He’d felt so ready to take that step forward with Gwen. Now his hopes for a new start evaporated. Like his patience.
The rest of the photos had loaded, but he grabbed his mouse, highlighted the ones of Gwen, and sent them all into the Recycle Bin.
Something nagged at him about that decision for the rest of the afternoon. The rain hadn’t let up and by the time he made it back to his building, his clothes were soaked. In the center of the hallway on the cold tile floor, the black cat sat, also wet from the rain.
Andrew glanced around, curious why his furry friend was just sitting there. The mischief on the fuzzy little face made Andrew smile for the first time since leaving Gwen. He tapped the owner’s door, but the one across the hall opened up instead.
The attractive older woman who always watched Andrew with intensity called out in her broken English. “Signora Morelli passed away last week.”
Andrew glanced down at the soggy feline. “I’m sorry.”
“My daughter...she is allergy to cats.”
“Allergic,” Andrew corrected. And now he owned a cat.
“I have been feeding him out here, and I think he likes to sleep outside anyways.” She disappeared into her apartment, the black lacquered door slamming behind her.
When it opened again, she came out balancing two dishes and a small bag of dry food. He rushed to help her and caught a glimpse of smooth olive skin under her robe.
Her dark eyes met his. “Scusa, ” she murmured.
The moment hit him like he’d been slammed into a wall. This beautiful woman had hinted all along she wanted him. Andrew, technically a single man, could drop the bag of food and pull her into his apartment.
That’s not what he wanted. That woman wasn’t who he wanted. He cleared his throat and moved his eyes away. Fast.
“I’ll do my best to take care of him. But I live in America. I’m only here until the end of the year.”
“I will see if another neighbor can take him after that. But he is looking, how you say...lonely right now?”
The cat looked lonely indeed. Andrew knew the look. It’s what he saw in his own mirror.
“Grazie.”
Without a formal invitation, the cat scampered into his flat. Andrew followed him in and grabbed a small towel to dry him off. The cat purred happily at his touch.
He set up the two bowls under the window his friend liked to climb through. After filling up the tin bowl with water, the cat lapped at it like he’d been in a desert. The other ceramic bowl was full of chips. Still, Andrew poured the contents of an unknown brand of food into it. Getting the little guy something better to eat, along with new bowls topped his mental shopping list.
While placing the food down, the writing on the side caught Andrew’s attention. “Your name is Casper?”
He purred loudly, his body stretching up to get the food.
“That’s a strange name for a black cat.” Andrew pet his back while Casper crunched on little fish-shaped nuggets.
“I’m going to get cleaned up.” He paused, realizing he’d said so little in the last twenty-four hours.
When Cate had passed, he disappeared inside himself. He felt himself slipping back into that abyss because of Gwen. The large yellow eyes staring at him begged for conversation. It felt good to have someone to talk to.
After a shower that reluctantly wiped away the last remnants of Gwen’s perfume, Andrew sat on the velvet sofa. He turned on the television, but soon dipped his head back and closed his eyes.
He dreamt of Cate for the first time in more than a year. Her blurry image gave the dream an underwater feel. His brain couldn’t conjure the right memory of her. The beautiful healthy woman or the mangled mess.
Even her voice sounded muted. Gwendolyn is your second chance. Don’t give up on her.
Cate left a warm, moist kiss on his cheek, very platonic-like. She was still his wife, but his heart belonged elsewhere at this point, and she seemed to know that.
Drew?
Yes, he answered in his dream.
In two minutes and ten seconds that update you approved will wipe out your Recycle Bin. All of her pictures will be deleted.
Cate’s image dissolved and Andrew’s eyes shot open to find the cat on his chest, meowing.
Casper turned around, giving Andrew a view of his behind while he clawed at his legs.
“Ouch! What did you do that for?”
The cat sprung off the couch, sailed across his desk, flickering his laptop to life. A timer appeared against the black background.
“That doesn’t answer my... Oh shit, that update!” Andrew leapt up and sloppily signed into the software. “Wait, how do I stop the update?”
Casper jumped back onto the sofa and yawned lazily.
“Great. I’m asking a cat.” He released a series of hard and frustrated breaths. “Wait.”
He went to the Recycle Bin itself. When a page full of files poured down, his legs gave out. He clicked the Date Modified bar and mercifully, all of Gwen’s pictures appeared on top. He quickly highlighted them all and scrolled to the Restore option.
A soft purr hummed from the arm of the sofa where the cat had sprawled out, satisfied from his cheap dinner. His small pink tongue hung out of his mouth, his furry chest rising and falling. Andrew
hung his head, feeling relieved as well. With a few more keystrokes, he created a new folder on his desktop.
Andrew’s shaking hands typed: My Gwen.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ith too many miles between the North Fork and Manhattan, Darling Cove had their own WThanksgiving Day parade. Gwen pushed away the mixed feelings of whether or not she should have accepted Salvatore’s invitation to watch the Macy’s parade from his apartment.
Waking up with the Darling Cove sunshine on her shoulders and warming her in her bed, Gwen was convinced she’d made the right decision. Besides, if she weren’t around, who would feed the rest of the Mallorys?
The morning held on to the chilly temperatures from the bay waters, previewing the cold winter months ahead. By the afternoon though, the sun warmed Gwen’s shoulders.
Her dad monitored the traffic from Sound Avenue and even though Greg was technically off duty, he was never really off. He stood on the next block, his arms folded, his face stern, as he watched out for trouble. Even without his uniform, Greg Mallory, with his six-foot build, rumpled golden-brown hair, and stunning green eyes, still turned plenty heads in her small town.
Gwen smiled at his dedication, but behind the mirrored shades, she knew her brother was hiding how lonely he really was. His wedding had been scheduled for Thanksgiving weekend ten years ago, so this holiday always hit him hard. He’d been so in love with Faith Copeland and everyone remained puzzled why she ran off. Especially Gwen, since she and Faith had been best friends since grade school.
Sighing those sad thoughts away, Gwen texted Skye her plans to check on the turkey. She’d seasoned the bird earlier in the morning before heading out to watch the parade. Gwen returned to her house to a smell that almost brought her to her knees. A fresh-baked turkey always made Gwen think of her mother. Thanksgiving Day was still so hard to spend without her.
Greg and Skye ambling into her living room, bickering as usual, snapped her out of it.
“How was the rest of the parade?” she asked, grinding at the potatoes with a beat-up mixer.