The Man Behind The Mask. Barbara Hannay

It was a small thing. A shared moment of amusement. It made her need to get rid of him even more urgent.

      As if he sensed the danger of the moment as acutely as she had, he frowned. “Charlie seems way better than he was last night. Are you, er, doing something?”

      “No. There’s nothing to do, I’m afraid. How old is he?”

      “Seventeen, I think.”

      “That’s pretty old for a cat,” she said carefully.

      “I think so, too. Unfortunately, Deedee has a friend whose cat made it to twenty-three.”

      “I wouldn’t tell her Charlie is feeling better,” Nora suggested.

      She knew it was an opportunity for him to make a crack about her missing an opportunity to get some more money out of Deedee, but he didn’t take it.

      “Okay, I won’t tell her. Though it is obvious, even to me, a tried-and-true cynic, that he is feeling better.” He added, “I’m going. Do not do a single thing today. Do you hear me?”

      “Are you always so masterful?” she said, raising an eyebrow, unimpressed.

      “Why?” he asked softly. “Do you like masterful?”

      “No!” She’d better be careful. She didn’t have a shoe handy to throw. Instead, she quickly changed tack. “I’ll catch up on some of my inside things.”

      She was giving in just a little, to make him go.

      “You’re not even supposed to read. Except your symptom sheet, which tells you not to read. And don’t use the computer. No answering Ask Rover.”

      She stiffened. “What do you know about Ask Rover?”

      “There were some letters beside your bed.”

      “You read my mail!”

      “It was lying out. I had to think of a way to stay awake. Sorry.” He didn’t sound contrite.

      She hated that he knew.

      And then she didn’t.

      Because he said, “I liked the first response better. the dog knew the guy was a jerk.” And Brendan smiled at her, as if he actually liked it that she was Ask Rover. “Is that the one you’ll use? About biting him where it counts?”

      Nora could feel her face getting very red. That had not been meant for anyone to see.

      “No,” she said, “it won’t be.”

      “That’s a shame.”

      And it sounded as if he meant it!

      “I’ll be back,” he said.

      “No!”

      That sounded way too vehement.

      “You’ve done enough,” she amended hastily. “I’m very appreciative. Really. But I can take it from here.”

      “Uh-huh,” he said, without an ounce of conviction. He gave her one long look, and then patted her shoulder and was gone.

      And suddenly she was alone, in a house that was changed in some subtle and irrevocable way because he had spent the night in her bedroom and eaten cookies at her kitchen counter.

      And just as she had a secret side that answered letters to Ask Rover exactly the way she wanted to, she had a secret side that listened to his car start up and said, Usually when a man spends the night something a little more exciting happens! Maybe next time.

      “There isn’t going to be a next time,” she informed her secret side.

      But, of course, there was. Because he had said he was coming back, and he did. One of the volunteers must have told him when they did evening chores and feeding, because he was there promptly at seven. Nora peered out the living room window at him getting out of his car.

      He was dressed more appropriately, in a plaid jacket, and jeans tucked into rubber boots. Really, the readyto-grub-out-pens outfit should have made Brendan less attractive. And didn’t. At all.

      Nora breathed a sigh of relief when he made no move toward the house. Luke, bless his heart, was already at the barns. She was glad to be rid of him, too. He had absolutely hovered all day, Charlie in his arms and Ranger on his heels.

      She knew, somehow, she should have insisted he take the cats with him when he went to do chores, and leave them in the barn, but she hadn’t.

      Charlie didn’t like her, and had retreated under the sofa as soon as Luke left, then slunk off up the stairs, probably to Luke’s room. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have to lay her hands on him to know his life force was leeching out of him. The antics of the kitten entertained her, but didn’t occupy her enough for her to outrun her own thoughts.

      Which let her know her relief that Brendan had headed for the barns instead of the house was pretended relief. Part of her wanted him to come up here. Which probably explained why she was still in the designer jeans and top, and not her pj’s despite a full day of doing nothing.

      Unless you counted catching up on movies. She scowled at the TV. Since he’d arrived—since she knew he was out there—she had no idea what was going on in the movie.

      Then she heard them coming. She felt like a high school girl waiting for her prom date. She checked her buttons. Ran a hand through her hair. Tried to pull her bangs over the bump on her forehead. She tried to decide how to sit so that it looked as if she was completely surprised and a little bored by the fact Brendan was coming to her house.

      Luke let him in, so he didn’t knock.

      And then he was standing there, filling her space, gazing at her, and her silly heart was beating way too hard.

      “How are you feeling?” he asked.

      If she told him the truth about her racing pulse, she’d probably be whisked off to the hospital, just as Deedee had been. “Bored.”

      He looked past her to the TV. “What movie?”

      Why hadn’t she thought of that when she was preparing to see him again?

      She snapped it off. “Something silly. I just turned it on to keep from going crazy.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “It’s that pirate one,” Luke said, coming back with Charlie. “It’s for babies, but she’s seen it three times. Because of Johnny Jose.” He rolled his eyes disparagingly.

      Brendan’s lips were twitching as if her crush on Johnny Jose was amusing. “So you’re feeling all right? No signs of dizziness? Not feeling sick?”

      “I’m fine.” If he said uh-huh she was going to scream. Instead he stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels and studied her. She tilted her chin defiantly.

      “This is cool, Auntie Nora. Brendan gave the old lady a tablet so she can see some video of Charlie while she’s in the hospital.”

      How, exactly, could you steel yourself against something like that?

      Or what followed. Luke put down Charlie, got out a piece of string and tied a lump of hay to it. “This is a mouse,” he narrated. Then he pulled it across the floor.

      The black-and-white kitten exploded across the room after the hay. Luke shouted with laughter. It was the most animated she had seen her nephew in a long, long time. And then he went and dangled the string in front of the couch, where Charlie had retreated.

      A ginger paw came out and swatted. Then swatted again. Then both paws shot out, and Charlie grabbed the “mouse” with such strength he pulled it from Luke’s hand, yanking it under the couch with him.

      Brendan lowered the phone that he had been recording the scene with, and stared at the place where Charlie had disappeared. “That is like the old Charlie,”