After they ordered lunch, Ivy asked, “So how is the cat?”
“A menace, as usual.”
Ivy smirked as if she didn’t believe a word of what Julie was saying.
“He is,” she insisted. “He hasn’t warmed up to me at all.AndI had to get him out of a tree the day before yesterday. Well, Nolan did.”
Ivy raised her eyebrows suggestively. “Nolan, you say?”
“It was his own fault the cat was up there. His dog chased him up.”
“Uh-huh.”
Julie glared. “Don’t ask me why they were on Gram’s property. I mean, I guess their lodgeisright next door, and with the inn closed—and soon to be his—he’s probably used to having the run of the area…”
Ivy leaned her chin on one hand. “And now that you’ve met him again, what do you think?”
“I think his dog is obnoxious.”
Actually, she didn’t. When the cat wasn’t around, Snowball acted like a perfect gentlewoman. “And he is full of unwanted advice, especially about outerwear.”
Ivy laughed loudly, drawing the stares of several people in the café. “He hasn’t changed that much, I guess.”
Julie couldn’t help but smile back. “No, I guess not.”
Though he had definitely grown up.
As Lucy arrived with the food and Julie’s coffee, Ivy fished through her purse. “Actually, speaking of the cat, I brought a present for him.” She pulled out a toy, this one a ball with what looked like a bell on the inside.
Julie couldn’t even imagine the amount of noise the cat would make with it. It was sweet of Ivy to bring a gift. “Thank you.” She said the same to Lucy, who left them to their conversation.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” Ivy asked.
“You mean ‘menace’ isn’t acceptable?”
Ivy laughed around a bite of her club sandwich. She held her hand in front of her mouth as she chewed and swallowed. “I think you should. Give him a name, I mean. We can’t keep calling him The Cat.”
“I’m waiting for Myrtle to call with an opening at the shelter,” Julie reminded her.
“If he’s such a menace, you’re not in danger of getting attached.” Ivy took another bite, chewed, and swallowed before she said, “Why not call him Kringle?”
“Kringle?”
“For the holiday season.”
Julie thought for a second about how the white cat would look, tangled up in Christmas lights. She couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, fine. You win. We’ll call him Kringle.For now.”
Her mouth was full when another woman, close to ninety if her stooped posture and shuffling gait were any indication, shouted loud enough to wake the dead.
“Lucy, I still have hands. I still have feet. I can serve my customers. Or are you trying to make me older than I already am?”
Julie bit her lip to keep from snickering. It was exactly the sort of thing Gram would say.
The old woman—and if Julie squinted, she could almost make out a familiarity in the woman’s face from her visits to Pinecone Falls during the summers—took the carafe from Lucy’s hands and turned away. She wore thick glasses and a smug, if friendly, smile as she turned toward those seated at the nearest table, only two away from where Ivy and Julie were seated. She topped off both their cups without asking whether they wanted a refill.
Julie leaned forward and whispered to Ivy, “I thought Lucy was the owner now.”
“Yes, but she had to wrestle the business out of her mother’s hands. Maura did not want to retire.”
