There was the Robin I knew and loved. “Wait till you see the bill.”
“Worth it at any cost,” she said. “Thanks.”
“No worries. So, did your mom get a chance to talk to Rajiv yet?”
“They spoke last night. He’s in New York right now and won’t be in San Francisco until Saturday morning. She set up the meeting for the afternoon.”
“Okay, I’ll tell Derek.”
“Great. I think we should all be there.”
“I do, too.” I grabbed a pencil and pulled out my desk calendar. “Oh, crap-a-doodle.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We promised Jeremy we’d go to the Castro Street Fair to see his street performance.”
“That’s right.” Robin groaned. “I forgot all about it.”
“Rats.” I sighed. “I’ll tell him we can’t make it.”
“Oh, but that’s my favorite street fair,” she said. “There’s a great local sculptor who always has a booth there. And I might get some of my stuff in there, too.”
I thought about it. Truth was, I loved the Castro fair, too. All those cute boys in their leather chaps. And the food stalls were always top-notch. And Jeremy had been so excited about having us all show up to watch him perform.
“Maybe we can set up the meeting for later in the afternoon,” I said. “I think Jeremy’s on at one o’clock.”
“Yes, okay,” she said. “We can watch Jeremy, then meet Rajiv at the Cove Cafe maybe around three or four.”
The Cove was your basic American diner, but it wasn’t greasy, the waiters were great, and it was located on Castro Street. We wouldn’t have to walk too far after Jeremy’s performance.
“And Shiva will love the street fair,” Robin added. “It’ll remind her of the bazaar in Varanasi.”
“Minus the Ganges,” I said, laughing. “Okay, if she’s up for it, that would work out perfectly.”
“She’s up for anything I say she’s up for,” Robin murmured.
“It’s like that, is it?”
“Oh, yeah. She kind of flipped out once she heard what I’d gone through. She came by Austin’s place twice a day just to check up on me. It’s weird having her around, doting on me.”
“I think it’s nice that she’s worried about you.” After all the years of benign neglect, it was good to know Shiva actually cared about her daughter.
“We’ll see how long it lasts, now that we’re living in the same space for the next few days.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” I said. “Listen, Derek’s going out with clients Friday night, so I’m having a girls’ night. Margaritas and tacos. If you and your mom don’t have plans, why don’t you come over? It would be interesting to introduce Shiva to Vinnie.”
“Sounds like fun. We’ll be there.”
Tyler stared at the book. He turned it over and scanned the back cover. Then he opened the book, checked the last few pages, and leaned in close to examine the inner hinges. Finally, he closed the book and gazed up at me. “Is this my book?”
“Tyler,” his mother said, “of course it’s your book.”
“But it’s different.”
“It’s all fixed, just as you wanted,” Lisa said, and shot me a look of embarrassed confusion. “Miss Brooklyn sewed the pages back together and glued the covers so it would be like new.”
He was sitting up on his knees at their dining room table, so I sat down in the chair next to him. He had both elbows on the table now, and his expression was so serious, I had to smother a grin. “Look in the front of the book, Tyler. You signed your name, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” he muttered, and turned the book over. On the flyleaf, he had written his name in block letters, in heavy pencil. He studied the signature minutely, then looked up at me, still suspicious. “That looks like my name.”
“It is your name. And do you remember where you colored the beast orange?”
His eyes widened and he flipped through the pages. He nodded rapidly and tapped his fingers on the page. “It’s mine, it’s mine.”
“Do you like it?” his mother asked.
He rubbed his fingers over the crayon scrawling and tiny orange flakes came off on his skin. He nodded again. “Good. It’s . . . good. Mine.”
“So you’re happy with it?” Lisa said, prompting him to be polite.
“Yes, it’s mine. It’s good.” He stroked the page, then looked up at me. “Thank you, Miss Brooklyn.”
I’d had more effusive praise from my clients, but there was something honest and pure about the six-year-old’s approval. “You’re welcome, Tyler.”
Without warning he threw himself at me and hugged me as best he could, considering he was sprawled between two chairs. “How did you do it? You made it new. It’s like . . . magic.”
I laughed. “It is magic, but someday I’ll show you how to do it.”
