She searched all morning and half the afternoon but found nothing. She left the museum late in the afternoon, tired and very hungry. Discouraged, she didn’t catch the bus back across the bridge but took the Powell Mason cable car. Asking directions from the gray-haired driver, she got off at Union Square. She had a sandwich in a little cafe, then went shopping like any upperworld woman. She was back in the garden just after dark, feeling smug with her purchases, hiding her packages under Olive Cleaver’s back porch.
Reflections of tall grasses tangled through Melissa’s hair, shattered into angles by the rebounding light. Braden worked quickly, blocking in the canvas, excited by the emerging shadows, only absently aware that the cat was winding around his bare ankles.
She hadn’t come in until after dark, then had prowled the studio restlessly. Several times he had noticed her looking up at the walls, and for a long time she sat behind him as if watching him work. She was doing that again now. She had left his ankles and sat down behind him again, looking. Soon her scrutiny began to annoy him. He laid down his brush and turned to face her. “What the hell are you looking at? Why would a cat stare at a painting?”
She looked so startled he laughed—the little cat looked truly shocked. And when he laughed, her eyes widened. She ducked her head and began to wash herself.
Grinning, he picked her up and scratched behind her ears. “You’re a strange one. Pretty strange.” But it was later when he stopped to fry a hamburger that he began to worry about her.
She came running into the kitchen at the smell of cooking meat. She hadn’t touched her cat food. He realized she hadn’t eaten since she threw up the night before.
Maybe this brand of cat food didn’t agree with her. He cut up his hamburger to cool for her, and cooked himself another one. When hers was cool and he put it down, she wolfed it, ravenous.
But then in a little while she threw it up again. This was the second throw up, and she looked so miserable that he phoned Morian.
“Just on my way out, Brade. Let me run down.” In a minute she swished in, dressed to the teeth: sleek, honey-colored cocktail dress and strings of topaz and East Indian brass.
“Bring your date in, Mor.”
“He’s impatient—let him pace. He thinks it’s stupid to be concerned about a cat.” She knelt beside the couch stroking the calico, gently feeling down her sides, opening her mouth. She smelled the cat’s breath with a familiarity that made Braden grin. She felt the calico’s stomach, pressing carefully. Outside the glass her tall, dark-skinned date paced, glancing at his watch.
“Are you late for something?”
Morian shook her head. “He thinks we are.” She stroked the little cat. “I can’t see anything wrong. They’ll throw up sometimes when they’re pregnant.”
“When they’re what?”
“Pregnant, Brade. You know, it’s when they—”
“Oh, Christ!”
“It happens, Brade
“What the hell am I going to do with a batch of kittens?”
“If she doesn’t feel better by tomorrow, you’d better take her to the vet.” She stood up and chucked him under the chin. “They’ll be sweet, Brade. Sweet kittens.”
He walked out with her and met her date, who stopped pacing long enough to shake hands. This was the boyfriend who worked for the
Give a couple to Morian, he supposed, a couple to Olive. Give one to Melissa—maybe it could learn to like her.
She slept close to him that night, curled beside the pillow, her head tucked against his cheek. He kept his arm around her protectively, and she remained cat with difficulty. Lying wakeful, she wanted to change to woman, wanted to snuggle next to him as a woman.
In the morning she was still cat, sleeping beside him. She was proud of her control. He let her out and, on the veranda, arranged the table and chairs, preparing to paint Melissa there. She watched him from up the garden where she had climbed into a low acacia tree. When he seemed to be growing impatient she headed for Olive’s back porch, and beneath it she changed to girl. With some difficulty she put on one of the new outfits from City of Paris, wishing she had a proper place to bathe and make herself look nice. She went down the garden dressed in the new gathered turquoise skirt and green blouse, and she felt a sharp excitement in the way he looked at her.
