“Have you even met this dude?” Liam said.
“No,” Amelia said. “But I’ve seen him in the window. And he must be nice if he owns that many cats.”
In the end, just Liam had come along because Roshni was finally getting her hair streaked. It was her birthday present from a month and a half ago, and she’d been saving it while she agonized over what color to get.
The guy with the holey jeans and the lip stud was in his driveway, polishing the Mustang, when Liam and Amelia walked past.
“Drool away,” he yelled, and Liam hollered back, “Where did you get it? A scrapyard?”
Then they were in front of the cat house, only today there were no cats. “They must be inside,” Amelia said.
“Are you sure this is the right house?” Liam asked.
“Come on.”
She clutched the coupons with one hand and rang the doorbell with the other. The door opened so quickly that they both leaped back.
“You’re selling chocolate bars, right?” said the biggest, blackest man Amelia had ever seen. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off. He grinned. “For the Scouts.”
Amelia’s heart felt like it was pounding in her ears. “Not exactly. I mean, no.”
“I was just kidding.” The man leaned against the doorjamb while Amelia told him, her voice shaking, all about Duke’s Den and how she was trying to raise money by finding coupons for people.
She was nearing the end of her speech when a kitchen timer rang, and he said, “Back in a sec” and disappeared down a hallway.
“That is one seriously built guy,” Liam whispered. “He’s got muscles on top of muscles.”
Amelia wasn’t listening. She was kneeling down and stroking a gray cat and a black-and-white cat that were winding themselves around her legs.
Then the man was back. “Banana bread’s done,” he said. “That’s Mr. Mistoffelees and Skimbleshanks.”
“Cool names.” Amelia gave the gray cat one last pat and stood up.
“I got them from T.S. Eliot. He’s this poet who wrote a book about cats. My other cats are called Bustopher Jones, Rum Tum Tugger, Macavity, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer.”
“That’s amazing,” Amelia said.
“Now let me get this straight. You want me to take these coupons and give you half the money I save to help a sick tortoise?”
“That’s about it,” Liam said.
“This is for real?”
Amelia nodded.
“How do I know you’re legit?”
“Um…”
“Just kidding. Okay, why not? You look like nice kids.”
“Really?” Amelia said.
“Sure.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you pump iron by any chance, dude?” Liam said. “Or play football?”
“I’m a personal trainer. I’m Jordan, by the way.”
“I’m Amelia.”
“I’m Liam.”
“That’s settled then,” Jordan said.
“Well, thanks again.” Amelia handed Jordan the coupons. “We’ll come back in a few days.”
“Hey, Liam,” Jordan said. “Why don’t you come down to the gym, and I’ll get you started with something easy? Twenty-pounders.”
“Uh…” Liam stammered.
“Just kidding.” Jordan scooped up a tortoiseshell cat and closed the door.
“Now what?” said Liam. “How are we going to find the triplets lady?”
“Good question.” Amelia had seen the woman with the stroller six times now, but she had never seen her come out of a house or driveway. She usually went right past their house to the chain-link fence and then back again. So Amelia figured she had to live somewhere in the neighborhood. But where?
It was too hot to keep walking up and down the street, so they parked themselves in Amelia’s front yard. She went inside and brought out two cans of Coke.
“This is very boring,” Liam said when he had drained his can and squished it flat. “And pointless. We could be here all day hoping she’ll go by. Why don’t you come over to my house and we can play some games?”
Amelia thought computer games were boring too, but Duke was out and Gabriella finally had a day at the salon, so there was nothing else to do.
“Okay. But I’ll bring the coupons with me. Just in case.”