“Uncle Nick, it’s not — cold out, so why did you get Aunt Ashley — a scarf?”
Dan stopped beside Nick’s car and snickered. He had a good idea about the motivation behind the purchase but couldn’t resist ribbing his friend. “Yeah, Uncle Nick? What’s with the scarf?”
“It’s pretty,” said Nick, opening the door to his vintage Mustang convertible. “Hop in, kiddo. I like getting my wife surprises once in a while. Don’t you think it’s pretty, Bella?”
“It’s — blue. I liked — the red one.”
“Hmm… You know, I like red, too. That’s why my car’s red. But Ashley, now… she likes blue. A lot. So I thought I’d get the color she likes.”
Dan opened the door and felt for the back of the seat. Pushing it forward, he urged Jack into the rear or the car. Then he flipped the seat into place and dropped into the front. “Get your seatbelt on, Bella.” He paused, listening for the telltale click. When it came, he pulled his own belt over his shoulder.
The high-pitched whine and the rustle of vinyl signaled that Nick was lowering the convertible top.
“You know, you’d be ahead of the game if you brought home a surprise or two,” murmured his friend as the car roared to life.
“Hey, I got everything on the list Ashley texted you for Trish.” Dan frowned. He had considered picking up a gift, but he hadn’t been able to figure out what to get.
“A guy can never go wrong with flowers,” murmured Nick, apparently reading Dan’s mind. “Or jewelry, depending on the extent of the offense.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I probably hit the platinum and diamonds level on the offense-o-meter when I let Bella bring home the kitten.”
Nick was silent for a bit, probably maneuvering the car.
Dan shifted slightly in his seat with every turn. It had taken him months to get used to riding in a car without drifting to one side or the other every time the driver made a turn. He’d never considered how much of a role seeing the world around him played in his ability to remain upright.
“You know, I don’t think you’re at platinum and diamonds,” Nick mused after the car stopped twisting and turning. “In fact, I have a feeling you and Bella could get away with spending a little time making something. Ash has these kits in the shop. The tourists go nuts for ‘em. It’s just some kind of black silk cord and you add things to it like beads and charms.”
Dan’s jaw dropped as the words tumbled from Nick’s mouth. “Did you just say all that like the dude on DIY Art?”
“Nope.” Nick cleared his throat. “And the name of that TV show didn’t just roll off your tongue, either.”
Cocking his head to one side, Dan waited expectantly.
“Okay, okay.” Nick chuckled. “At the risk of my marriage I’ll follow the guy code. Ash may have texted me with the idea. She thought getting Bella involved might be a nice touch… being as the kitten was kind of her idea.” He sighed. “And she told me where to find them in the gallery.”
Dan sighed. It actually was a good idea. Trish was a sucker for everything Bella gave her, but she especially loved the handmade gifts. Even, as it had turned out, the Bella-style embellishment of seashells their daughter had glued onto ribbons which she’d then tied to Trish’s wedding gown just before she’d walked down the aisle.
“Let’s do it!”
“Wa-a-ay ahead of you, man. We’ll be at the gallery in about five minutes.”
****
Mid-afternoon sun peeked through the window over the sink and danced along the row of cut glass vases filled with multicolored marbles. For the second time in as many days, Trish sat with her feet up while someone else worked in her kitchen. With a grand flourish, Ashley dragged the sponge along the sparkling granite countertop and then dropped it into its holder next to the cold-water tap.
“All finished,” she declared, whirling about and spreading her arms like a magician who’d just performed a magic trick.
Which she pretty much had, admitted Trish, a little awestruck at the transformation from disaster zone to her customary neat and cozy kitchen. Ashley had to be the most organized disorganized person she’d ever met. She hadn’t done a thing the way Trish would have. Instead of completing one task and then moving on to another, she had conquered one portion of the room at a time.
Whatever works!
“When are our happy shoppers due back?” asked Trish, lowering her feet from where they were propped on a kitchen chair.
“I’m not sure.” Ashley shifted her gaze to the view through the window.
“Oh, come on.” A chuckle burst from Trish’s lips. “Either you’ve got a boyfriend or you’ve been sending Nick updates via text.”
Ashley’s face turned pink. “Not exactly updates.”
“Well, you’ve been texting something every ten minutes or so.”
Ashley’s phone chimed and her face went from delicate rose to cherry red, but she didn’t look at her phone.
“Aren’t you going to check that?”
“Maybe later,” muttered Ashley, stalking to the refrigerator. “Got anything to drink in here?”
Trish narrowed her eyes. Something was up, but she had no idea what it could be. Why would Ashley ignore a text— “Oh crap! You’re sexting!” Excitement twined with discomfort for an all-new level of weird. “You’re texting sex messages to your husband!”
“Not… exactly.” Ashley sighed. “We aren’t getting raunchy or anything. Just making little notes of things we want to do… you know… later.”
Laughter rolled past Trish’s lips and she clung to the table, helpless to stop it. “You realize that stuff is all out there in the ether now, right?”
