Two Tall Tails by Sofie Kelly

well . . . for Jason.
    Rose invited Elvis and me for supper that evening. Cooking wasn’t my strong suit at the best of times; one-handed was beyond my limited skills. We moved out on to the veranda for dessert: Rose’s berry cobbler for the two of us, and a chopped sardine for Elvis. He licked his whiskers and seemed to smile at her as she set the bowl on the railing in front of him.
    I had just eaten the last spoonful of berries when Katie Burns came around the side of the house. She lived across the street from Tom with her husband, Matt, and their four-year-old, Molly.
    â€œI just wanted to bring this back,” she said, holding out a blue bubble glass plate to Rose. “And say thank you again.”
    â€œYou’re welcome, my dear.” Rose took the plate and set it on the floor next to her chair. It had held two dozen peanut butter chocolate chip cookies that Rose had made when the pregnant Katie had confided that she was craving peanut butter cups but they gave her heartburn. “Did they help with the cravings?”
    Katie smiled and put a hand on her belly. “Yes. Thank you.” Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her bangs pushed to one side. With her glowing, creamy skin and bright eyes, she looked like an advertisement for having a baby. “Have either of you seen a pink and purple striped foam ball about this big?” she asked, holding her rounded hands about three inches apart.
    I shook my head.
    â€œNo,” Rose said.
    Elvis cocked his head to one side and crinkled his nose, which I decided to interpret as him not having seen the ball, either.
    â€œMy mom got it for Molly, and now it’s disappeared,” Katie said.
    â€œWe’ll check the yard,” Rose said. “And I know sometimes Molly plays with Matilda in Tom’s backyard. “The ball could have ended up over here.”
    Elvis immediately jumped down from his perch and started down the veranda steps. When he reached the grass, he stopped, looked over his shoulder at Rose and meowed loudly.
    Rose got to her feet. “And as Elvis has just pointed out, there’s no time like the present.” She followed the cat across the yard. “Let’s check the flowerbeds first,” I heard her say.
    Katie watched them and grinned. “Sometimes I’d almost swear your cat knows what we’re saying.”
    â€œRose says he’s smarter than some people she knows.”
    Katie’s grin got a little wider and she nodded. “You know, I believe that.”
    I didn’t add that the cat also seemed to be able to tell when someone was lying. Of course, being a cat, he only demonstrated that skill when he felt like it.
    We watched Rose and her furry sidekick make their way to the far end of the yard. She was checking out the wild rosebushes while he walked along the top of the rock wall sniffing the ground almost as though he were trying to sniff out a clue.
    Katie rested a hand on her baby bump. “I’ve always wondered, why did you name Elvis, Elvis?”
    â€œThat wasn’t me,” I said, getting to my feet and moving off the veranda to join her. “Sam named him.” Sam was Sam Newman, owner of The Black Bear Pub and my late father’s best friend. “He claims the cat is a fan of the King.”
    â€œHey, me too,” Katie said.
    Katie told me all about Molly’s upcoming role as a daisy in the Spring Fling concert at the four-year-old’s preschool while Rose and Elvis checked the yard. There was no sign of Molly’s ball.
    â€œThanks for looking,” Katie said.
    Elvis bobbed his head and made a soft murp sound, almost as though he was saying, “You’re welcome.”
    The next morning right after he’d had his breakfast, Elvis went to the door, meowed insistently and looked over his shoulder at me. Translation: “I want to go out.”
    I let him into the hall and he moved purposefully toward