Chapter Three #2
“Sure,” said Claire, laughing. “Through the kennels, if you don’t mind. We can always take out one or two later.”
Lacey hurried over and went from kennel to kennel, patting each furry head. Even Michael and Eli made kissy noises at a few.
Nick hung back.
Claire noticed. “Let me guess. You’re not an animal person?”
“It’s not that. I love all animals. I’ve just never done well with cats.”
“Oh?”
“They don’t seem to like me. I figure it’s best if I keep my distance. I’d hate to cause a kitty riot.”
“I see. Well, it’s true cats have a knack for recognizing the most uncomfortable person in the room, then they make a beeline for that person. They’re extremely intelligent creatures, and they are predators.”
“Right. So, you have quite the place here.”
“Thanks. I’m proud of the work we do.”
Lacey was cooing at an old tabby cat in the corner. “Claire, I love this little guy. Tell me about him.”
“That’s Mortimer,” said Claire. “He’s a sweet old man. A neighbor brought him to us years ago. He’d been abandoned and was living rough. He lives here permanently. Would you like to pet him?”
Lacey looked like someone had just asked her if she’d like to direct George Clooney in a movie. “Yes, please.”
Claire unlatched Mortimer’s cage and brought him to her. Lacey gushed over the feline, and so did Michael and Eli.
As for Mortimer, after giving them a good sniff, he rubbed his face all over their hands.
“Mortimer’s my old buddy,” said Claire. “I always tell new volunteers, ‘Mortimer needs to give you the seal of approval before you start working here.’ He thinks he runs the place, you see. I call him the Manager. Luckily, he loves everyone.”
Lacey gushed. “We’ll have to get you on film telling us that story.”
Claire turned to Nick. “Would you like to try petting him? I’ll hold him for you.”
“I don’t know,” said Nick.
“He’s very gentle.”
Just do it. He’s an itty bitty cat. “Okay.” Nick took one step.
Mortimer hissed.
Nick’s flight instinct kicked in, and he jumped back. All six feet, two inches of him.
Like a total badass.
“Mortimer!” Claire hurriedly put him back in his kitty condo. “I’m so sorry. He never hisses.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it,” said Nick, feeling strangely deflated at not getting the Manager’s seal of approval. “So, what’s next on the tour?”
As Claire showed them around the rest of the facility, Nick breathed a sigh of relief as they entered a few cat-free zones. Of course, there were pictures of cats hanging on all the walls, and he could swear their beady little eyes followed him.
The sanctuary itself was well-organized and the volunteers bustled around them as they performed their daily chores. Lacey made notes as they walked. Nick knew how her mind worked. She would want to film the staff at work so viewers could see what happened in a cat shelter.
As they toured the place, Nick could see all the repair projects that had likely been put off time and again.
There were spots of damp on a couple of the walls in the office.
Claire told them they’d had a couple of bad leaks two years ago, and when she’d brought in a contractor, the guy hadn’t done a good job.
The leaks had reappeared with the next big rain.
That pissed Nick off. He hated when lazy contractors took advantage of their customers. It tarnished the entire profession. Now, the drywall would need to be removed on those walls, and those leaks needed to be located before Claire’s property suffered any more damage.
She showed them the room where they washed all the cat blankets and other linens. The room itself was little more than a closet. Wedged in there was the saddest washer and dryer Nick had ever seen. There was a load of linens in the washer, and the machine clunked and groaned as it spun.
It was a good thing one of the Handymen sponsors had promised new laundry appliances. They were already sitting in their warehouse, waiting to be put into action.
Nick eyed the laundry room wall, wondering if they could knock it down and make the room bigger.
Michael’s wheels must have been turning at the same time. He leaned in toward Nick. “That wall has to come down.”
“Agreed. She shouldn’t have to squeeze into this tiny space to do laundry.”
Several other items were added to Nick’s to do list as they finished up their tour.
The reception area wasn’t as welcoming as it could be.
It needed a good paint job and the furniture needed an update.
The counter itself was a remnant from the nineteen-eighties, and was too big for the space.
They would fit Claire up with a new, sleek counter, one that suited the surroundings.
There was a lot of good light coming in from the windows, but the windows themselves needed to go.
Once they put new ones in, she’d see a reduction in her heating and cooling costs.
The place needed help, big time.
They ended the tour in her office, where Lacey confirmed what would be done and in what order.
Claire sat at her desk, and was quiet as Lacey spoke, absorbing it all.
“So,” said Lacey, “if there’s anything else on your wish list, now’s the time to tell us.”
