Duchess (3 page)

“Yes,” Nonna Kate said slowly, “but she knows where she isn’t.”

Mia looked at their upstairs neighbor. That made a lot of sense.

Nonna Kate stood up. “Well, I’m going to head upstairs. I’m hosting a card game tonight.” She leaned over and tapped a nail on Duchess’s carrier. “You take care of this lady, now.”

“Can’t I just pull her out?” Mia asked when Nonna Kate had left.

“No, I think we should let her come out on her own,” Mom said. “The crate may seem small, but it helps her feel safe. It’s important that she
decides when she’s ready to come out. It’s getting late. Let’s order pizza. Mia, you can help me make a salad and we can talk about your half-birthday party.” Mia remembered that she and Mom had planned to work on invitations that day.

“How many kids do I get to invite?” Mia asked as she and Mom began to pull lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers out of the fridge.

Mom thought about it for a moment. “Does ten sound like a good number?”

Now Mia took a moment to think. In her mind, she counted up the people she wanted to invite. Carmen, the twins, Wilson, Nikkya, Audrey, Leo, Yuki, Annie, and Annie’s little sister (to be nice). Then she nodded. “Ten is perfect,” she said. “And I want to have kitty invitations and kitty cupcakes.”

Mom smiled. “Of course you do,” she said.

A little later, as Mia tossed a handful of raisins into the big wooden salad bowl, she heard the front door open. “Dad’s home!” she yelled. She ran into the hallway to greet him.

“Daddy, we got a new foster cat!”

“I heard, I heard,” Dad said. “I guess you’re happy about that.”

“Not just happy,” Mia said. “I’m—I’m”—she remembered a word Ms. Rivera had used in class the other day—“elated! You’ve got to see her. She’s beautiful.”

“Okay, Miss Elated Mia May. Just let me put my bag down first.”

When he’d dropped his bag and keys, Mia led Dad over to the carrier.

“You haven’t let her out yet?” he asked.

“No, she hasn’t
come
out yet,” Mia corrected him. “We’re letting her take her time.”

“Look at that collar!” Dad said. He whistled. “Pretty fancy!”

“Nonna Kate says she looks like royalty,” Mia said.

“She acts like it, too,” Michael said. “She thinks she’s too good for us commoners.”

“That’s not true,” Mia said.

The doorbell rang. “That’s the pizza!” Mom called from the kitchen.

“I’ll get it,” Dad called back, pulling out his wallet.

Mia and her family sat down to eat—the pizza was Mia’s favorite, a pie with onions and extra cheese—but Mia couldn’t concentrate on dinner. Mom frowned at her. “Mia, I’m going to ask you to change seats if you can’t stop staring at the cat,” she said.

Mia looked up. “There’s something wrong,” she said. “Duchess hasn’t meowed. Not even once.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Dad suggested. “Remember Otis? His meow was more than we could handle.”

Mia smiled. Otis, the last cat they had fostered, had a habit of yowling all night. Nobody had gotten much sleep during the time they’d had Otis—except for Mia, who could sleep through anything.

“Honey, maybe Duchess is just a little sad,”
Mom said. “It’s natural. She’s going to miss Abby and her old home for a while.”

Mia sighed. “Maybe we need to know more about how to take care of her. Wasn’t Abby going to send us an email with more information? Can you write to her?”

“I think Abby has enough going on right now. Maybe you could call your friend Logan. They’re neighbors, right? He probably knows a little about Duchess.”

“Logan’s not my friend,” said Mia. She was still mad at him for not calling her when he’d said he would.

Later, as Mia helped clear the table, she looked over at Duchess. The cat was sleeping—not on the comfy pillow Abby had given them, but inside the carrier. Duchess was curled up in a white ball, her nose tucked neatly under her fluffy tail. With her eyes closed, she looked peaceful. Mia wanted her to be that happy when she was awake. But what would make Duchess happy?
Mia had no idea. Any bit of information would help, wouldn’t it? “Okay, I’ll call Logan,” she said, as she brought the last dirty dishes into the kitchen.

“Just keep it short,” said Dad. “It’s almost bedtime.”

“I’ll be quick,” Mia said. It wouldn’t take long. How much could Logan really tell her? After all, Duchess was a cat, not a shark.

