10. Declan #3
Patty rolls her eyes, but she smiles. “I have tomatoes for you too. But I’m not handing them over until I get zucchini.”
I look back and forth between them. “You trade produce?”
“Of course,” Wilson says.
“I grow better tomatoes than Wilson, and that leaves more room in his garden for the zucchini plants.”
“My zucchini are huge,” Wilson says with a wink.
“And then we both give to Maryann so she has lots of space for the strawberry plants,” Patty says. “And she can put up with the snakes.” She shudders.
Wilson nods. “Maryann has great strawberries.”
Patty swats his arm. “You don’t have to make all of the produce sound dirty.”
“It is all dirty,” he says. “It’s literally outside in the dirt.” He winks at me again, then tells Patty. “But your tomatoes really are the nicest in town.”
She blushes, but I swear I don’t notice anything in his tone that sounds even slightly suggestive. “You had your chance at my tomatoes sophomore year in high school, and you decided to date Donna instead. Too bad.”
Wilson just chuckles. “Come on. I’ve got sweet tea.”
Patty steps past me and follows Wilson into the house before I can say anything.
Like, remind them both that this is Astrid’s house.
But then, as far as I know, Wilson made the sweet tea in Astrid’s fridge, and they do this every day.
I sigh and shut the door.
When I join them in the kitchen, Patty hands me the bag she’s been carrying and leans in to stroke Oscar’s head. He’s awake now, but still in the sling around Wilson.
“I also grow cat grass and catnip,” Patty says.
Oscar closes his eyes and lifts his head toward Patty’s touch.
“He likes you too?” I ask.
Patty looks up at me with surprise. “Of course.” She pauses. “Does he not like you?”
“I’m getting hissed at,” I admit.
“Well, that makes sense. This poor boy has spent his life without a home or a family. Astrid is the first one to give him both. She’s his whole world. He only trusts us because Astrid has shown him he can. But then, none of us are trying to take his place.” She gives me a smile. “You’re different.”
“I’m not trustworthy?
“You want to cuddle up and have Astrid talk sweetly to you and give you kisses and pets.”
I looked down at the cat. He’s not wrong. I suppose I should give the guy a break.
“I keep telling her that he needs a cat friend,” Patty says, pulling out a chair at the table and taking a seat. “Cats do best in colonies. She is his entire community. If he had another cat, he would be less clingy. When I cat sit, he does so well with my cats.”
“You have cats?”
“Five of them. And then I foster. And I cat sit.”
I give in and take the seat across from her. Wilson pours iced tea for all of us and joins us.
“When you cat sit, the other cats come to your house?” I ask.
“If possible. If it’s multiple days. But I’ll stop by other houses as needed.” She lifts her tea and takes a sip, then sets her glass down and asks, “Do you know the secret to being a crazy cat lady, Declan?”
“I don’t. What is it?”
“Not giving a shit what other people think or say about you.” She gives me a wide grin. “But then, that’s the key to being happy about just about everything.”
I think about that. “You know what I think?” I ask her.
“What’s that?”
“That I’ve spent a lot of years not caring what people say and think of me, but I haven’t been happy the way you seem to be.” I glance at Wilson. “The way you both seem to be.”
“Oh, sure,” Patty says. “You have to find the cats in your ‘crazy cat lady’ first, and then you need to go crazy about it.”
I nod. “Yeah, I agree.” I think about my siblings.
All of them are wildly crazy right now. Finally.
I’ve been funding their lives for years and they’ve all been happy, but they haven’t been crazy happy until recently.
They’ve found their true passions—an animal park, huge green energy innovations, family program initiatives—and they’ve fallen in love.
With partners they share those passions with and with communities of people who help them make those things realities.
I’m also extremely grateful my grandfather sees that. And wants that for me and Astrid.
I just need to convince him that we can have that together.
Right after I convince her of that.
“Do you think you know what your cats might be?” Patty asks.
Astrid.
That’s the first thing that comes to mind.
I haven’t been as passionate about anything as I am about her and her happiness.
But now that I’m here, in this town, in this new life and world of hers, I’m getting a sense that there might be a new level here to all of it.
She’s right here. Right in front of me. Right here in this town.
I’ve been giving her space, time, whatever life she wants to have, because I need her to be happy.
But what if we can both be happy? Together. About the same things.
I look up at the gaudy yellow flower clock on the wall and smile. Not even twenty-four hours in, and my outlook is already more colorful.
“Yeah, I think I know exactly what my ‘cats’ are,” I say.
“Good,” she tells me with a pleased smile. “Then just find a way to be crazy about it.”
Not a problem.