Claire shook her head, a slight frown on her face.
Lacey reached across the desk and patted her hand. “I know. It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it? Most of our guests react the same way at first.”
“I just don’t know how to thank you all. It’s been…challenging.” She pasted on a smile.
Nick snuck a glance at the framed photo on the windowsill, the one of Claire and a good-looking blond man. Her husband, he guessed.
They’d been happy, really happy. Anyone could see it.
And anyone could see she’d been putting a good face on things at the sanctuary. He might not know much about Claire, but Nick assumed she was a hard worker and had likely worked herself ragged trying to keep the place afloat. It was probably down to her that Haven still existed at all.
“We’re here to help,” said Michael. “We know this will be a disruption, for the staff and the cats, but our team is good at this. We’ll move quickly but we won’t cut any corners.”
“I appreciate it,” said Claire. “Luckily, my volunteers know how to distract cats.”
“And we won’t do anything you don’t want us to do,” said Eli. “This is all about your vision.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“All right.” Lacey stood and rubbed her hands together. “I’d like to get some footage of the volunteers going about their daily business.”
“Awesome. I’ll hook you up with David. He’s been here the longest,” said Claire. “And, frankly, I think he’d love a few closeups.”
They all headed back outside. Lacey wanted to get some before segments done, so she sent Michael and Eli to get their makeup done first. As Lacey talked to David, Claire hung back near the entrance. Her sigh reached Nick’s ears. She stretched out her arms and took a few deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” Nick asked.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“I’m fine, just nervous. I’ve never been on TV before,” she admitted.
She was quiet for a few moments. Nick got the sense this wasn’t a case of TV-related nerves. Rather than bombarding her with questions, he kept his mouth shut and let her lead the conversation.
“Um,” said Claire. “Lacey said something about changing the paint color in the reception area. I’m kind of fond of the beige that’s there right now. Maybe we could color match it?”
“We could, but I’d recommend changing it. That shade of beige doesn’t exactly scream modern.”
“Hmm. And I know she wants to replace the eighties furniture, but maybe we could keep a few pieces? You know, for a retro vibe.”
Battered, old furnishings in a newly constructed reception area? It would make the place look unfinished.
When Nick had read Claire’s bio, one detail had stood out. She had a BFA in photography, so she probably had a good eye for detail. She would understand they were there to improve the place. Why was she being resistant to change?
Maybe this wasn’t about furniture and paint colors at all.
Maybe this had more to do with the blond guy in the photo.
It wasn’t Nick’s place to surmise.
She rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry. The idea of changing anything around this place gives me heart palpitations. I haven’t even painted so much as a single wall since Arthur died.”
“Arthur was your husband?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.” She dug the toe of her rubber boot in the gravel.
“I understand why you wouldn’t want to change things.”
She looked up, her face red and a flash in her eyes. “Do you understand?”
“I just mean…”
“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m glad Handymen is here, I really am. But my sister sort of sprang the idea on me, and I guess I’m still not quite adjusted to it.”
“Claire, we won’t change anything you don’t want changed. We can just refresh it. You have my word.” He gave her a half grin. “Even the beige walls.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m ready. Change is good. This is good.” She took another deep breath and said, more to herself than to Nick, “I can do this.”
“I have no doubt you can do anything you put your mind to.”
Her expression softened.
Something softened inside Nick as well. He felt for her. Of course, she wouldn’t want to make any big changes. The sanctuary was exactly as Arthur had left it, a shrine to a lost loved one.
There was something sacrilegious about dismantling a shrine.
They had to do their best to respect Claire’s wishes and keep her late husband’s vision alive, if that was what she wanted. They could still help her look forward to the future.
It should be a haven for her, not just for her feline customers.
Even though Nick had been eager to move on, suddenly he was enthusiastic about this project. Seeing just a hint of Claire’s vulnerability, which he assumed she didn’t show often, made him want to do a good job for her.
Plus, she was really cute in her T-shirt.
“You’ll see,” he said. “It’s going to be great. And, hey, maybe I’ll even make friends with Mortimer while we’re here.”
Claire’s lips twitched. “Right.”
“Yeah, who am I kidding? That cat hates me.”
The beginnings of a giggle rumbled in her chest. Her eyes widened, as if the happy noise had startled her. But before it turned into anything resembling a real laugh, she frowned, squashing her amusement.
Hmm. He didn’t like that.
He didn’t like that one bit.
She should feel free to laugh. Well, he’d been known to make a few people chuckle in his time.
He’d have to try again.