Mia found her class list and dialed Logan’s number. When he answered the phone, Mia suddenly felt nervous. Maybe it would be better to talk to his mom. But she took a deep breath and jumped in. “Hi, Logan. It’s Mia Battelli. We picked up Duchess today.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, after your mom talked to my mom.” Mia bit her lip, remembering again how mad she’d been at Logan. But that wasn’t why she’d called. That wasn’t important anymore, now that they had Duchess. “Thanks for telling us about her.”

“No problem. I told my mom you’d take really good care of her.”

“Um, thanks,” Mia said. “Well, I don’t know if you can help, but I’m calling because we didn’t get to talk to Abby very long, and we want to know more about Duchess. You know, what she likes and stuff like that.”

“Hmm, I don’t know that much about her,” Logan said.

Mia rolled her eyes. This call was a waste of time. Why ask a shark boy when you needed cat facts?

But then Logan went on. “I mean, Abby got Duchess as a present about four years ago. I remember because it was right when my little brother was born. Abby used to bring Duchess over to our house all the time for visits. Duchess usually just slept in her lap. But whenever Abby brought her windup mouse, Duchess would pounce on it over and over. She never got tired. My little brother thought it was hilarious. And Abby used to sit with Duchess on the porch and brush her
for hours. Seriously.” Logan paused. “But I haven’t seen Duchess much since the twins were born.”

Mia scribbled down just what Logan said, but she had a hard time keeping up. He might not think it was much, but to Mia this was treasured information.

“I don’t know if that helps.”

“I think it will,” Mia said, and she meant it.

“Mia, honey.” Dad tapped his watch. “Bedtime.”

“I’m sorry, Logan,” she said. “I better go.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Mia.”

Mia said good-bye and hung up. Logan had actually been kind of nice!

Mom walked into the kitchen. “Maybe you should invite Logan to your party.”

“Um, maybe,” Mia said. She headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth. What was Mom thinking? He might have been nice this one time, but it wasn’t as if she and Logan Barrow were friends.

The next morning, on her way through the living room, Mia checked the carrier. It was empty! Duchess had finally come out. But where had she gone? Mia held her breath as she knocked on Michael’s door. “Is the cat in there?” Mia asked, her fingers crossed.

“Nope.”

Phew! Mia was glad Duchess had come out of the carrier, but she would
not
have been glad if Duchess had slept with Michael, who didn’t even care about her that much. But if Duchess wasn’t in the carrier and she wasn’t in Michael’s room, where was she?

That was when Mia got a whiff of breakfast. Bacon. As soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen
doorway, she saw Duchess. The white cat sat on the wooden floor in a patch of sun. She practically glowed in the morning light as she sniffed the air and licked her chops.

Mom looked up and smiled. “Look who’s hungry,” she said. It took Mia a second to realize that Mom meant Duchess. “She didn’t touch her food from last night, but I’ll bet she eats this morning.”

Duchess had her chin up and her ears pricked forward. Her nose quivered as she smelled the bacon. Mia slowly walked up to her, reached out a hand, and scratched behind her ear. Duchess ducked her head and walked away.

Why is she petting me now? Can’t she see I’m hungry?

“Can I feed her?” Mia asked.

“Sure, her food’s in the fridge,” Mom said. “I found a couple of tins in the bag with her other stuff after you went to bed.”

Mia frowned. Their other foster cats hadn’t eaten canned food. They had both loved Kitty Nibbles, which came in a big yellow bag. Oh, well. Every cat was different. That was part of the fun of fostering. She got a can from the fridge and grabbed a spoon. “Here, Duchess,” she said as she plopped a heaping spoonful of Savory Salmon Stew into a bowl. Duchess didn’t move. Mia tapped the spoon against the bowl the way she’d seen people do on commercials. “Yummy salmon for you,” she sang. “Doesn’t it smell delicious?” Actually, Mia thought it was the stinkiest stuff she’d ever smelled, but she knew cats liked fish.

Duchess glared at Mia with ice-blue eyes and flicked her silky tail back and forth.

Cat food. Ha! I don’t want cat food. I want what the woman is cooking. I’m sure she’s making it for me.

“It’s time for breakfast. Just leave her food by the water bowl and wash up, Mia.” Mom patted the bacon with a paper towel and put it on a platter. “Dad had to leave early, so all this bacon is just for us.”

“Yum,” said Mia. She loved bacon.

Duchess followed Mom to the table, walking right past her savory salmon. Mia frowned.

Duchess sat next to Mom’s chair and stared up at her. “Your food is in the kitchen, Duchess,” Mom said as she ate a bite of oatmeal. She smiled at Michael, who had just joined them, then turned back to shake her head at Mia. “And, Mia, remember you can’t play with Duchess while you’re at the table. It’s time to eat.”

