on his jacket, he felt Harry rubbing himself against his legs. Realizing that he’d forgotten to put on a fresh particle mask after shaving, Garrison wassurprised that he wasn’t having another sneezing fit. Maybe his allergy meds were working better these days. Or maybe he was building some resistance. He bent down and scratched Harry’s head. “You’re a good old boy,” he told him. “More like a dog than a cat.”
Harry seemed to nod, almost as if he understood and agreed.
“Take care of things, buddy. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He chuckled. “I’m off to dine with—a bunch of old ladies.”
Ruby directed Garrison several blocks away. “There, that’s it. The little brown house with the gingerbread trim. Inviting, isn’t it?”
“Unless there’s a wicked witch living inside.” He chuckled as he parked across the street.
Ruby snickered. “I don’t think our hostess would appreciate that comment.”
He carried Ruby’s heavy basket of food, following her up the narrow brick walkway. “Lots of cars out here,” he said as she rang the bell. “This house looks a little small. Think we’ll all fit?”
“Cara insisted on having it here. It’s the first time she’s lived in a real house and she really wanted to host this gathering.”
“Cara?” He suddenly remembered the pretty brown-haired girl on the bike. “Is this Cara, uh, elderly?”
Ruby laughed. “Not in the least.”
He felt his face flushing as Cara opened the door. Wearing a garnet-colored knit dress and with her dark hair pinned up, she looked even prettier than he remembered. Suddenly he wished he’d thought to bring a hostess gift. Like a cat.
“Come in.” She blinked in surprise as she opened the door wider.
Ruby started an introduction, but Cara stopped her. “Garrison and I have already met.” She made a forced smile. “He refused to part with one of his precious cats.”
Ruby frowned at him. “Oh . . . but Cara would make a wonderful pet owner. I would vouch for her. I’ve known her aunt for ages and—”
“Speaking of that, Aunt Myrtle is in the kitchen.” Cara took their coats. “She and Gladys have taken over and I think they’d appreciate your help, Ruby. They both agree that you make the best gravy.” Cara led Ruby back through the somewhat crowded house. Left to his own, Garrison proceeded to introduce himself to some of the other guests. Although a few were younger, most of them seemed to be closer to his grandmother’s age. Before long, he found himself cornered by a pair of elderly sisters who had been good friends with Gram. Naturally, they wanted to hear all about him and what he’d been doing the past couple of decades.
After answering the Dorchester sisters’ questions about Uganda and explaining how he’d contracted malaria, he used the opportunity to tell them about Gram’s cats. “I’m looking for good homes,” he told them. “Can I interest you ladies in adopting a cat or two?”
The older
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