Knitting Under the Influence (22 page)

III

O
n Monday morning, Sari walked into Ellen's office and asked to have someone else take over Zachary Smiths program.

Ellen wanted to know why.

“I love the kid,” Sari said. “He's great. But I can't keep seeing him. For personal reasons.”

“You're going to have to give me more than that,” Ellen said.

“No, I don't.”

Ellen waited, but Sari just tightened her mouth and looked at the floor. After a moment, Ellen sighed and—for once—surrendered. “Is there anything I need to know about the family before I assign someone else? Anything you're not telling me?”

“No.”

“Because if there's something wrong—if the guy's a letch, or anything like that—you'd better tell me now. I’m not about to put one of my clinicians into an ugly situation.”

“He's not a letch,” Sari said. “I promise you, it'll be fine for anyone who's not me.”

“You're not getting out of the hours,” Ellen said. “If I put the Smith kid with someone else, you'll have to take on some new kids.”

“I know. That's fine.”

“All right.” Ellen pulled a pad of paper toward her and picked up a pen. “Let me figure this out.”

“Thanks.” Sari moved toward the door.

Ellen looked up again. “Tell me, should I be pissed at you, Sari? Or worried about you?”

“Neither,” Sari said. “I’m a big girl.”

“Not if I’m cleaning up your mess, you're not.”

Sari blushed with sudden shame.

Ellen was already reaching for the phone to cancel that day's appointment for the Smiths when Sari left her office.

Sari checked her e-mail that afternoon. She had three messages from Jason Smith. She looked at the subject lines.

The first was, “About this weekend.”

The second was, “Dinner tonight?”

And the third was, “What the hell is going on?”

She deleted them all immediately.

IV

T
he first hint something was up came on Monday evening, when Lucy and David were walking out of the lab together and he asked her if she would be in her apartment the following morning.

“What kind of question is that?” she said.

“A yes-or-no one.”

“I may go to the gym,” she said. “Why?”

“Don't go to the gym,” he said. “Stay home.”

“And again, I say, Why?”

“No reason whatsoever.” And he walked off.

That made her curious. David had never come by her apartment before except to drop off work stuff.

She woke up at seven and was in a really bad mood by nine—she still hadn't heard from him and she could have gone to the gym and been back three times by then.

Then, a little after nine, she heard the buzzer. “It's me,” David's voice said, distorted by the intercom system.

“This better be good,” she said and buzzed him in.

She waited by the apartment door, her arms crossed, ready to be furious with him. He came up the stairs, holding something—a big white cardboard box with handles—and flashing an enormous self-satisfied grin. “Lucy,” he said, “meet your new best friend.” He put the box on the hallway floor, knelt down next to it and opened up the top, then reached inside and pulled out an extremely small gray ball of fluff. It had two big eyes and a pointy chin. At the sight of Lucy, it opened its miniature mouth, revealing several tiny uneven white teeth, and gave a squeaky little meow.

“Ow,” David said. “It keeps digging its claws into me.” He held the animal out to her. “So what do you think?”

Lucy squatted down next to him and carefully took the kitten. “Oh,” she said. It was incredibly light, like it was made out of fur and not much more. It fit on the palm of her hand, and she could feel its heart beating against her palm. “Let's go in,” she said and stood up slowly, cradling the kitten safe and tight against her body, then led the way back into the apartment.

David carried the box in and shut the door behind them.

“Where did you get it?” Lucy asked. She rubbed the top of the kitten's head. There was hard bone right under the fluff.

“He's cute, isn't he? I got him at the pound. You wouldn't believe what you have to go through to get a kitten there. They found him a couple of weeks ago, but wouldn't release him until this morning and by the time they opened, there was already a crowd of people all wanting him. Someone had actually been waiting there since five. So they held a live auction, with people bidding and screaming at each other and everything. It was pretty intense.”

“But you won?”

“Yeah,” David said. “I was determined.”

She lifted the kitten up high and peered at it from underneath. “It's a boy.”

“I could have told you that if you'd just asked. Or do you get off on looking at little animal penises?”

“I take what I can get,” she said with a laugh. She snuggled the kitten in both hands and put him against her cheek. “He's so soft.”

