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I was warming up spaghetti for our dinner when Zoë told me how the veterinarian was such a nice man, who’d been so nice to Nikki, asking if she was Zoë’s mother and acting all happy when she wasn’t.
“What do you mean, he asked Nikki if she wanted to go out?”
I was trying not to overreact, but this was the last thing I’d been expecting.
I took the sauce off the stove even though it wasn’t ready yet, but I needed to give my full attention to what Zoë was saying.
The cats were supposed to bring all of us together, to make Nikki a bigger part of the family and make her have more fun with us. Not with the vet!
“He said Nikki looked too young to be my mother and when said she was my nanny, he said, oh good, then you won’t mind me hitting on you.”
She paused and looked at me. “What does that mean, Daddy? Did he want to hit her? Why would he want to hit her?”
“No,” I said darkly. “It means something else. When you hit ON someone, you actually like them.”
“That’s a weird way to show it,” Zoë mused. “
Indeed, I thought.
Then I asked her, “What did Nikki do when the doctor said all this to her?”
“Oh, she was just laughing and not really saying anything.”
I could picture it in my mind’s eye, Nikki dressed in those denim cut-offs and a tight t-shirt, her hair all wavy and long past her shoulders, those blue eyes sparkling as the vet flirted with her. Veterinarians were cool, weren’t they? Guys who loved animals, playing with kittens, rescuing dogs, freeing trapped seals in the harbor.
Bastards.
“What did he look like?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
I sat down next to her on the carpet where she was playing with Roxy and Rocky. One of the cats, I still didn’t know which was which, climbed onto my lap and started biting my finger. Its teeth were sharp, and I gently tried to pry its mouth away from my finger. Then the little beast found the zipper on my top and started chewing on that.
“Was he old like Mr. Learman from upstairs, or younger like...” I had to think of someone young and attractive. “Like Simone’s friend Jamie?”
Zoë said. “He wasn’t old, but he wasn’t young either.” She gave it some thought. “He kind of looks like the guy who does the weather after the news?”
With a jolt, I realized she was talking about Gabriel Mormont.
The guy looked like he’d been a male model before he joined TV news. He was tall, with strong shoulders and a deep reassuring voice that could tell you that the foulest of weather was heading your way with horrid wind and freezing temperatures and all you’d think of was cozy log fires and marshmallows and mulled wine.
“And he asked her to go out with him?” I asked, lifting the kitten off my leg where it had started digging its claws into my leg.
“He asked what time she finished work,” Zoë said.
“And what did she say?”
“Nothing. He said he’d call her.”
“He’d call her?” I repeated the words stupidly. “Why would he do that?”“
To check on the kitties?” Zoë asked innocently. “When is dinner ready? I’m hungry.”
I knew it was time I stopped interrogating Zoë. I got up to finish the spaghetti and wondered where Nikki was. Was she getting ready for a date with our veterinarian?
When she joined us for dinner, I was in a foul mood. I couldn’t help noticing how pretty she looked, in a white t-shirt that suited her golden tan, her bright smile. She was in a good mood, chatting away about their day and their visit to the vet’s after work.
“And what did the vet say about the cats?” I asked, trying to keep the jealousy from my voice.
