Page 34 of Life, Love, and Other Messes

I looked up carefully. Lisa was stretched out on the sofa, arms behind her head, grinning at the ceiling. All I could do was sit there and blush.

“Either that or you’d tie me up, strip off my clothes in a leisurely manner, and sit on top of me masturbating until I beg you to violate me with various and sundry vegetables.”

“I don’t think you’ve read a word I’ve written.”

She whacked me with the throw pillow. There was the biggest smile on her face. “Chocolate? Melted wax?”

“Yeah, you’re the one who needs to write.” The feeling of being fourteen and giggling with friends at a sleepover came to me. It wasn’t a sexual feeling per se, even though we were talking about crazy things, just more of a warm fuzzy, like I could say anything and we could just laugh about it. Thinking about it for another minute or two, I opened up the new doc I’d started the other day.

I didn’t come up for breath for another hour. Every once in a while, Lisa would cuss at her game and I’d remember she was there, but for the most part, I wrote. It didn’t flow like it did off my meds, but I got a couple of chapters done, including some really good pages. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I liked it. I really did have a muse.

Friday came too soon. It felt like I needed more time to psyche myself up and brainstorm a list of things to talk about and do. Maudie and I had decided to stay at her house, where she would cook dinner. I felt a little bad about that, like for a first date we should go out and at least go Dutch if not fight over the check. She seemed to be into this idea, though, so I picked up a bottle of wine on the way to her apartment and rolled into the parking lot right at six.

I could see from there that the entire porch of number eight was covered in plants. Like so many plants there wasn’t even room for a token lawn chair. Some of them had beautiful blooms, some were huge with sleek green leaves, and a few were worse for the wear and tied up against stakes with blown glass water globes sticking out of their pots as if they were in the ICU. It was maybe a little excessive, but I had plants, too, both indoors and outside, so I just admired them as I went up the walk, and pressed the button outside the door.

Maudie answered right away, as though she’d been peeking through the blinds. She buzzed me up, and was waiting on the landing by the time I got up the stairs. “Good evening!”

“Hi. I hope you like white.” I held up the bottle.

“Oh, I don’t drink.”

“I’m sorry.” I could feel heat creeping up my neck. “I didn’t know.” Of course you didn’t, stupid. You wouldn’t have brought it if you knew.

“I’m not in recovery,” she said. “I just don’t drink. You’re welcome to.”

What I really wanted was to knock on her neighbor’s door and hand it off. Here I was on a date I wasn’t sure I wanted to be on in the first place and now I’d committed a faux pas thirty seconds in. I shrugged. “You can gift it to someone.”

“Does white go in the fridge or red?”

I followed her into the kitchen, which smelled really good. “White.”

She tucked the bottle into the fridge and went to stir something on the stove. “Drunken noodles,” she said. “Oh, that’s so ironic!”

With tofu. Great. I hoped she’d at least sauteed the tofu beforehand, but it didn’t look that way. I tried a laugh. “It is. Can I help or get you anything?”

“No, and we’re nearly ready. You can have a seat at the table.”

It was set with nice dishes and glasses of water without ice. I sat and looked around the apartment. She seemed very settled, with comfortable furniture and knickknacks on half-full bookshelves. I saw the cat tree in the corner before I saw a pair of golden eyes staring judgmentally at me from the back of the sofa. The rest of the cat was white with gray spots. I didn’t have a chance to say hello to it before another cat walked in from the other room, took one look at me, and booked it off into the kitchen.

It hopped up on the counter next to where Maudie was cooking, and she nudged it off, peeking back at me to see if I’d gag. “Get down, Ralphie. Not everyone appreciates that.”

I didn’t really mind, but I wouldn’t say I appreciated it, either. I smiled and gave a little wave. “Hi, Ralphie.” Ralphie took off back down the hall.

I didn’t dislike cats, but they were not my favorite creatures. I’d dated several women who had them, and they’d generally been very standoffish toward me. There had been one who liked me and parked on my lap and purred, which was nice, but if I touched her when she didn’t want it, she would bite the shit out of my hand. Dogs at least gave some warning when they were going to shred you. While I thought about it, I noticed two more, one on an armchair and one tucked into the upper level of the cat tree. They were all staring at me. “How many cats do you have? I think I’ve seen four.”

Maudie set dinner between us on the table. “Nine. I hope you like them.”

“Nine?”

“You rarely see more than a couple at once.”

I nodded. I imagined sitting on the sofa and being swarmed. “This is really good,” I said. I wasn’t lying; aside from the whole tofu thing the noodles were tasty. “Where did you get the recipe?”

“Just off the internet. Are you a cat person?”

“I’m more of a dog person,” I admitted. “But I do like cats.”

Maudie nodded like I’d said I was thrilled she had a house full. “I’ve had at least six since I was this big.” She held her hand out even with the tabletop.