His patience at being ignored having all run out, Norman began to meow on the other side of the door. “I’d better let him in or he’ll keep that up all night.”
Mike chuckled. “Since neither of us wants to risk his wrath, I suppose you’d better do what he demands.”
The moment the bedroom door opened, Norman padded across the room and leaped onto the bed. Mike greeted him with a chuckle.
Leaving them to entertain each other, Catherine moved into the bathroom and closed the door. She was giving herself privacy for her bedtime preparations—and a few moments alone to make sure her composure was firmly under control. Searching her freshly scrubbed face, she was satisfied that she looked serene and almost nonchalant about having Mike in her bed. Which proved that she had more acting ability than she had ever suspected.
After donning a short nightgown, she crawled beneath the covers with Mike, who had returned from his own trip to the bathroom and was now lying on his back with Norman curled on his chest. Mike reached out and pulled Catherine onto his right shoulder, snuggling her close with his right arm while his left hand rested lightly on her contented pet.
Catherine closed her eyes and listened to Mike’s heart beating steadily in his chest, the sound almost drowned out by Norman’s loud purring. She realized that she was very close to purring herself. Yet just beneath the pleasant sounds she was aware of a small, insistent voice warning her that this wasn’t wise. That she shouldn’t allow herself to become too addicted to Mike’s presence.
This couldn’t last, that inner voice reminded her. She would be alone in her bed again soon enough—with the exception of Norman, of course—and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to find herself hurting and lonely on those nights. Despite her longing for someone to share her life with, she had been fairly happy and satisfied before. Her heart had been intact, and she wanted it to stay that way.
Even as that thought crossed her mind, a hard ache deep inside her chest made her wonder if it was already too late to protect that vulnerable organ.
Mike stayed all night. They slept in, then locked Norman out of the room for a while again. By the time they were finally ready to leave the bed, it was late morning.
Mike left only long enough to change into fresh clothing in his own apartment, since Catherine had invited him to join her for lunch. He was gone less than an hour, and she used that time to call her lab and arrange for someone else to check on her ongoing exp
eriment. She rarely took an entire day away from the lab, but she had quite a few favors to call in, since she was often asked to do things by the others who knew she could usually be counted on to be there.
By the time Mike returned, she had a good start on lunch. Becoming familiar with his culinary preferences, she kept the menu simple. Baked chicken breasts with wild rice and vegetables, and crusty wheat rolls. Using some prepackaged mixes for convenience, she had the meal ready in a short time.
“This is great, Catherine,” he said, digging into the food with visible appreciation. “You didn’t tell me you were such a good cook.”
She laughed. “I’m not a gourmet chef, like Karen. Most of this meal came out of boxes or the freezer.”
“Well, it’s good,” he insisted. “I tend to eat too many pizzas and sandwiches on my own.”
Catherine stabbed her fork into a tender baby carrot. “No veggies? My mother would be appalled.”
“So would mine.” He chewed, swallowed, then took a sip of his iced tea before asking, “What’s your mother like? Pretty much all I know about her is that she doesn’t approve of trick-or-treating.”
“I don’t know. How do you describe your mother? She’s smart. Funny, in a quiet way. Loving, yet very firm with her rules and expectations. Her students like her, but they know she won’t let them get away with much. I was the same way.”
“Strict, huh?”
“Not excessively so. More so than many parents, I suppose.”
“My mom’s pretty firm about her rules, too. I knew if I ever got into trouble at school, I could expect to double that at home. She didn’t tolerate cursing, drugs or drinking from her kids, and we’d better be home by curfew or suffer the consequences.”
Amused, she asked, “What were the consequences?”
“A ‘mama lecture.’ They could go on for hours, and leave our ears ringing. For a little bitty woman, she could get pretty darned loud.”
She could tell by his tone that he was crazy about his mother, something she had already figured out about him. “What about your father?”
“Mom’s total opposite. He’d have let us get away with just about anything, so it’s a good thing she was so strict or we’d have all been hellions. Especially the girls. They all have Dad wrapped around their little fingers. The only time he got strict with them was when they started dating, and he had a way of making their dates shake in their sneakers with his suspicious looks and his pointed questions.”
“My father is so much like my mother that it’s almost scary,” Catherine confided. “They finish each other’s sentences. They like the same books and movies and music. They never quarrel.”
“Never?” He looked startled by that.
“Never. At least, not about anything important. They do enjoy debating current events. They take turns arguing the liberal and conservative interpretations.”
“Damn, Catherine, that’s scary.”
She laughed. “Tell me about it. My friends thought I had the weirdest parents ever. Especially when Dad cracked jokes about the Pythagorean theorem and Euclidean geometry. You would be surprised at the corny and obscure puns he can make with math terms.”