PART TWO
Ed slept late the next morning, wakened by the slap of Toby practicing bass in the next room. While generally one of his least favorite ways to wake up, somehow the noise couldn’t dampen his spirits this morning. He even found space to admit that Toby might be good. He dreamily allowed his mind to drift back over the previous evening’s events.
Catania, he thought. Well, why not? Smile like nothing happened and tough it out.
Although he couldn’t quite tell himself what he was toughing out, or why. He almost felt like he was somehow betraying himself, but couldn’t be bothered figure out how. Unfounded optimism warred, it seemed, with some kind of almost-paranoia. He decided not to let the inexplicable and somewhat antagonistic feelings ruin his day. He threw the covers off, pulled on a pair or mostly fresh loungers, and headed out into the living room to find Toby still wearing the same clothes he’d had on the night before.
“Do you ever sleep, man?” Ed asked, noting that the twelve-cup coffeepot was nearly empty.
“Cat naps, my man; cat naps. Key to success,” Toby sang, motioning to his cat Vanessa asleep improbably atop the amplifier, which was gratifyingly unplugged.
Ed snorted and poured the last cup of coffee, adulterating it liberally with milk and sugar before heading back to his own room to get dressed. Toby’s coffee was almost as strong as his home-brewed beer. Ed shook his head against the fear of what Toby’s coffee might make him do this morning upon meeting Catania again.
He smiled grimly and thought, Tough it out.
Khakis and a short-sleeve button-up doubled for work clothes and a casual meet-and-greet, and he headed back out to the living room.
“I’m going to head over and just finalize plans with Catania,” he said, trying to project the impression that this was a spur-of-the-moment courtesy.
Toby looked him up and down and said, “And you look wicked pissah!”
Vanessa the cat, named for an ex-girlfriend, dropped from her perch to rub against his legs. She then leapt from the floor to the back of the sofa and from there to Ed’s shoulders.
“Ouch, Jesus! Claws! Claws!” He reached to remove her.
“No!” Toby said. “No, let her be. Trust me on this. Chicks dig animals.”
“What?” Ed said. “I’m just going to ask her about coffee.” He lowered his hands.
Toby grinned. “As you say, Brother. The cat can still help you with the Cat.”
Something in the back of Ed’s head made him agree. He nodded carefully, and turned slowly as Vanessa gripped his shoulder with her claws against his movements.
Opening the door somehow required more effort than it should have; tiny, silvery motes drifted across Ed’s vision. Once in the hall with the door closed, he took a couple deep breaths and they cleared. Deep breathing also relieved a tension in his neck and shoulders that he had not realized had already settled there. He took another deep breath, and another, and told himself to stop. Get on with it, a part of his mind said. He squared his shoulders and knocked on Catania’s door. He waited. He realized that he was again holding his breath, swaying, as the cat dug her claws into his shoulders once again. He waited what seemed several minutes, breathing and swaying and suppressing a compulsion to knock again, and then almost flinched when the door finally opened.
Ed felt oddly relieved to see his neighbor in a simple tee and blue jeans. “Hi,” he said brightly. A part of his mind mentioned in passing, as it were, to the other parts of his mind that she was beautiful.
Catania cocked her head. “You have a cat on your shoulder.”
“I do. She’s here as an impartial witness.” Seriously, do you even think before you speak? he asked himself.
Vanessa jumped from Ed’s shoulder and landed with a barely perceptible thump on the carpeted stairs. She became a small streak of black as she ran up and into Catania’s living room.
Catania smiled and said over her shoulder, “Well. Make yourself at home.” She turned back to Ed, face blank. “And you? You’re a little early, but I guess we can have coffee here.”
Ed jammed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, about that. I’m really sorry about being such a flake yesterday. That wasn’t really me.”
“Your evil twin, then?” She quirked an eyebrow.
“No.” Ed lost his train of thought, derailed by Cat’s expression and an improbable comparison to Star Trek’s Mr. Spock. “No, just…too much partying at the end of a really bad day. Again, I’m really sorry.” The part of his mind that couldn’t help noticing Catania asked the rest of his mind, What the hell are you doing?