He sat back in his chair. “Yes. I want to see how you did it.”
“I’ll teach you, if it’s okay with your mom.”
“Can I, Mommy?”
It was the first time I’d heard him call her Mommy, so I knew this was important. We both looked at Lisa, who smiled and nodded.
“Yes, yes.” Tyler rubbed his hands and bobbed and wiggled in his chair.
“Tyler, isn’t there something you’re forgetting?” Lisa said, and touched the pocket of her jeans.
“Oh.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out five wrinkled one-dollar bills. He straightened them, then handed them to me. “This is for you, Miss Brooklyn. You earned it for a job well-done.”
Pookie wasn’t eating.
It was early afternoon on Friday, and I could see the reason in her eyes. She’d been here long enough. It was so unfair that she had to stay at my place while Splinters, the sick cat, was allowed to luxuriate at home with Vinnie and Suzie at his beck and call. What had Pookie done to deserve this banishment? Why did she have to be the one to live with me, the human who almost forgot to feed her?
It happened only once, but I wasn’t off the hook yet. Probably never would be. Cats held grudges; I saw that now.
Naturally, Pookie didn’t say any of that out loud, but it was apparent every time she looked at me. She wore her contempt for me like a second fuzzy skin. She was the prisoner; I was the jailer. She let me know with each swift swish of her tail that she would despise me to her dying day.
Or maybe that was just my imagination.
The fact is, I love animals; I really do. But I was never very good with pets. While I was growing up, there were always animals in the house. My brothers had dogs and my baby sister had a cat. There were hamsters and gerbils and little white mice, but none of them were mine. At age seven, I finally insisted on getting a pet of my own, but my mom drew the line at another furry beast. I could have a goldfish, she told me.
I was thrilled. Goldfish were so pretty and shiny. I could have a fishbowl in my room and decorate it with colorful pebbles and fake seaweed and a ceramic treasure chest. At the pet store, I picked out the one fish I thought had the best personality in the tank. Shiny and bright orange-gold, she wasn’t the fastest swimmer, but she seemed to like me. And I liked her. I’d already named her in my mind. Goldie. Undulating back and forth near the side of the tank where I stood watching, she seemed to stare back at me, reaching out, calling my name.
Take me home, B-B-B-Brooklyn
, she seemed to say in her bubbly little voice.
I am your fish
.
Who could’ve known that Goldie had a weak gill? It was so unfair. That was why she undulated. That was why she wasn’t a fast swimmer. I came home from school and found her dead, bloated, floating on the surface of the water in her pretty little bowl. I’d had her only two weeks.
I took Goldie’s death personally. It broke my spirit and destroyed my confidence as a pet owner. Fear and guilt were my new watchwords. I could never ask for another pet after that. For goodness’ sake, I couldn’t take care of a fish. How could I be trusted with a mammal?
And Pookie knew it.
I called Suzie to tell her the cat wasn’t eating and she hung up on me. Twenty seconds later, she was knocking on my door.
“Thanks so much for coming over,” I said as I closed the door and led her into my living area.
“No worries, kiddo,” Suzie said as she followed me. “Hey, are you okay? Looks like you’re limping.”
“What? No.” Oh, God, I’d pulled a muscle in my leg the other night when Derek and I were doing research, but I wasn’t about to let anyone know. “I . . . bumped into a chair. I’ll be fine.”
“Hope so, but if it keeps hurting, Vinnie’s got a poultice that’ll set you right.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”
Pookie came skittering across the floor at the sound of Suzie’s voice.
“There she is,” Suzie said, picking up the cat and hugging her. “She’s only got two more days left here. Splinters’s medication is finished, but we have to wait until Saturday before the cats can be together again.”
“She must feel like she’s in solitary confinement over here,” I said, then couldn’t help but smile as Pookie draped herself over Suzie’s shoulder, a boneless, furry lump of love.
“No, no,” Suzie said as she scratched the cat’s ears. “She likes it here.”
“Nope. I think she’s had it with me,” I muttered. “She’s ready to go home.”
“Don’t be cracked,” Suzie said, stroking the cat’s fur. “She loves you. Don’t you, Pookers, don’t you? Yes, you do. Yes, you do.”
