Read Online Who's Kitten Who? by Cynthia Baxter - Free Book Online Page A

tinged with desperation.
    I knew I was about to let her down even further by announcing that for the moment she was stuck with me.
    “He should be home any minute,” I replied, hoping that just saying the words would make them come true. “Why don’t you come inside and get settled?”
    It was only then that I remembered what “inside” looked like. But I couldn’t very well leave my future in-laws standing in the driveway, no matter how tempting that proposition might be.
    “I loved this skirt,” Dorothy moaned as she and Mitzi-Bitzi followed me inside.
    Henry, who’d been left behind to deal with every single piece of luggage, said, “But, Dottie! You were just saying in the car that you thought it made you look ten pounds heavier!”
    “I said no such thing,” she snapped. “I would never own a garment that didn’t show off my figure to its best advantage!”
    As soon as she strutted inside with her little white dog still in her arms, she froze, causing me to bump into her and transfer orange paint from my clothes onto hers. She didn’t seem to notice.
    “Heavens!” she cried. “Your house has been vandalized!”
    “I’m afraid not,” I said. “The dogs got a little rambunctious today, that’s all.”
    She turned around and studied me for what seemed like a very long time. “I thought dogs were your business.”
    “Yes, but…” I didn’t see any point in trying to explain. Instead, I swept as many of the feathers and toilet paper garlands off the couch as I could and said, “Why don’t you sit down? What can I get you? Coffee? A cold drink? Wine?”
    I must admit, I was kind of hoping for the wine option.
    “Coffee would be fabulous,” Dorothy replied, settling into one corner of the couch with Mitzi in her lap. “In fact, I need some liquid refreshment before I can muster up the energy required to unpack and put on some
clean
clothes. I take my coffee light but not too light, about two-thirds half-and-half and the rest one percent milk. One and a half packets of Equal. And stir it really well.”
    She thinks she’s in Starbucks, I thought scornfully, translating her order as coffee with milk and sugar. I glanced over at Henry, who had collapsed in the toilet paper–strewn upholstered chair, no doubt exhausted from hauling in a good portion of the suitcases. I wondered if it was simply coincidence that he’d sat as far away as a person could get from Dorothy without leaving the room. “What about you, Henry? Milk? Sugar?”
    “Black.”
    I was starting to like this man.
    “Dottie,” I heard him say as I retreated to the kitchen, “I don’t suppose you brought any antihistamines. If I didn’t know better, I’d think there were cats in this house…. Ah-ah-ah-
choo
!”
    I froze in the doorway. “Don’t tell me you’re allergic to cats,” I said weakly.
    “Deathly allergic,” Dorothy snapped. “He can’t tolerate being around them. Most people think it’s the fur that’s the problem, but it’s actually the dander. Those are teensy-weensy flakes of dried saliva on their skin—”
    “I know what cat dander is,” I muttered.
    “But you don’t have any, do you?” she asked anxiously. “Cats, I mean?”
    “I have two,” I admitted.
    “Don’t worry, Jessica,” Henry said. “If I can just take something for my allergies, I’ll be—ah-choo! Ahchoo! Ah-
cho-o-o-o
!”
    “I think I have some Benadryl,” I said. “Will that help?”
    “Definitely,” Dorothy replied.
    “It does tend to make me a little tired,” Henry added.
    “Take it,” his wife ordered. “I can’t stand to listen to all that annoying sneezing.”
    First I went to the bathroom and got the Benadryl, along with a glass of water. Then I grabbed poor Cat and Tinkerbell and jailed them in the bedroom. I knew it wouldn’t make much of a difference, since the cottage was covered with cat hairs, but at least it would look like I was trying to do something constructive. Next I went into the