in there, but rented. I was promised peace and quiet, but it’s a bit too quiet. They neglected to turn on my phone,” he said wryly. “Do you mind if I use yours? My cell phone battery seems to have died as well.
“By the way, my name is Carl Wilson. I’m a writer and came here trying to beat a deadline.” He extended his hand to Susan who grasped it firmly.
As their hands touched, they both looked straight into the other’s eyes. Susan jumped back, uttering a soft exclamation. Carl also registered surprise but turned instead to Miss Harper, who was watching the two of them with keen interest, her blue eyes sparkling, her lips smiling merrily.
“The phone is right over here,” she said, beckoning to him.
He came forward reaching for the phone book, but stopped and grimaced, trying to control a sneeze.
Achoo!
It was a big one.
Achoo, achoo, achoo .
He reached for his handkerchief and blew his nose noisily.
“Goodness, you must have a cold coming on,” Miss Harper said. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll make you a cup of my lemon-thyme tea. It’s the very best treatment for colds,” she promised.
Achoo, achoo . Carl stepped backward toward the door. Achoo . “You must have a cat around here somewhere,” he managed to say between bouts of sneezing. “I’m allergic.”
Amused, Susan thought it best to confess. “No, Miss Harper’s cat is only porcelain,” she said quietly with her head turned away. “Miss Harper’s a bit hard of hearing and might not be able to understand you unless you face her when you talk. I’m certain she can’t tell what you’re saying as long as you hold your handkerchief in front of your face.”
“That may be, but there’s a cat around here somewhere, I can guarantee it.” Carl reached the front door and stepped outside, leaving behind a faint, but tantalizing fragrance of spicy male shaving lotion.
“Please make my apologies to Miss Harper,” he said, walking quickly away.
Susan heard him sneezing all the way down the sidewalk until he reentered his rental home next door.
“What a nice young man,” Miss Harper said. “Too bad he couldn’t stay a bit longer, but I imagine that cold of his has him feeling a bit down. I’ll brew up some of my tea and take it over to him later.” She went into the kitchen and put her kettle on to boil. “Now let’s have at least one more chapter before you go, shall we, dear?”
“Oh, sure.” Susan sat down and readied herself to begin reading. She glanced up once to gaze at Miss Harper’s feet and was surprised to see the orange china cat no longer resting there.
She moved it when I wasn’t looking , Susan thought, and turned back to a story by Dorothy Gilman about a lady on an adventure.
An hour later, she tiptoed out, trying not to wake her friend who had dozed halfway through the latest chapter. She guessed adventures in the pyramids weren’t as exciting as they used to be, although she knew Miss Harper was of an age to need a catnap now and then.
In deep thought, Susan slowly followed the sidewalk to her own home. Both her parents had passed, her mother only recently, and she was still trying to decide whether to sell the house or live in it herself. She didn’t know if she could leave while Miss Harper still needed her friendship.
As long as Susan could remember, she had run next door for some reason or other, always welcomed with a smile from her friend and usually fed a cookie before she left. She was as close to a family as Susan had left.
She chuckled thinking of Carl Wilson and his sneezes. It must have been the power of suggestion when he saw the fat porcelain cat. If only he knew , she thought with a giggle. Miss Harper’s house not only had one china cat, but was full of a collection of many cats—all porcelain! She had no idea what the count was up to now. When she was a little girl, Miss Harper would give her a soft cloth and she would delight in dusting all the cats lined up