Page 33 of Liar Byrd
And yet, whenever it wanted attention, food, or anything at all, it came meowing to me.
I started wearing a pair of Nance’s oven mitts when it got too close. It made it a mission to bite through the mitts. I shut the door on it, and it would scratch and yowl until it annoyed me so much I opened the damn door, and it would wander in, plunk itself on my rug, and stare at me through narrowed yellow eyes.
I hated the thing, but no one cried harder than I did when the stupid cat died.
“I hated it,” I tell Nance for the thousandth time, because she never truly believed I did.
Her eyebrow rises. “Then why did you keep feeding him?”
“Because it was hungry, and it kept expectingmeto feed it.”
“Have you ever considered that Reginaldlikedyou and wanted you to be his friend?”
I scrub a hand over my face. “I can’t believe you named that Satan of a cat Reginald. It was a ridiculous name for a cat.” I pull down one sleeve of my shirt, exposing my arm to show the faint, old scars to remind her of the damage. “Lookat what that demon cat did to me.”
She lifts her chin. “Reginald is a dignified name.”
She says nothing about the scratches, but I expected that. She picked up the cat, and it purred. I picked up the cat, and it bit. She was blind to all of Reginald’s failings.
I yank my sleeve back down. “Fitting for a cat that liked to sit on its fat ass all day and swipe at anyone who tried to pet it.”
“You needed afriend.”
I stare at her. “A cat isn’t a friend, Nance. A cat is apet.”
“Reginald was a valued family member who always expressed his feelings openly,” she corrects me. I start to complain, but she raises a finger. “And you forget I saw you playing catch with Reginald in the garden and snuggling on the armchair in the library. You lied about it, but you think I don’t know when you’re lying?”
Defeated, I shake my head. “Drop it, Nance.”
She lowers her finger and softens her tone. “Don’t let people think you’re less than you are, Mr. Gabriel. You need to open up to others, not stay shut in alone. Being alone all the time isn’t healthy. Makhi and Vonn were a step in the right direction, but you are all as bad as each other now.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Nash?” I mutter. “No twenty-four-year-old should have a name that belonged to his dad. It makes me feel old,” I add, knowing I’m fighting a losing battle. Nance is set in her ways. The only change she likes is occasionally trying out a new recipe on a Friday night.
“You’re now the master of this house. That makes you Mr. Gabriel," she says, pushing herself up from her chair.
It’s a slow process, and I’m reminded that she’s been around all my life, and one day, she won’t be. There’s something so painful about that thought that I try never to think of it.
She continues, “I suppose she’ll need other things besides just a uniform.”
As I imagined how empty this house would feel without Nance, she wandered over to the sink to start washing up.
I frown. “Other things?”
She turns around. “Shower items, beauty products, maybe some additional clothes.”
“Does that mean you approve?”
“It means I will give her a chance to prove herself.”
I nod. “Whatever you think she might need. None of the guest bedrooms have toiletries.” It’s been a while since I’ve been in the guest rooms. “At least, I don’t think they do. I didn’t think to check.”
She stops washing, though she doesn’t turn to face me. “She’s staying in one of the guest rooms?”
“If you saw her reaction when I told her about the staff quarters in the basement, you’d know why I put her up there.” I eat another bite of stew and get to my feet. “And it’s not like we have guests anymore. We might as well use them.”
She nods and continues washing.
I watch her for a bit, thinking about our new maid.