“Well, you are wearing pants,” Catania said. She looked him up and down, made a decision. “Come in all the way why don’t you. Sit.”
Catania’s apartment really was as different from Ed’s and Toby’s as was possible. Brightly colored oriental rugs warmed the wooden floors, and the red and gold striped curtains were sewn with tiny mirrors. An antique step tansu supported a riot of houseplants and a tarnished silver samovar. Ed stared around the room, and compulsively took several deep breaths. The air was scented with coffee and cinnamon and something like fresh grass, and just the slightest tang of something he couldn’t quite identify.
“I feel I should tell you,” Catania said. “I don’t usually invite a guy in until at least the fourth date.”
Date? Ed repeated silently. He suppressed a thrill that wanted to run through his spine like an unruly twelve year-old in a toy store.
“No, really, um, I just wanted to ask when would be good for you to get some coffee. That’s all.” The part of his mind that was focused on Catania hated how defensive he sounded.
Catania pulled open a drawer in the tansu and took out two tiny bone china cups. Ed realized that her tee-shirt sported a cartoon character with a coffee cup for a skull. The liquid that oozed from the samovar bore the same alchemical relation to coffee that syrup shared with maple tree sap.
“Now’s good. Please, sit,” Catania said. She set the cups on a Chinese medicine cabinet that doubled as a coffee table and sat, crossing her legs.
Her sofa was covered by a rich red, deep-pile blanket and a scattering of golden-tasseled throw pillows. Ed’s gaze wandered slowly over the walls again, covered with hangings and draperies that created little nooks out of which peeked houseplants and the glint of gold statues and through which Vanessa wove as she explored. Ed tried not to notice Catania’s crossed legs too often. The clock on the wall started to cuckoo eight o’ clock, and he started.
“So what can I do for you?” Catania said.
That’s an interesting turn of phrase. Ed picked up his cup. Gotta stall, he thought. Get some control.
“This is a really nice place,” he said.
“My parents travel a lot.”
“I guess you really do have to go away to create a place you want to come back to,” Ed said. He wanted to cringe as he finished speaking. The interested part of his mind agreed that he should.
“Hmm.”
He flushed.
“I mean, it seems like it would take a lot of work to create a space where you can really, honestly relax.” Ed took another deep breath, and again, just under the scent of the coffee, he caught a chemical tang. Then he saw a pistol stripped down and laid out on a tray on an end table behind Cat. He cocked his head and frowned. Or maybe not so much relaxing?
Catania slowly leaned back against the pile of pillows on her end of the sofa. “Is that really your best pick-up line? A transparent reference to how much you’d like to spend more time here?”
Ed’s gaze had drifted downward from Catania’s face; the cartoon character’s already misshapen head was fascinatingly distorted.
“What? No!” He straightened, and locked his eyes on her face. “I -”
Catania interrupted. “Because you’re charmingly bad at it.”
Even the interested part of Ed’s mind was disconcerted.
Catania straightened. “You see, if I want casual sex, I know where to extort it. But a ‘relationship’? I don’t have time to pussyfoot around and take a year to establish that you really are a raging metrosexual and not the Grizzly Adams of my dreams.”
Ed was completely thrown by this turn in the conversation. Extort? Sex? An image of Catania astride some guy, pointing a pistol at his head, flashed through Ed’s mind. Wait. “Grizzly Adams? Really?” His gaze traveled the room again.
“Of course not. I’m just making a point,” Catania said.
“I’m sorry,” Ed said. “I’m not following you.” The conversation had completely jumped the rails at some point, but he couldn’t figure out where.
“Well,” Catania said. “Let me put it another way.” A laser sight of a design obviously intended to attach to a weapon appeared in her hand.
“What?” Ed said, watching the dot trace across his chest. He shifted uncomfortably. Every last part of his mind was blanking, abandoning him as the conversation went further and further away from his expectations.
“Life is too short for lies and games,” Catania said slowly, deliberately, and the dot stopped on Ed’s crotch. “What do you really want from me?”