“Give us a little credit, Trish.” Ashley planted her hands on her hips. “One, we really aren’t saying anything gross. Two, we delete the messages so they aren’t on our phones in case they get lost.”
“But the phone company keeps a record of texts.” Trish couldn’t imagine allowing anyone to be privy to such a personal type of conversation. “And with Nick’s security clearance, aren’t you afraid it’ll be monitored?”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “Oh, please! If the NSA wants to worry about where I plan to kiss my husband later tonight, let them have fun with it. Life’s too short not to have fun. And this is fun. And it’s partly Dan’s fault.”
Trish stopped laughing. “I can guarantee you Dan and I don’t even text message let along sext.”
“Yeah, well, apparently our guys had a little talk on the way home one day about sex in the dark.” She grinned. “You know, blind sex?”
Trish’s jaw dropped. Okay, this day was just going from weird to bizarre.
“You know guys talk the same way we do, right?”
“I didn’t think it would be so… detailed. I don’t believe this,” she muttered.
“Don’t believe what?” Dan’s bulk filled the open back door. He stepped inside, his mouth set in a sheepish grin, his hands clutching a colorful bouquet of fragrant lilies and daisies and freesias.
Bella’s laughter filtered in from the yard. Trish’s heart swelled and she smiled. Her family had returned.
Trish stood and ambled over to her husband. As she draped her arms around his neck, she whispered in his ear, “I am the luckiest woman alive.”
Dan’s arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her against him in a tight but careful hug.
“Hi, Mama!” Her arms laden with gray and gold plastic bags from Gold Mart, Bella squeezed past Dan and pushed herself between them. “Where is — Wally?”
At the thought of the furry little monster, Trish shuddered. But rather than hurt Bella’s feelings, she smiled and pointed to the laundry room. “He went behind the dryer and won’t come out.”
“We got — him lots of — good stuff.” Standing on her tiptoes, Bella dropped the plastic bags with their newly purchased treasures on the counter. Grinning, she pushed her glasses up higher on her nose and continued her chatter as she galloped for the laundry room. “He has a collar and — a cat carrier to — take him to — the v-vet?”
Vet? “The what? Take him to the what? The vet?” Trish narrowed her gaze on Dan again. “And who exactly is going to take the cat to the vet?”
“We are,” said Nick, easing through the door. He slid Ashley one of his engaging boyish grins. “We can do that, right, babe?”
“Su-ure.” Her intense stare and feral smile promised trouble.
“No, it’s okay,” said Trish quickly. “I’ll get him taken care of. He should have a checkup and his shots.”
Ashley brushed at some invisible speck on her arm then raised her eyes to regard her husband. “And neutered. He should definitely be neutered.”
Trish shuddered and poor Nick paled. “Hey, look at the time. I brought you a present.”
Ashley made an exaggerated show of looking at Nick’s empty hands and arched a delicate brow.
“It’s in the car,” he mumbled, shifting his feet as though suddenly finding himself on hot coals.
Dan opened his mouth but whatever he’d been about to say was interrupted by Bella’s cry of distress. Trish whirled about but Dan was already halfway to the little annex with Nick right on his heels.
“Bella?” Trish called, cursing beneath her breath as she waddled across the kitchen floor. “Sweetie, what is it?”
“Wally won’t come — out of — the wall,” wailed Bella.
“Wha-at?” Confusion pinched Trish’s brow into a frown. “Honey, he’s behind the dryer. He can’t get into the wall—” A giant block of white metal stood before her – Nick had dragged the dryer from the wall. She pulled up short just before she hit it. Carefully, she edged around the side then made room for Dan and Ashley to squeeze into the room.
Nick stood with his mouth agape staring at the space behind it. “Uh…”
“What is it, man?” asked Dan.
“Uh,” repeated Nick, pulling a hand down his mouth and shaking his head.
“Wally? Wally… come — here kitty,” called Bella, peering into the shredded remnants of the vinyl dryer vent hose.
“Un-believable!” muttered Trish. “And where exactly is the kitten?”
Bella held the tube up, her blue eyes wide with worry. One black leg wiggled as it frantically sought purchase in midair. His fuzzy tail whipped back and forth. The rest of him was nowhere to be seen, jammed up inside the tube. Suddenly he stopped squirming and Trish’s breath caught. Had he died? Faint distressed mewing came from inside the tube and the kitten began his wild struggles again.
“Do — something!” shrieked Bella.
Dan’s sigh was a combination of impatience and frustration, and Trish realized she’d been holding her breath when she normally would have described the scene to him.
“Wally’s pulled apart the dryer tube and climbed inside,” she said, completely at a loss for what to do next. “He’s really stuck.”
“Do you have a knife? I can try cutting him out,” suggested Nick.
“No!” screamed Bella. “You can hurt — him.”
Trish balanced herself on the top of the dryer and leaned over. The kitten had stopped swishing his tail but his foot still offered a feeble kick every so often. What were they going to do? She needed to reassure her daughter but no words formed. She could only stare.
