'Too late for a drink?' I asked. 'Too early?'
'I'd drink muscatel from a dog bowl right now.'
'Settle for a whiskey sour?'
Latham nodded.
I went into the kitchen, frowned at the gigantic mess, and built two serviceable highballs. Latham stood in the living room, his jacket off. A good sign.
'Do you like it here?' he asked, as I handed him his drink.
'Here with you?'
'Here in this apartment. I know you don't really like the neighborhood, and I know some -- well -- bad things happened here.'
'I guess I never really thought about it. Why do you ask?'
He smiled; a little-boy smile tinged with mischief.
'I just bought a condo on the lake. Big place, plenty of room, killer view.'
'That's great.' I took a sip of my drink. 'What about the house?'
'Sold. Move in with me, Jack.'
Before I had a chance to answer, I noticed Mr. Friskers perched on top of my television, ready to pounce.
'Latham, don't move.'
'But I have to move, I signed the papers--'
'Shh.' I put my finger to my lips. 'It's the cat. He looks like he's about to jump on you.'
'Hey, I like cats. If you want to bring a cat along, that's fine with -- Jesus Christ!'
Mr. Friskers launched through the air like a calico missile and attached himself to Latham's face, all four claws locking in.
Latham screamed something, but I couldn't hear it through the fur. I grabbed the cat and gently tried to tug him free. Latham's reaction was muffled, but came through.
'No! Stop pulling! Stop pulling!'
I let go, frantic. On the floor, next to the sofa, was the catnip mouse I'd bought at the pet store. I picked it up and held it under the cat's nose.
'Good kitty. Let go of his face. Let go of his face, kitty.'
Mr. Friskers sniffed once, twice, then went totally limp. I carried him into the bathroom, keeping the catnip up to his nose, and then set both of them down in the bathtub and locked the door.
I found Latham in the kitchen, liberally applying paper towels.
'Oh, wow, are you okay, Latham?'
He forced a smile.
'I may need a transfusion.'
'I'm sorry. I should have warned you.'
'I thought it was illegal to keep mountain lions as pets.'
I gave him the short version, helping him dab at his wounds. They weren't as bad as Herb's, so perhaps Mr. Friskers was mellowing down.
'So you're not keeping him?'
'Not if I can help it.'
'Good. I mean, if he was part of the package, I'd accept him. But I wouldn't want to take off my pants with him in the room.'
I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn't sure what to say. Moving in with Latham would be great. He was right -- I didn't like the neighborhood, and I didn't like my apartment, and having him to hold every night would go a long way toward helping my insomnia.
But instead of focusing on all of that, I focused on my mom, stranded on the floor of her bathroom.
'Latham, I'd love to move in with you--'
'That's great!'
'--but I can't. When my mom gets out of the hospital, she's coming to live with me.'
I winced, watching the disappointment slowly seep into his face.
'The condo only has one bedroom.'
My guard went up. 'Latham, I didn't ask if my mother could move into your condo.'
'I know. I mean, I'd want her to, if she's with you, but the place is only one bedroom. There wouldn't be any room for her.'
