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“Oh, dear,” said Marge in a choked voice, and tears trickled from her eyes as she took a seat. “My baby is getting married.”

Odelia was quick to place an arm around her mother’s shoulder, and as Marge dried her eyes, Scarlett announced, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say, and now seems like a good time to say it. Vesta and I have been best enemies for years, but before that we were best friends. I made a terrible mistake many, many years ago, and I’veapologized to her, but now I’d like to apologize to you, especially Marge and Alec.”

“There’s no need, Scarlett,” said Vesta.

“Really, Scarlett, it’s fine,” said Marge.

“No, I want to apologize for my terrible judgment and I wanted to add that I’m grateful—extremely grateful—that the rift it caused between our families has finally been healed, because of Vesta’s big heart and…” She was sniffling, and soon needed a tissue, which Marge gladly handed her. “As I was saying, Vesta and I were frenemies for many, many years, and…”

Vesta smiled.“You said frenemies.”

“I did, didn’t?” said Scarlett, smiling through her tears. “Well, I’m just glad we’re friends again. I missed you, buddy.”

“And I missed you,” said Vesta, and both women hugged, and Marge started crying again, and even Chase had tears in his eyes. In fact when I looked around the table, everyone was wiping away tears.

“Why is everybody crying, Max?” asked Dooley, concerned. “Is something wrong?”

“Tears of happiness, Dooley,” I said. “It’s a different kind of tears. The good kind.”

“So there’s a bad kind and a good kind?”

“Exactly, and this is all good. Everybody’s happy. In fact they’re so happy they’re crying.”

“So weird,” said Dooley, shaking his head.

“That’s humans for you,” said Brutus. “They cry when they’re happy, and they laugh when they’re sad. It’s all very confusing.”

He was right, of course, though I could still read my human perfectly, and even though she was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, I could tell she was happy. Very happy indeed. And when my human is happy, I’m happy, too.

You can call me a pussy, and you’d be right, but I’m the kind of cat who basks in my human’s happiness, and feels for her when she’s sad. And as I watched on, my own eyes a little moist, suddenly I became aware of little steps sounding behind me. And when I turned, I saw that three white mice were crossing the deck, carrying assorted foodstuffs in their tiny but still very muscular little paws. And when they noticed me noticing them, the first one said, in a kind of hushed voice, “Don’t tell our pa, will you, Max!”

“Yeah, it’s just this once,” said the second one.

“It’s the smell,” explained the third. “So hard to resist the smell of grilled meat!”

You’ll agree they made a valid point. And since I was feeling so happy, I decided there was plenty of food to share. So I whispered, “Enjoy!” and they grinned happily.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know a cat is supposed to catch mice, not encourage them to steal food from their humans, but I think we’ve already established that I’m a pussy. And proud to be one.

Though when five minutes later another two dozen mice came tripping past me, all hoisting the remnants of Tex’s grilling experiments on their tiny shoulders, I was starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, I’d made a big mistake.

Well, I guess I could always ask Dear Chloe.

23. PURRFECT PASSION

Chapter 1

“Max, can I ask you a question?”

Lazily, I opened my eyes.“Mh?”

“How come we have mice in our basement and next door they don’t?”

I shrugged. It was one of those questions no one has an answer to, and certainly not me.“I don’t know, Dooley,” I said therefore. “Maybe they like our basement better?”

This gave my friend some food for thought, and for a moment I returned to my peaceful slumber. Not for long, though, for Dooley’s train of thought was determined to make sure I got no repose whatsoever. His trains of thought are often that way, completely oblivious to my creature comforts.

“So… what is it about Odelia’s basement that makes it so appealing to mice?” he asked, launching a follow-up question that compelled me to open my eyes once more and think up a response. I have to tell you, though, it’s hard to think when all you want to do is sleep. It had been a particularly eventful night, what with cat choir running overtime, due to the fact that Shanille, cat choir’s conductor, had gotten it into her tiny nut that we should take our show on the road, and extend the kind of creative succor we’ve been providing Hampton Covians to other audiences in other towns, spreading sweetness and light and the caterwauling of a group of tone-deaf cats to all and sundry.

“I have no idea, Dooley,” I said. “Maybe we should ask them?”

This idea clearly hadn’t yet occurred to my friend, as his face lit up with delight.

“Of course!” he said. “I’ll simply go down there and ask them!”

And much to my surprise, he actually up and went!

I frowned as I watched him go.“Um, Dooley?” I said.

He turned, a smile spread across his furry features.“Yes, Max?”