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“Exactly. Plus, I feel Cat is short for Catherine, which doesn’t exactly fit his personality. What about you? If you had a cat, what would you name it?”
He leads me outside and closes the big doors. He watches them lower before answering. “For some reason, Norman comes to mind.”
I pause, considering the name. “Norman? Like Norman Mailer?” Mom occasionally used his work in class, but I hadn’t expected Matt to know him.
“I was thinking more like Rockwell. He’s a pretty photogenic dude, and he seems like he’d fit right in on one of those magazine covers.”
”True.” Not true. I was mostly humoring him. “Norman might work.”
“But to be honest, I was thinking more like Norman Bates.” Matt grins boyishly.
“From Psycho?” I squeak the question.
“Yeah. You have to admit he’s a little stuck on you.”
“We are not naming this cat after Norman Bates.”
He raises an eyebrow and opens the passenger door for me.
“I do like Norman, though.”
I put a hand on the door and seat, and Matt lifts me up. After the thoughts I had earlier, his hands around my waist bring a blistering awareness, and my breath leaves me in a whoosh. If he heard it, he doesn’t let on, but I’m sure my face is flaming red.
“Norman it is. But you have to promise to never say Norman Bates again.”
“I promise. And look, you’re more decisive than you think.” He smiles at me with a friendly pride that I refuse to make assumptions about.
“I appreciate your optimism.”
“Not a problem. Let's go reclaim our cat.”
It makes me inordinately happy that he says our.
Matt easily navigates the tourist-congested traffic. His confidence is captivating when I would have been nervous about squeezing a vehicle so big through such a mess. Luckily, we don’t get stopped at a bridge, so we quickly make it over to Al and Annie’s.
Unlike this morning, the big wrecker is parked in the driveway meaning Al must still be home. After we step down from the cab, I place my hand on Matt’s arm and pull him to a stop before going inside. “Thank you for introducing me to them. It’s been so nice getting to know more people in the area, and they’ve been so welcoming.” I pause, gathering bravery. “And you, as well.”
He reaches out and takes my hand, making the butterflies in my stomach take flight again. It seems to be a habit of theirs around him.
“It’s my pleasure, Lenore.”
I nod but turn my face away from him since I can’t keep my emotions off of it to save my life. He squeezes my hand and keeps holding it as we start up the path.
“C’mon, kids. Diddya pick a name yet?” Al’s hanging out his back door, watching us with a mischievous grin, knowing he's likely broken up some emotional moment.
“Norman,” Matt calls back. He tucks me into his side with an arm around my shoulders. I take a moment to rest against him, savoring his warmth and strength.
“Ah, like Stormin’ Norman.”
My head pops up at his words. “Don’t jinx it! Matt’s already planting ideas in my head. We need to think good, positive thoughts about him. Not destructive and messy. I need him to be a well-behaved gentleman.” I must seem slightly panicked by the thought because Matt and Al both start laughing.
“Focus on the Rockwell version,” Matt says quietly so only I can hear, his whispered words spreading shivers over my body.
“Maybe we should make that his official full name,” I whisper. “But I wonder if his new family will like it.”
I force myself to add the last part, needing to maintain some distance and knowing that although I desperately want to keep him, I might not be able to.
“Hey, try not to think about that yet.” Matt slips his hand down to my waist, gives me a half hug, and starts us back toward the house. That’s enough to take my mind off the cat and put it directly back on him.