Ed’s eyes widened. He was completely unprepared for such directness. And while he knew himself well enough to know that a relationship of some kind was at the very least a distant dream, he really wanted to believe that such was not actually the reason he was in her apartment just then. “Honestly. I’m not after your….” His mind raced, settled on a word. “…honeypot. I mean, you are hot; don’t get me wrong. But….”
Catania’s face expressed almost total disbelief, and Ed’s mind went blank.
What did I want again?
His gaze strayed past her, over the pleasant furnishings. “But that’s not why I came over here.” There was a long pause, and Ed’s gaze was drawn to the movement of an alcove curtain as Vanessa continued to probe the apartment.
Balance. Peace. Right. I was hoping for some kind of balance. That was it. But this is anything but balanced! “I think maybe I should go.” He started to rise from the sofa.
“Interesting. But do please remain seated until the interrogation comes to a complete halt.”
Ed froze; there was an amazing level of authority in her voice, however quietly she had spoken. He slowly sat back down, his gaze fixed on her eyes.
“I’m still not convinced, Ed. Once again: what were you really expecting when you came over here today?”
“Not this,” Ed said in all honesty. In a flash, several elaborations chased through his head. Some he deemed too honest, too rough, while others just seemed like circumlocutions. He was surprised to discover, at that moment, an awareness of such layering of his own mind.
“Insight?” he said. “Guidance. I truly, honestly want help. Relaxing.” He looked around her living room again, but his mind betrayed him. A glimpse of the future? he thought. Oh, god, no. But another part of his mind said, Oh, hell yes!
“That’s dull,” Catania said. She played the laser dot across his ankle, and Vanessa’s paw shot out from beneath the sofa and nailed him.
“Sonuva!” Ed said, and leaned down to swat at the cat.
“In fact, that’s got to be the dullest pick-up line I’ve ever heard. Next time it gets higher,” Catania said, “Until we reach the point of no return.” The dot traced back up his leg to his crotch. “Now. What do you really want?”
This is fucked, Ed thought. Totally fucked. Aloud, he said, “You know what? Nothing. I don’t want a thing here. You’re not getting me, and I’ve really got to be going now. I just came over to chat. Really.” He started to rise again. Get me the fuck out of this, he thought.
“Uh-uh,” Catania said, and Ed was forced to lie back against the sofa and lift his legs to avoid Vanessa’s slashing claws as the laser dipped floorward again. “That’s not good enough. You came into my space. That makes you mine, until I choose to let you go.” She sipped her coffee. “I’m a cop. I know how to keep these things legal.”
This is insane, Ed thought. I’m being held hostage at cat-point. He stared at Catania, who gazed coolly back at him. “Fine; I guess. Shoot.” He thought about her occupation and the gun on the end table, and felt a burst of heat in his armpits. “I mean, ask your questions. Whatever you want. What do I have to do to convince you?”
Catania narrowed her eyes to slits. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You intrigue me, but perhaps now is not the time after all. I think we will have to play with this a little more.” She set her empty coffee cup on the table. “You will meet me tomorrow at seven pm at 121 Post Street in Revere. Dress nicely. And do not be late under any circumstances.”
Ed nodded slowly, thinking, There is no way I’m going to go. But then he thought, But she lives next door. What have I gotten myself into? And also, Opportunity is knocking.
He licked his lips and said, “I can do that.”
“Excellent.”
Catania stood and Ed cautiously followed suit. She gestured toward the door, and Ed started walking. He thought, Jesus, what’s next? Is someone going to jump out of a corner with a machete?
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he said as he reached the top of the stairs, and silently kicked himself for prolonging the engagement.
“Tomorrow,” Catania said, her voice suddenly mild. “Don’t forget your witness.”
Ed turned back. “What, tomorrow?”
“No.” She ran the laser across the floor from the sofa and up Ed’s leg; Vanessa followed it all the way. “Today.”
Ed reached down to intercept the cat before she got any higher than his thigh. “Motherfu…!” He bit his lip. “Thanks.” He walked gingerly down the stairs and left, feeling both relieved and somehow let down as he did so.
