Page 24 of Pete and His Precious

Which was very good, by the way. The best meal I’ve had in months; the first meal that didn’t involve rice and beans in months.

Of course I enjoyed it. I ate every bite and every bite I ate made me feel more and more guilty.

So, when I heard something going on in the hall, I hoped that it was him, so I would have a chance to redeem myself.

Flipper helped me out by running over to the bird. That was definitely not planned. I’m not sure what got into my cat. Usually he’s so lazy he can barely get himself off the couch and move himself to his feed bowl, let alone his litter box.

That’s about all the exercise Flipper gets everyday, and he is perfectly content with it. I’ve not seen him move so fast since he was a kitten.

Regardless, he gave me the opening I needed. But instead of it being an opening, I said some weird stuff. I’m not even sure I want to remember what I said, and then Pete acted like he couldn’t stand me, and couldn’t wait to get me out of his apartment. Like he was hiding a body in there or something.

I tilt my head. Probably not. Pete seems like one of those guys who walk the straight and narrow. I kind of like that. In fact, Ireally like that. There are so many people who don’t. I’ve met more than a few of them, and they act...a little bit like I did today, allowing him to buy my meal, even though I knew that I was standing him up, and leaving without talking to him at all.

In my defense, I was surprised that my date was the cop who arrested me, but that doesn’t really give me an excuse.

I sigh. My attempt at reconciliation went awry. And tomorrow, I’m not going to have another opportunity because I have the library field trip out to the farm. Sunday after church I have the meal with my family, and then Kylie will be leaving for Paris the next day. She never told me whether she actually hired Pete to watch Baxley or not.

Still, the possibility was there. Maybe I would be seeing a lot more of him, and for some reason, the idea didn’t seem nearly as bad as it had before.

“What got into you, Flipper?” I ask, as I walk into my living room and pick her up off of the spot where she’s already sleeping. I sit down in the chair with her in my lap, and stroke her long fur.

One of the things with a long-haired cat is the cat hair gets everywhere. I spend a good bit of time brushing her out, just to try to keep the fur balls down to a minimum. I don’t really mind it, except it does get in my food, and that is kind of gross. Beans and rice aren’t the best to begin with, but beans rice and cat hair are especially nauseous.

Flipper doesn’t mean to do it, though, and I certainly don’t hold it against her. I can’t imagine living in an apartment by myself without a pet.

I should go finish the book I am working on. If I get that done, I can work some more on my public domain works. Those are what are bringing in my, not exactly steady, money that fills in the cracks between jobs. Even though I have auditioned for several different books, nothing has come of it.

I pet Flipper just a bit more, and then force myself out of the chair, and into my bedroom where I have my booth set up in the closet.

Okay. Maybe it is a little easier to go into the booth knowing Pete might be on the other side.

I am working toward the climax of the book, and I have to have the appropriate amount of emotion in the narrative and characters’ voices.

I sit, thinking for a little bit to get my mind into the story, and then I clear my throat and began, “I want to wake up every morning beside you, Precious. I want to see the sunshine in your smile. I want to spend my days making you the happiest woman on earth, my precious. I want to fall into your arms and feel your sweet love around me every night. Please, say that you will be mine.”

This book was a lot more syrupy than what I am partial to, but I didn’t write it, and I have to do my best.

I continue, “I will be yours, my darling love. They embraced, fervently, passionately, and then his lips descended on hers, desperately, like a man who was starving for his last sip of water. He raised his head and looked into her starstruck eyes. “I love you. I will love you forever. As long as I have breath, my precious darling, I will be yours.”

‘Oh! My precious. I will be yours. I will be yours as well. As long as we are together, I will be totally and perfectly satisfied, forever.’”

“I guess I’m not quite believing that, after the way you stood me up at dinner.”

I allow a huge smile to break across my face.

“Really?” I say in my most sultry tone. “Maybe this girl just needs to be chased a little,” I say. Knowing that I’m not any good at saying all the syrupy words that almost make me want to gag in the book I’m was doing. It is terrible that those scenesmake me squirm, but they just seem too...much. Maybe I am being too critical, or maybe I am getting jaded with my job. But I like the older books better. The books that leave a little bit to the imagination. Or, maybe ones that don’t have such...fake declarations in them.

But, I normally like romance. Like the idea of a man pledging his life to a woman, and meaning it. Maybe I’m just bitter because it hasn’t happened to me. And I’m not any good at romance anyway.

“Really? Maybe you should give me a chance to make it up to you.”

“Are you inviting my cat over to hang out with your bird?”

“Could be.”

“All right. I think Flipper accepts.”

“Don’t you want to go check?”

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