said Flavia. “I mean he’s been totally stealing from you like forever. Why are you like so totally surprised and stuff that he like tried to knock over a convenience store or whatever?”
“Tr ied?” said Craig. “I got the impression he succeeded.”
Gradually the story came out. Remember those quarters Cat Hater had stolen to buy beer and cigarettes? Well, he hadn’t bought beer and cigarettes. He’d bought lottery tickets at the corner convenience store instead. He’d scratched them off at the counter, and discovered he’d won nothing. He’d then requested the key to the bathroom, and, instead of answering the call of nature, he’d attempted to sneak out the service entrance with a twelve-pack of beer. When the clerk had confronted him, he—I suppose believing he had nothing to lose, she was going to call the police anyway—turned the thing into a stickup by pulling a handgun from his pocket and demanding that she empty the cash register and throw in a couple of packs of cigarettes.
The whole thing had been caught on surveillance cameras, but Jimmy would probably have gotten away with it if Flavia hadn’t inadvertently turned him in for a crime she hadn’t even known he’d committed. Had she not put the police on his tail, I have no doubt that by the next day Cat Hater would have taken his ill-gotten gains and headed for parts unknown.
“Do you think any of that story he told you was true?” Flavia asked. “You know, about those guys being like after him and stuff?”
Ann just rolled her eyes.
“And this was the guy you dumped me for!” Craig said.
That was completely untrue and Craig knew it, but it did open up an interesting line of thought. My Lady turned bright red and mumbled something about not having dumped Craig and there having been nothing going on between her and Jimmy.
“I think I’ll go,” said Flavia.
After Flavia had departed, Craig and Ann just sat there on opposite ends of the couch for a while.
“I’m sorry,” My Lady said, finally breaking the silence.
“I know,” said Craig.
“I behaved like an idiot.”
“True,” Craig answered.
Now My Lady certainly was sorry , and it was true that there were elements of the idiotic to be found in her behavior of late; however, I wasn’t convinced that this frankness on Craig’s part might not backfire if he persisted in perpetuating the misguided assumption that My Lady was entirely to blame for their fractured romance.
I leaped into Craig’s lap and applied a restraining paw to his forearm—the one not swathed in gauze. He ignored me.
“There really wasn’t anything going on between Gwendolyn and me,” Craig said. “Not since about 2003, anyway.”
“I know,” said Ann.
“Then why did you get so mad at me?”
“Because you didn’t tell me about her.”
“ She just isn’t important to me anymore. That’s why I never mentioned her, and if she’s not important to me, then why should she be important to you?”
“I know, but I tell you everything.”
“True.”
I applied another paw of warning. Again, my warning went unacknowledged.
“It’s just that the whole thing made me scared that maybe I care about you a lot more than you care about me,” Ann said.
I dug my claws in a little. If Craig replied, “True” to th is statement, I was going to make his good arm match the bandaged one.
“But I do care about you,” said Craig. “I think I love you.”
I jumped off Craig’s lap. My work was done. I could have stuck around and witnessed the passionate scene which followed, but, as I’ve probably already mentioned, I’m not much of a voyeur. Besides, I could hear that the cricket which had escaped during Ann and Flavia’s scuffle had come back to roost among the remains of Mrs. Jackson’s potted geraniums. I scratched to get out before My Lady became so enraptured by Craig that getting her attention became impossible. I trotted out into the dusk, tail
“Tr ied?” said Craig. “I got the impression he succeeded.”
Gradually the story came out. Remember those quarters Cat Hater had stolen to buy beer and cigarettes? Well, he hadn’t bought beer and cigarettes. He’d bought lottery tickets at the corner convenience store instead. He’d scratched them off at the counter, and discovered he’d won nothing. He’d then requested the key to the bathroom, and, instead of answering the call of nature, he’d attempted to sneak out the service entrance with a twelve-pack of beer. When the clerk had confronted him, he—I suppose believing he had nothing to lose, she was going to call the police anyway—turned the thing into a stickup by pulling a handgun from his pocket and demanding that she empty the cash register and throw in a couple of packs of cigarettes.
The whole thing had been caught on surveillance cameras, but Jimmy would probably have gotten away with it if Flavia hadn’t inadvertently turned him in for a crime she hadn’t even known he’d committed. Had she not put the police on his tail, I have no doubt that by the next day Cat Hater would have taken his ill-gotten gains and headed for parts unknown.
“Do you think any of that story he told you was true?” Flavia asked. “You know, about those guys being like after him and stuff?”
Ann just rolled her eyes.
“And this was the guy you dumped me for!” Craig said.
That was completely untrue and Craig knew it, but it did open up an interesting line of thought. My Lady turned bright red and mumbled something about not having dumped Craig and there having been nothing going on between her and Jimmy.
“I think I’ll go,” said Flavia.
After Flavia had departed, Craig and Ann just sat there on opposite ends of the couch for a while.
“I’m sorry,” My Lady said, finally breaking the silence.
“I know,” said Craig.
“I behaved like an idiot.”
“True,” Craig answered.
Now My Lady certainly was sorry , and it was true that there were elements of the idiotic to be found in her behavior of late; however, I wasn’t convinced that this frankness on Craig’s part might not backfire if he persisted in perpetuating the misguided assumption that My Lady was entirely to blame for their fractured romance.
I leaped into Craig’s lap and applied a restraining paw to his forearm—the one not swathed in gauze. He ignored me.
“There really wasn’t anything going on between Gwendolyn and me,” Craig said. “Not since about 2003, anyway.”
“I know,” said Ann.
“Then why did you get so mad at me?”
“Because you didn’t tell me about her.”
“ She just isn’t important to me anymore. That’s why I never mentioned her, and if she’s not important to me, then why should she be important to you?”
“I know, but I tell you everything.”
“True.”
I applied another paw of warning. Again, my warning went unacknowledged.
“It’s just that the whole thing made me scared that maybe I care about you a lot more than you care about me,” Ann said.
I dug my claws in a little. If Craig replied, “True” to th is statement, I was going to make his good arm match the bandaged one.
“But I do care about you,” said Craig. “I think I love you.”
I jumped off Craig’s lap. My work was done. I could have stuck around and witnessed the passionate scene which followed, but, as I’ve probably already mentioned, I’m not much of a voyeur. Besides, I could hear that the cricket which had escaped during Ann and Flavia’s scuffle had come back to roost among the remains of Mrs. Jackson’s potted geraniums. I scratched to get out before My Lady became so enraptured by Craig that getting her attention became impossible. I trotted out into the dusk, tail
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