Mia sighed and slumped down in her seat as she nibbled a piece of bacon. Mom always came up with lots of rules when they had a foster cat. Mia looked at the kitty, who was winding herself elegantly around Mom’s legs. Even if she couldn’t
play with Duchess, she could talk about her. “Want to hear what Logan said about Duchess?” Mia asked. She told Mom and Michael everything she had learned.

“So she’s used to lots of attention,” Michael said.

Mia nodded. “At least she used to be. But remember while we were there, Mom? Abby was always leaving to check on the twins.”

“So maybe Abby’s been too busy lately,” Mom said.

Mia nodded. Then she saw Duchess jump up into Dad’s empty chair. Surprised, Mia stared at the cat. Uh-oh. Mom wasn’t going to like that! Slowly, the white cat put her front paws on the table. Her long white whiskers twitched as she sniffed the air with her pink nose.

Oh, that smells so good. Where is mine? I’m so hungry, and they aren’t sharing. That’s not very nice.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Mom waved her hand at Duchess, who quickly jumped to the floor. “That’s right. Go eat your own food,” Mom said.

“She might be royalty, but she has horrible manners,” Michael said. Duchess walked straight into the kitchen, her tail whipping back and forth.

Mom looked as if she wanted to giggle as she watched Duchess sashay away. Then her face got serious again. “No cats at the table,” she said.

Another rule,
thought Mia. Wouldn’t it be better to spend their time figuring out how to make Duchess happy, instead of making up rule after rule?

That day at school, Mia spent a lot of time daydreaming about Duchess and thinking about what Logan had told her. By the time she met Michael by the stairs, she was sure she had figured out what to do to make Duchess feel at home.

“We have to brush her,” Mia said as soon as she saw her brother. “She loves it. Plus it’s super
important to keep her long fur from getting knots in it.”

“I was thinking that, too,” Michael said.

Mia looked at him doubtfully.

“I was!” he said. “Didn’t Logan tell you that Abby made a big deal out of brushing her all the time?”

“Right,” Mia said. “So we should make a big deal out of it, too.”

As soon as they got home, Mia found three brushes and two combs in Duchess’s bag. Next she found Duchess in the dining room, sprawled out on Dad’s chair. “Sorry, girl,” Mia said as she scratched Duchess under the chin, “you’re not allowed on there.” Mom was working in the backyard. If she saw Duchess at the table again, she would not be happy. Gently, Mia lifted Duchess off the chair. She sat down on the rug next to the pile of brushes and pulled Duchess onto her lap, but Duchess quickly stood up and started to walk away.

“She’s too big for my lap,” Mia complained to Michael, who had just come in from the kitchen.

“Don’t give up so easily.” Michael picked Duchess up and sat down next to Mia. “Now, I’ll hold her and you brush.”

Mia looked at the three brushes and chose a pink one with rubber bristles. “You’ll like this, Duchess,” Mia promised. Duchess looked at the brush, blinked her eyes, and relaxed in Michael’s lap. As Mia started running the brush along her back, Duchess craned her neck around to smell Mia’s hand.

It’s been so long since I’ve had a good brushing. I have to admit it feels wonderful, even when this commoner does it.

“I’m going to do your tummy,” Mia said, but as soon as she started to brush the longer hair on Duchess’s belly, the brush stopped on a tangled
clump. Mia gave it a tug, but the brush was stuck. The cat’s ears went back.

Duchess hissed, stood up, and walked away with the brush still hanging from the matted hair on her tummy. Then she stopped and bit at the brush.

Mia frowned. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“We can’t just leave it there,” Michael said.

Mia hurried after the cat. “Wait, Duchess, I’ll help you. It won’t hurt, I promise.” Duchess stood still as Mia carefully reached under her belly, using one hand to hold the hair and the other to loosen the brush until it came out. “There,” Mia said. Duchess quickly sat down and started licking the spot where the brush had been tangled.

Thank goodness she got that thing off me. I love to be brushed, but I hate when it hurts. I don’t really trust kids—like those little ones who took up all of my person’s attention. But I suppose this girl is doing her best.

Duchess looked at Mia and blinked her blue eyes. Then she leaned forward and licked Mia’s hand with her rough pink tongue.

Mia was flattered. Finally! Maybe Duchess was starting to like her. “Her tongue’s like sandpaper,” she said with a giggle. Duchess strutted away and jumped right back onto Dad’s chair.