Suzie’s normally tough-chick voice shot up three octaves as she continued crooning to her cat. “Yes, you do. Yes, you do.”
Pookie’s purrs of sublime love radiated through the room. I could feel her blissful vibrations from several feet away. She never vibrated around me. Of course, that was probably a good thing. Still, seeing the love generated between the two left me feeling bittersweet. Maybe it was time I found an animal of my very own to love.
“Hello, darling.”
I lit up like a Christmas tree at the sound of Derek’s voice. As he crossed the living room, I ran to greet him. “You’re home early. I’m so happy. What’s going on?”
He wrapped me in his arms and whispered, “Maybe I just missed you.”
“Oh.” I hugged him back, loving the masculine scent of him. Hmm, who needed a cat?
Suzie sighed. “Sweet.”
“Hello, Suzie,” Derek said over my head.
“Hey, Derek. Just visiting my baby, here.”
“She’s a lovely cat.”
“Yes, she is,” Suzie murmured, then repeated it straight to Pookie. “Yes, you are. Yes, you are.”
I chuckled. There was a whole lot of love going on in here. I looked up at Derek. “Does this mean you’ll be here for girls’ night?”
“Are you serving Cornish pasties, by chance?”
“God, no,” I said, wrinkling my nose.
“Then, sadly, I can’t make it,” he said, smiling wryly. He eased back to check his watch. “I’ll be heading out in a while to meet Clive and his partners at Gary Danko.”
“Wow, how’d you swing that one?” Suzie said, putting the cat down. “It takes three months to get a reservation there.”
With a brief shake of his head, he said, “Corinne takes care of these things.”
Suzie snorted and winked at me. “I’ll give Corinne a call next time I’m in a jam.”
Pookie wandered over to her bowl of mashed salmon and began to nibble.
“She’s eating,” I marveled.
“My work here is done,” Suzie said. “I’ll be back at seven for margaritas.”
“Thanks so much for coming over.”
“She just needed a little Suzie love,” she said, grinning. After bending to give the cat one more affectionate scratch behind her ears, she stood up and punched my arm. “See you later, gator.”
As soon as I heard the door close behind Suzie, I looked at Derek. “How long before you have to leave?”
“Long enough,” he said, grabbing hold of my arms and backing me toward the couch.
I laughed. “What are you doing?”
“I should think it would be obvious.” He yanked off my sweater in one brash move. I shook my hair back and watched him watching me, his dark eyes glittering with intent.
“You’re awfully dressed up,” I said, fingering his tie. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll wrinkle your suit?”
“No.”
My knees hit the couch and I fell backward. He followed. I pressed my hand to his chest. “What if I told you I’m not in the mood?”
“I’d have to call you a liar.”
Chapter 16
Earlier that day, I’d made the margarita mix and chopped up all the ingredients for the tacos. Good thing, because Derek had put a wrench in my schedule, so to speak. I wasn’t complaining. On the contrary, I felt like bragging, but I’d never been that kind of girl. No, our afternoon interlude would be my little secret. I hoped so, anyway. Knowing Robin and her big mouth, the whole world was likely to hear the full details if I wasn’t careful. I made a mental note to avoid eye contact with her.
The only thing that had dampened my pleasure was that just before Derek left for his evening out, we heard from Inspector Lee that Galina had been questioned and released. Despite my protests, Lee stood firm. Galina had an alibi for the actual time of death, and her story had checked out. But they would be watching her, Lee assured me. I reminded her that Robin was back in town, and if Galina was free, then Robin was in danger. Lee again insisted they’d keep an eye on her.
Her word should’ve been enough to ease my worries, but it wasn’t. I would be sure to warn Robin to be on guard.
The doorbell rang and I ran to the front to answer it. Robin and Shiva smiled as I pulled the door open. Then Robin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise—and a touch of admiration, I’d like to think.
“Somebody got lucky,” she murmured.
“Shut up,” I whispered, then quickly smiled at Shiva as they both walked inside.
As Robin passed me she winked, and we both knew that she knew and wanted me to know she knew. Twisted, but that’s a best friend for you.
Shiva stepped into my studio and gazed around the room. “Brooklyn, this is wonderful. A truly professional space. You have come so far since your days as Abraham’s pupil.”