Back in their own apartment, Vanessa scrambled from Ed’s arms, eliciting another round of, “Fuck! Claws!” Toby sprawled on the couch, watching C-Span. “Dude, that was just about the weirdest experience I’ve ever had,” Ed said.
Toby twisted on the couch and leered. “Did you receive satisfaction then?”
“What? No, nothing like that.” He gave Toby the play-by-play. “I’m not sure what to think about this. Like, at all.”
Toby said, “Interesting. Fascinating even. The implications are…just fascinating.” His eyes flickered back and forth in their sockets, as if he was reviewing the whole narrative on a screen in his mind. “Upon your next interaction, you must take a video camera with you. I simply must have all the nuances.”
“Oh, hell no! I’m pretty damn sure there’s not going to be a next time. She doesn’t seem too stable.” Even as he said this, Ed’s mind betrayed him, saying, But still….
Toby laughed. “Point given.” His face assumed a posture of complete sobriety. “But you do seem…tempted.”
Ed rubbed his temples. An image of Catania stretching back against the arm of her luxurious sofa sat next to the reality of Toby laying across their battered couch. He sighed.
“Shit. I don’t know. I mean, she’s clearly nuts. But if you could see her place.” Just imagining the scene again made Ed draw a deep breath. “How does a woman that…unstable…create a space that relaxing?”
“And how do you get yourself invited back?” Toby said, all innocence.
“What is it with you people? I’m seriously not looking for a relationship here.” His brain wouldn’t let himself off so easily. Definitely not any more. Right? it said archly.
“All right, all right. Not a relationship.” Toby held up his hands in surrender. “But I take it that you are in fact planning a second interview, so you are in actual fact seeking…what? Just interior design consultation?” He pursed his lips. “How then do you intend to attire yourself for this…interview?”
Ed couldn’t figure out where his roommate was going. “Call it whatever you want, man.” He was almost to the point of surrender, himself, as both his roommate and his own mind continued to poke at him. “And what’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well. If it’s not a date….” Toby spread his hands. “If you truly wish to continue this course of action, you must either attempt to present the appearance of the young swain, to which she appears to respond at least somewhat favorably, or you keep it entirely and merely professional.” A brief pause, and a grin. “And I don’t mean hooker-professional.”
“God damnit, Toby.” Ed rolled his eyes, then compared Toby’s and Catania’s insistence that he was in fact coming on to her. “I’m seriously not going there, man. I mean, I guess I can admit that the idea crossed my mind before all of this, but.” He shook his head. His rational mind simply couldn’t manage the two so obviously contrasting sides of Catania’s nature. Except that his subconscious continued relentlessly to dig at him. He gave up. “I guess…I can’t just leave it at this,” he said finally.
“Good. Good,” Toby said. “That’s a start. But I want you to consider the possibilities in exploiting a stereotype. Present her the image of the swain, an idea she’s already accepted. Get your foot in the door, as it were. And then pump her…for details.”
Toby grinned, then sobered again when he saw Ed’s disapproval.
“I’m sorry, Brother. I should be more sensitive to your sensitivity.” He made a little bow. “If you truly do desire nothing more than to learn the secrets of space as an avenue to peaceful presence, then you must present yourself in attire reflecting that.” He narrowed his eyes as he contemplated Ed’s face. “Given all the known factors regarding her taste in materials, I’m thinking your Red Dragon shirt, and the black jeans.”
“Really,” Ed said. “You mocked me for weeks the first time I wore that shirt.”
“Only in context.” Toby snagged a beer from the coffee table. “In context, wearing that ensemble out to a pub with a gathering of gentlemen screams, ‘I’m in the closet and I want out!’.”
“Yeah, you already said.”
“However, in the context of a courting situation, in which you’ve already secured the full attentions of a lady, that particular ensemble shouts, shouts I say, ‘I’m so frickin’ hot, I can’t stand myself!’.”
Ed very carefully enunciated each word. “I am not courting her.”
Toby grinned. “As you say, Brother. But count on me. It works, on every level. Consider it, and you’ll come around.”
“Yeah, well. We’ll see.” Without his noticing, Ed’s subconscious had already conceded the point. The other parts of his mind wanted to literally kick himself.
