“Oh, honey, I love it! Look at this crown molding, this fireplace, this wooden flooring!” I glanced over at my tall, dark, and handsome husband, who was rolling his eyes patronizingly at the beaming realtor.
“I don’t think she likes it,” he said, shrugging.
“Stop!” I squealed and wrapped my arms around him. Finally, after years in the smog and traffic, we were making the leap to the suburbs. Upstate New York. Where our children could play inside their white picket fence, the dog could play Frisbee in the yard, and if there wasn’t an ice cream truck, maybe I could volunteer a couple of days a week. Adam and I had been married for eight years, living the American dream, or grind. This house was our dream, our future. I would raise children in this house, bake cookies for the grandchildren, and eventually grow too old to tend the vegetable and rose garden. It was perfect.
“Well, it is move-in ready,” smiled the realtor. “I’m sure you will be very happy here. The school system is quite excellent, I’m told. And the train station is only a fifteen-minute walk.”
I took Adam’s hand and we walked again through the living room and kitchen. Then back up the stairs. There was a table here, a lamp there. The odd painting hanging crooked on the wall.
“How long has this place been empty?” asked Adam, pointing out a few cobwebs in the corner.
“Oh, maybe a few months. You know with the economy and all,” the realtor replied.
Adam nodded.
“And the few belongings?” I asked.
“They come with the house, dear. The owner is not interested.”
Adam and I looked at each other again. He took both my hands and kissed me. “If you want it, it’s yours.”
“Are you sure we can afford it? Really?” I asked, just wanting to hear one more time it was going to be ours.
“Yes, honey. We can even afford the cat,” he smiled.
“What cat?” I frowned at him.
“The one on the window sill,” he pointed.
I looked over the kitchen sink and, sure enough, there was a dark gray cat peering in the window at us.
“Oh my god,” I cried and ran out the patio door. “Here kitty, kitty,” I called, getting down on my knees and beckoning him. The cat gave me a curt meow, jumped down, and began rubbing and purring against my leg. I picked him up, and he nestled into my neck. I walked back inside with him. “Is this a neighbor’s cat?” I asked the realtor.
“No, I wouldn’t think so. The next two houses are vacant as well. I expect he will be yours.”
I grinned at Adam. Perfect. Just perfect.
The movers came the following week, and after a day of sifting through boxes, I was ready to flake out on my bed that was still just a mattress on the floor. That Adam had meetings he could not miss had not escaped my notice, but I could hardly blame him for avoiding the tediousness of unpacking boxes.
Simon, my new furry four-legged buddy, and I had it all under control anyway. That cat followed me around everywhere. He watched me unpack boxes, wipe away the cobwebs, and take the old pictures and furniture to the curb. Oddly enough, for how sweet and attentive he was with me, he despised Adam. Simon would hiss and screech when Adam—Adam basically just chose to ignore him. Adam was so good-natured that he would just tell Simon to get ready for the Doberman he was bringing home one of these days. I would laugh and Simon would glare.
That night, I lay stretched out on our bed, exhausted. Adam showered and came into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He raised his eyebrows at me.
“You’ve got to be kidding! I’m exhausted, and I still feel like I’m covered in packing paper dust.” I half-joked. “While you were sitting in cushy leather chairs in a conference room all day, eating bagels and pastries, I was hauling boxes and finding your coffee maker.”
“And so it begins,” he teased, dropping the towel and pulling on his boxers. He jumped on top of me anyway and kissed my neck. I wrapped my arms around him and nestled into his warmth and delicious just-showered smell. Just as I felt his hands move slowly down my now-waking body, a terrible chill fell over the room. It was like a freezer door had just been opened in our bedroom.
“Did you leave a window open somewhere?” I asked, shivering despite his body against mine.
“No, I don’t think so, but am I not warming you up?” he murmured into my neck.
I couldn’t stand the chill. I pushed against him back a little. “I need to check. Seriously, it’s freezing.”
“OK, OK,” he sighed. “I will.” He moved just off me and let out a sudden yell of pain. “What the hell?”
I bolted upright as Simon hissed and jumped off the bed. Adam sat on the edge of the bed with three long scratch marks bleeding ever so slightly across his chest. “You see what that damn cat did?”
I stared in shock. “Did you roll on him or something?”
“Are you seriously defending that mangy thing?” Adam was furious. He got up and headed to the bathroom. Feeling a little guilty, I tossed off the covers and followed him in there to make sure he was OK. Just past the doorway, I saw Simon sitting in the hallway, washing his face. I got some antiseptic out of the medicine cabinet and gently rubbed Adam’s chest after he had washed.
“I’m not defending him, honey,” I kissed Adam softly. “I think it was just an accident.”
Adam looked at me strangely. He slowly
