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“That’s what I’m worried about, too,” I pipe up. I momentarily consider telling Mel who Clyde really is, but it feels disloyal to Matty, so I settle for, “And this isn’t my cat. It’s Matty’s.”
Melissa does a double take her brother’s way. “What? When did you get a cat?”
“Just take Nora inside, make her a cup of tea and play Scrabble or something until I get back,” Matty says, backing away toward his SUV. “Just don’t leave the cottage and don’t let anyone else know you’re here, okay?”
“Matty, I—”
“Pikachu Promise,” Matty says, silencing Mel, who goes still beside me.
When I glance down at her, her face is pale.
“Okay,” she murmurs, nodding numbly. “Okay. We’ll wait until you get back. But hurry. I’m worried.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Matty says, holding her gaze as he reaches for the driver’s side door. “See you both in a little while.” He glances my way, looking like he’s about to add something more, but after a beat, he slides behind the wheel without a word.
A minute later, he’s gone, and Mel and I are alone in the damp.
Clyde belches, as if to remind me that he’s mixed up in all this mess, too.
Mel cuts a look my way. “Was that the cat?”
“It was. He has a bit of a funny tummy.”
She reaches out, rubbing the fur between his ears, making his warm body begin to rumble against my chest. “Poor little guy. Well, let’s head inside. I can get him some water, at least. And we can get out of the rain. At least it’s slowed down some.” She sighs as she starts up the porch steps, pulling out her keys. “But it’s supposed to pick up again tomorrow morning and keep going through most of the weekend. I was supposed to cater a wedding on Saturday, but the bride shot me a message an hour ago that she needs to shift the date. Apparently, her venue by the lake is already almost underwater.”
“Oh, no,” I say, following her. “Does that mean you’re stuck paying for all the food?”
“No, she’s going to pay me double,” Mel says as she unlocks the door. “Which means steak and chicken for a week at my house and a massive donation to the local food pantry. But that isn’t even the best part. Come on, I’ll show you.” She motions me inside, flicking on lights as she dumps her purse on a small table inside the door. I keep mine slung across my chest, since the strap is currently under both Clyde and my borrowed coat. She moves past rows of shiny, stainless steel prep tables toward the walk-in fridge on the other wall, pausing to grin at me as she grips the handle. “Are you ready?”
I nod, stroking Clyde, who’s still purring happily. “Ready.”
She opens the walk-in with a flourish, revealing a stunning, three-tier wedding cake decorated in gorgeous red poppy flowers made of icing.
“Oh, wow,” I murmur, my mouth instantly starting to water. That pot pie was excellent, but it wasn’t cake.
Mel grins. “Right? And since Matty’s being a weirdo and we’re stuck here for at least an hour, I say, let us eat cake.”
I nod eagerly. “Yes, please, and thank you. I’ll start the kettle for tea or coffee.”
She shoots me a thumbs-up before gripping the rolling cart beneath the massive dessert and guiding it out of the fridge. “Perfect. What’s your ideal cake to icing ratio? The top layer has way more icing per bite. The second and third layers are more cake heavy.”
“The more icing the better for me, thanks,” I say. “Is it okay to put the cat down?”
She nods. “Sure. He’s too little to jump up on any of the prep surfaces, and I have my cleaners coming Saturday morning anyway. I’ll grab him some water and a little melon. I had a cat when I was a kid who loved watermelon when she had a funny tummy.”
“Perfect.” I set Clyde down and start toward the massive stove with the red kettle on the back burner. “Next question: Is this normal Matty behavior? Or something strange and unusual?”
Melissa props her hands on her hips with a sigh. “It’s not totally unheard of. Rare, but the occasional cryptic, late-night request does happen.” She casts a loaded glance my way. “But this is the first time he’s brought along a friend. Or a cat.”
Storing this information away, I add, “And this is a recent thing, or…”
She crosses to a glass-doored cupboard containing pale gray china. She fetches a stack of small plates and a bowl, which she fills with water before placing it on the tile for Clyde. “No, it’s ongoing. Since he graduated from high school. Not often, but every once in a while, he has a strange request and whips out a Pikachu Promise to get me to go along without causing a fuss.” She rolls her eyes. “Pikachu was our favorite Pokémon as kids. It became our code word for super-secret twin business.”
I smile. “I like it. So…what do you think this weirdness is all about?” I raise my voice to be heard as she ducks into the walk-in. “I had a theory, but Matty was quick to debunk it.”
“I have a theory, too. What was yours?” she asks, emerging with a Tupperware container full of chopped watermelon.
“Tell me yours first,” I say. “You obviously know him better than I do.”