“Isn't he?” He was watching her, leaning back against the door, looking very pleased with himself.

“Are you just showing him to me?” she said. “Or actually giving him to me? Because—” Because she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything before. Why hadn't she ever thought of getting a cat before? She had thought about a dog, but never a cat. A cat made
sense.

“He's all yours,” David said. “Although I’d like to retain some visiting rights.”

“Why?” Lucy looked at him, the kitten still caught against her cheek. He had started purring—it was like a tiny motor in her left ear.

“I got attached to him on the ride over.”

“No, I mean, why did you get him for me?”

“I don't know,” he said. Then: “I guess, ever since that night at the bar … you seemed so sad about having to kill animals for work and not having any as pets. I wanted to get you something. A dog seemed way too time-consuming and a fish just isn't all that much fun. Plus, I figured you could really relate to a cat, what with you both being rat-killers and all.”

“And cute,” Lucy said. “Cute little rat-killers, both of us.”

“Exactly. But if you don't want him, I could—”

“I want him,” she said. “He's perfect.”

“That's what I thought when I saw him. I thought about telling you, but I wanted it to be a surprise, and I didn't know for sure if I’d end up getting him or not.”

“Was it very expensive? I mean, if it was an auction—”

“It was a
pound,
Lucy,” he said. “People get animals at pounds because they can't afford pet stores. Don't worry about it.”

“That's not why people go to pounds,” she said. “It's for moral reasons.”

“Whatever. I could afford it.”

“I’d like to pay you back,” she said. “Tell me how much.”

For the first time since he'd arrived that morning, his grin faded. “Jesus, Lucy, just say thank you, will you? It's a gift.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Oh, David, thank you.”

There was a short awkward pause. She thought she should probably hug him or something, but she was holding the kitten in her hands and couldn't really. She looked around and said, “I’ll have to figure out where he can sleep and eat and everything. And kitten-proof the apartment.”

“Yeah, you might want to cover any live wires,” David said. “And no more inviting coyotes over for a cup of tea. Do you know if you're allowed to have pets in this building?”

“No,” she said. “It was never an issue, so I never bothered to ask.”

“If it's a problem—”

“I’ll move,” Lucy said.

“I was going to say I could take him in, but that works, too.” He leaned forward and touched the kitten's nose. “I knew you'd like him. Oh, and I have some stuff in the car. I’ll go get it. Some food and medicine for his eyes. They're a little gunky.”

She raised the kitten to eye level and peered at him. “Oh, yeah. I hadn't even noticed.”

“They said most of the kittens come in that way, but it clears right up with the drops. I also stopped at the drugstore for some other things—the pet store wasn't open yet. Let me go get it all.” He left the apartment and Lucy could hear him clatter down the stairs.

She sat down with the kitten on her lap. “Hello,” she said and rubbed the top of its bony-fluffy little head with her index finger knuckle. “I’m your new roommate.” The kitten pushed its forehead hard against her hand, then started to climb up her stomach, its long thin claws slipping through the knit of her sweater so she could feel their points prick against her skin. It was a delicious feeling.

She had thought the kitten was all gray, but now, as she studied it more closely, she saw that it had two little black lines between its eyes and two tiny black dots on the top of its nose.

She was still sitting there just looking at the cat when David reappeared at her open front door.

“Hey,” he said, dropping a couple of bags on the floor. “I got some kitten chow, too. By the way, they said to never give him milk or cream, because it could upset his stomach. Who knew?”

“I did,” Lucy said. “Because I had cats when I was a kid. But they weren't ever kittens.”

“Actually,” he said, “I’m fairly certain they must have been at some point. See, the mommy cat and the daddy cat love each other a lot, and he puts a seed in her—”

“You know what I mean. I only ever knew them as adults. I’ve never owned a kitten before.”

David sat down next to her. “Nothing cuter than a kitten.” He extended his index finger, and the kitten sniffed at it, then put his own paw on top. “He's shaking hands,” David said. “The world's most brilliant cat.”

The kitten put his mouth on the end of David's finger and tried to suck at it.

“He thinks you're a nipple,” Lucy said.

“I’m rethinking that whole brilliant thing.” They both watched the kitten mouth David's finger. “What are you going to name him?”