Bella whimpered.
“Don’t cry, sweetie,” murmured Dan. “You’ll scare Wally. Try to keep him calm by talking to him and telling him we’ll get him out of this fix, okay?”
“Dan, his head has to be in the metal cuff that attaches at the wall,” said Nick softly. “I can try to cut him free but he doesn’t have much wiggle room.” He grazed the plastic with his finger. “And this plastic’s thick. I can’t see through it so I’m not sure exactly where he is.”
“Here’s a box cutter.” Ashley edged into the room, a utility knife in her hand. “We have to try something.”
“Daddy can — do it,” insisted Bella, with the confidence of a child in the throes of hero worship.
Dan jerked upright, clearly startled. Trish opened her mouth to protest but the words stuck in her throat.
“Show me what’s happening,” said Dan, his voice resolute.
Trish stepped next to him and guided him closer to the distressed girl with the feebly struggling kitten. He crouched and ran his fingers over the end of the tube, wincing when one of the claws caught his thumb. But he continued his exploration, running his hands along the tube until he hit the wall. Then he eased his touch until just his fingertips rested on the white tubing.
“Okay…” He sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, I got this. Give me the knife.”
Ashley caught her breath. “Danny…”
Trish shook her head at Ashley. She recognized that expression of determination that had settled over Dan’s face. He wouldn’t even attempt rescuing the cat if he didn’t believe he could do it.
“I got this.” He punctuated his assertion with a sharp nod of his head.
Nick lowered himself to the floor next to Dan. With his thumb, he pushed the button along the top of the box cutter and slid the blade from the sheath. After the barest hint of hesitation, he placed the knife in Dan’s palm.
Dan adjusted his hold and set the sharp tip against the flexible plastic. He touched the fingertips of his other hand to the hose near the wall. Not even a sliver of white tubing showed between his fingers and the blade.
“Nick, can you grab the tube around Bella’s hands and hold it steady?” asked Dan, speaking softly but in a conversational tone, as though he was setting up a board game.
Trish pressed her hand hard into her mouth, afraid to cry out in case she distracted him. Please don’t let him cut himself. Her ability to breathe ceased, as fear trapped the air in her lungs. With gentle precision, Dan made a small cut in the hose. It was no more than an inch, but spikes of black fur poked out. The kitten was wedged tightly against the plastic. Nick hadn’t been exaggerating about having no wiggle room. No margin for error…
With his mouth set in a line and his brow furrowed in concentration, Dan continued cutting. As he pulled the knife along one of the ridges, he inserted his thumb into the growing gap and widened it.
He was about halfway around the tubing when he hissed in a sharp breath. Trish’s heart alternately pounded and fluttered against her breastbone. Baby Conway pushed hard against her ribs. Had Dan cut himself?
“You okay?” murmured Nick.
“Bit me,” said Dan through clenched teeth. He dropped the knife to the floor with a clatter and grasped the cut edge of the tubing. In one quick motion, he spread his hands and tore the remainder of the tubing away from the wall coupling.
The troublesome kitten poked his head through the opening and drew himself out of the tube. With an indignant meow, he wound around Bella where she knelt in front of Nick.
“Wally!” cried Bella, gathering the baby in her arms as she stood. With soft crooning sounds, she walked toward the door.
“Oh man,” said Nick with an edgy chuckle. “You just rescued a Wally in the Wall.”
The tension slid from Dan’s face and he laughed, pushing to his feet.
It was too much. It had been too much. Blind men didn't rescue cats from walls! Why were they laughing? Trish backed out of the suddenly suffocating laundry room. Lightheaded as the air rushed back into her lungs, she clutched at the kitchen table.
“Hey, Trish?” Ashley was suddenly next to her. “What’s going on? You all right?”
After a few deep breaths, Trish felt more like herself. “I’m good.” She chuckled. “I think I forgot to breathe.”
Dan stepped into the kitchen and unerringly zeroed in on Trish, closing the distance between then in two sure strides. He wrapped her in a loose embrace and laid his forehead against hers. From the outside, he probably looked like he was offering comfort, but his hands trembled where they rested at the small of her back, and his breathing was quick and shallow.
“Wally is — hungry,” announced Bella, sniffing noses with the kitten. She zipped the top off a foil packet of cat food and squeezed the contents into a blue bowl labeled Kitty.
Where had that come from? Trish’s gaze wandered over to the counter. Oh yeah, the store.
A refrain of snarls and growls emerged from Wally as he stuck his nose into the bowl of cat food and began scarfing it down.
“How did you do that, Danny?” whispered Ashley.
“It was nothing.” He drew away from Trish and gave a sheepish shrug. “I could feel the kitten’s body heat through the plastic.”
Apparently content to let the kitten eat in peace, Bella trotted over and leaned against Dan with a loud sigh. “Daddy feels everything with — his hands and — with his — heart.”
“So that’s your secret,” murmured Trish as her balance returned. She kissed the corner of Dan’s mouth. “Not heat-felt…heartfelt.”