Page 46 of My Husband Problem

Patty swats his arm. “You don’t have to makeallof the produce sound dirty.”

“Itisall dirty,” he says. “It’s literally outside in the dirt.” He winks at me again, then tells Patty. “But your tomatoes really are the nicest in town.”

She blushes, but I swear I don’t notice anything in his tone that sounds even slightly suggestive. “You had your chance at my tomatoes sophomore year in high school, and you decided to date Donna instead. Too bad.”

Wilson just chuckles. “Come on. I’ve got sweet tea.”

Patty steps past me and follows Wilson into the house before I can say anything.

Like, remind them both that this isAstrid’shouse.

But then, as far as I know, Wilson made the sweet tea in Astrid’s fridge, and they do this every day.

I sigh and shut the door.

When I join them in the kitchen, Patty hands me the bag she’s been carrying and leans in to stroke Oscar’s head. He’s awake now, but still in the sling around Wilson.

“I also grow cat grass and catnip,” Patty says.

Oscar closes his eyes and lifts his head toward Patty’s touch.

“He likes you too?” I ask.

Patty looks up at me with surprise. “Of course.” She pauses. “Does he not like you?”

“I’m getting hissed at,” I admit.

“Well, that makes sense. This poor boy has spent his life without a home or a family. Astrid is the first one to give him both. She’s his whole world. He only trusts us because Astrid hasshown him he can. But then, none of us are trying to take his place.” She gives me a smile. “You’re different.”

“I’m not trustworthy?

“You want to cuddle up and have Astrid talk sweetly to you and giveyoukisses and pets.”

I looked down at the cat. He’s not wrong. I suppose I should give the guy a break.

“I keep telling her that he needs a cat friend,” Patty says, pulling out a chair at the table and taking a seat. “Cats do best in colonies. She is his entire community. If he had another cat, he would be less clingy. When I cat sit, he does so well with my cats.”

“You have cats?”

“Five of them. And then I foster. And I cat sit.”

I give in and take the seat across from her. Wilson pours iced tea for all of us and joins us.

“When you cat sit, the other cats come to your house?” I ask.

“If possible. If it’s multiple days. But I’ll stop by other houses as needed.” She lifts her tea and takes a sip, then sets her glass down and asks, “Do you know the secret to being a crazy cat lady, Declan?”

“I don’t. What is it?”

“Not giving a shit what other people think or say about you.” She gives me a wide grin. “But then, that’s the key to being happy about just about everything.”

I think about that. “You know what I think?” I ask her.

“What’s that?”

“That I’ve spent a lot of years not caring what people say and think of me, but I haven’t beenhappythe way you seem to be.” I glance at Wilson. “The way you both seem to be.”

“Oh, sure,” Patty says. “You have to find the cats in your ‘crazy cat lady’ first, and then you need to gocrazyabout it.”