“I hadn't even thought about it yet. You sprang this on me pretty suddenly.”

“How about calling him David?”

“You want me to name my cat after you?” She raised her eyebrows. “That's asking a lot, don't you think?”

“Maybe,” he said. “But think of how much fun we could have with this. You could say things like, ‘David slept all curled up against me last night,’ in front of other people and make them wonder what's going on between us.”

“You'd take way too much pleasure in that.”

“Come on,” he said. “Throw me a bone. It's the only way I’m ever going to get into your bed. Besides, David is a great name. He defeated Goliath, you know.”

“Fine,” Lucy said and raised the kitten into the air. “I dub you David the cat. And if you're anything like the guy you're named after, you'll be an enormous pain in the butt.”

“You like him, don't you?” David poked her with his elbow.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” She put the cat on the sofa next to her so she could give David a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “This may be the best present anyone's ever given me.”

“You're very welcome.” They released each other and he sat back. “Did I mention that I got up at six-thirty in the morning just for you?”

“You want a cup of coffee?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

Lucy went into the kitchen and busied herself pouring the water and measuring the coffee. The whole time, her heart sang with joy. She was in love with a pound of gray fur. And his name was David.

V

S
ari walked into Lucy's apartment the next Sunday, greeted her, dropped a bag of bagels on the table, pulled a brand-new skein of yarn, a needle, and her knitting magazine out of her workbag, sat down at the table—and sneezed. And sneezed again. And three more times.

“Man,” she said, blowing her nose in a paper napkin. “Something's really bothering my allergies. Did James give you flowers or something?”

“Are you kidding?” Lucy pulled out some bagels and arranged them on a pretty dark blue plate. “He hates the whole custom of giving flowers—he thinks it's a waste of money and bad for the environment and celebrates death and blah, blah, blah—he'll go on and on about it if the subject comes up.”

“Really? So how does he feel about diamonds?”

“Now that's never come up,” Lucy said.

Sari sneezed again.
“Something's
bothering me.”

Lucy looked up with a sigh. “You're allergic to cats, aren't you?

“Yeah, of course. You know that. But—” Sari got to her feet and looked around. “Oh, no. Don't tell me—”

Lucy just pointed to the corner of the room, where David was curled up in a brand-new pet bed.

“Oh, shit, Luce,” Sari said. “Why'd you do this to me?”

“I totally forgot you had allergies. I’m sorry.”

Sneezing again, Sari reached for her purse. “Please let me have a Claritin in here.” She rummaged around inside. “We won't be able to do knitting circle here anymore—not unless you want to put me in the hospital.”

“You have to admit he's cute, though,” Lucy said.

“I guess. I’ve never been much of a cat person. Given the fact that they make me totally miserable.”

“Oh, but come on.” Lucy went over and scooped up David. “Look at him.”

“Not too close,” said Sari. “Oh, good, I have one.” She went into the kitchen and took the Claritin with a glass of water.

“Don't you worry,” Lucy said to David, kissing him on the side of his furry little mouth. “She just has allergies. Otherwise, she'd think you were absolutely adorable.”

Sari came back in. “Let's hope that works quickly,” she said and immediately sneezed. She reached for another napkin. “Won't be fast enough for me. So when did you decide to get a cat?”

Lucy lightly touched her index finger to the tip of the kitten's right ear and made it twitch. “You remember my lab partner, David?”

“Why do you always say it like that?” Sari said. She sat back down at the table, pulling the magazine toward her. “Why do you always feel you have to explain who David is? I had lunch with him at the autism walk just a few weeks ago.” She flipped through the magazine.

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, he got the cat for me.”

Sari instantly looked up again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he went to the pound and picked out the kitten—actually, it was a lot more complicated than that—I guess there was this whole auction thing—but the short story is that he got the kitten and gave him to me as a gift.”

“Why'd he do that? Did you tell him you wanted one?”

“Not really,” Lucy said. “But one night we were talking about all the rats we'd sac'd—killed—and I was kind of depressed about it and said how I had wanted to be a veterinarian when I was younger—”

“Oh, yeah, I remember. You used to make poor old Daisy lie down and let you examine her. Then you'd make pills out of rolled-up pieces of cheese and shove them down her throat.”

“—and I guess he took that to mean that I’d like a pet. And dogs are too much work and you can't cuddle a fish, so …”

“That's an awfully romantic gesture,” Sari said. “Giving someone a pet.”

“Romantic?” Lucy repeated. “No, it's not. It's nice, but it's not
romantic.
Parents give kids pets all the time. Why would you even
say
that?”

“Lucy, he surprised you with a baby kitten—”

“Kittens are always babies. That's like saying a baby baby.”

“Come on. Didn't you always use to say he had a crush on you?”

“Yeah, a million years ago. Before he started telling me I had a stick up my ass on a regular basis. Anyway, that's not what this was about. He just knew that I’m sick of killing rats, that's all.”

“So he got you a pet that kills rats.”

“It made sense to
me
.”

“What'd you name it?” Sari asked

“I’m not sure yet.” Lucy wasn't about to tell Sari the kitten's name was David, after everything Sari had just said. She knew Sari would try to read something into it.

“Well, congratulations,” Sari said. “What does James think of it?”

“I haven't told him yet,” Lucy said. She put David back into his little bed on the floor. “He hates pets even more than cut flowers.”

There was a quick rap on the door, and Kathleen walked in, hand in hand with Kevin Porter. “Hey!” she said. “Kevin wanted to come up and say hi to you guys. He's dropping me off.”

“Hi, Kevin,” Sari said with a wave. “Want a bagel?”

“No, thanks,” he said. “We just went out to breakfast. I’m stuffed.” He stayed by the door and surveyed the room. “So this is the famous Sunday morning knitting circle, huh? Kathleen's always rushing out on me to get here on time.”

“That's funny,” Lucy said. “She's never actually on time.”

“It moves around from place to place,” Sari said. “But we've been doing it for a while—a couple of years now.”

“I think that's great,” he said. “Wish I knew how to knit. It looks like fun.”

“You could learn,” Lucy said.

Kevin laughed. “I don't think so.”

“Why not?” Kathleen didn't seem to be as full as he was; she had gone right to the bagels and was tearing into one with her teeth. “Why wouldn't you learn?”

“You know,” he said. “It would be weird. A guy knitting.”

“Lots of guys knit,” Lucy said.

“Straight guys?”

“Sure.”

“Not that there's anything wrong with not being straight,” he said. He put his hand on the doorknob. “Well, maybe one day you guys can teach me. But right now I’ve got a date to play golf with my father. Kathleen, are you okay for a ride home?”

Kathleen looked at Sari.

“You're covered,” Sari said and sneezed.

“All right, then,” Kevin said. “Bye.” He slipped out, closing the door behind him.

“He couldn't leave fast enough, could he?” Lucy said.

“It's the knitting,” Kathleen said. “Guys like Kevin get freaked when things get too girly. Like it might be contagious.”

“’Guys like Kevin’?” Sari repeated. “What kind of a guy is he exactly?”

“Just your average American male.”

“You're madly in love with him, aren't you?” Lucy said. “Who wants coffee?”

“Do you need to ask?” Kathleen said. “And what the hell is that furry thing moving around over there? You bring one of your rats home?”

While Lucy was introducing her to David, the phone rang, and when Lucy answered it, it was James saying he'd left a book he needed at her place and could he come by now and grab it?

Lucy hung up and said, “It's bring-your-boyfriend-to-work day here at the knitting circle. James is stopping by.”

“Oh, good,” Sari said. “Maybe we can scare him off the way we scared Kevin off. And then we can scare off
my
boyfriend— oh, wait, I don't have one.” She rubbed her eyes savagely. “God, they're so itchy I could scream.”

Kathleen pointed to her magazine. “Did you find something to knit?”

“Yeah. This.” She showed her the picture. It was a red, yellow, and black striped sweater.

“I like that it's cropped,” Kathleen said. “Very chic.”

“It won't look cropped on me,” Sari said. “Not unless I make it like five inches long.”

“You're lucky you're so small—you can knit a sweater for yourself in a couple of minutes. Takes me forever.”

“What are you working on now?”

Kathleen had finished the tube top at their last get-together. She grinned at Sari, and pulled out her own knitting magazine. “This.” She opened it to the marked page and pointed.

Lucy came over to look with Sari and groaned when she saw it was a bikini. A very skimpy hand-knit bikini.

Sari said, “Well, the good news is it can't take much yarn.”

“Knitting a bathing suit in November,” Lucy said. “Someone thinks she's going somewhere tropical this holiday season.”

“Nothing's definite,” Kathleen said, “but Kevin's parents own a house in Hawaii.”

“Of course they do,” Lucy said.

“You'll look great in this, Kath,” Sari said. “I could never pull it off, but you totally can.” She handed her back the magazine. “What color are you going to do it in?”

Kathleen pulled a skein out of her bag and showed them.

Lucy groaned again at the sight of the hot pink yarn. “Don't you ever get tired of being obvious?”

“Hasn't hurt me so far,” Kathleen said.

There was a knock on the door and then James came in. “You didn't tell me you had visitors! Hi, Sari. Hi, Kathleen.” He gave each of them a quick kiss on the cheek, finishing with Lucy. “Hi, babe. Did you know the door is propped open downstairs?”

“Yeah. I did that,” Lucy said.

“Oh. Guess I should have left it then.”

“Doesn't matter. We're all here now.”

Kathleen said, “You're a guy, James. What would you think of this”—she showed him the photo of the bikini—”in hot pink?”

He tilted his head and studied the picture. “Depends on who's wearing it.”

“Me.”

“Then I’m all for it.”

“See?” Kathleen said to Lucy. “He likes it in hot pink.”

“Right,” Lucy said. “A guy likes the idea of a gorgeous girl wearing a skimpy bathing suit—I’m sure it's all about the color.”

“No, it's—” James stopped. “Hold on.” His head turned. “What's that?”

“What?” Lucy looked in the same direction. David was sitting on the floor a few feet away, one leg in the air, his neck curved gracefully downward as he carefully licked his balls—or where his balls would have been if he hadn't been neutered. “Oh, that.”

As they all turned to look at him, David froze in that position. His eyes darted back and forth among all the humans. He slowly lowered his leg.

James said, “Kathleen? Sari? Will one of you please tell me that cat is yours?”

“Sorry,” Kathleen said with a cheerful shrug, and Sari said, “I can't even stand being in the same room with it. Allergies.”

“That would make it—” He looked at Lucy. “Yours.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I got a cat. Surprise!”

“You've got to be kidding me.”

“Why? You know I like animals.”

“And you know I think it's idiotic to spend money and time on something that doesn't contribute anything useful to the world.”

“He's soft,” Lucy said.

“Softer than you, James,” Kathleen said. “I mean, I’m just guessing…”

He didn't even smile. “I’m serious, Lucy. Pets have to be the biggest waste— Do you know that there are children starving in this country? In this
city?
And you're going to spend money on food for this thing?”

“I’m not taking food out of their mouths,” Lucy said. “I mean, I’m not
not
giving money to charity because I have a cat. It doesn't work that way.”

“Yeah, Lucy wouldn't care about starving kids even if she didn't have a cat,” Kathleen said.

“Stop helping her,” Sari said. “Stop talking.” She patted the chair next to hers firmly and Kathleen carried her knitting stuff and magazine over, sat down, and joined her in casting on stitches. But they were both listening to every word.

“I just can't believe you would go and get a cat when you know I hate the whole idea of pets,” James said. “Unless that's the point.”

“I realize this may come as a total shock,” Lucy said. “But not everything's about you.”

“You want something cute and cuddly? How about I buy you a stuffed animal? And I give this guy to a friend of mine who uses kittens for his research?”

“You're joking, right?” Lucy said.

“I’m deadly serious.”

“You're sick.”

“Oh, please,” he said. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I guess I’m not,” she said. “I guess I’m an idiot like all those other idiots in the world who don't think exactly like James Shields.”

“The world would be a much better place if people thought like me,” he said. “And you know it.”

“Can't you for once put yourself in someone else's shoes? Can't you see that someone might like to have a pet and still not be an idiot?”

“Nope,” he said. His mouth was a flat line. There was a pause.

Lucy shifted abruptly and said, “The book you wanted— where'd you leave it?”

“In the bedroom, I think.”

“Let me check.”

While she was gone, Sari said, “There are bagels, James, if you're hungry.”