Tattoo Book 6.8
Posted by harmony0stars on May 12, 2010
The spotted cat opened his eyes and turned his head to stare at her. Which she was pretty sure was cat-speak for duh. “It’s safe, safer than it was at the museum at any rate. Which you probably already know, since you weren’t able to get inside, were you? So if that‘s all you’re here about, you don’t have to worry. No one can get in there but me.”
Turning his head away with an annoyed air, he made a pretense of laying his head down on his paws and closing his eyes. “You’re being rude,” Glory announced. “Which I guess is par for course with cats, but the way I see it, we’re both trying to stop whoever has been robbing the museums. Or am I mistaken? Are you some kind of cat-burglar intent upon stealing the stone yourself?”
He opened his eyes and gave her a nasty look. “You could just explain yourself, and I could dispense with any more bad puns. No? Well, I was bluffing any way. That’s the only one I could come up with. You can just stay up here until you’re ready to explain yourself. I don’t think Edgar will try to eat you again, but since he doesn’t talk, I never know how much he understands when I tell him something.”
She paused at the door. “I’ll bring you some water and something to eat. Any requests?” The cat turned his head away again and closed his eyes. Glory shrugged, annoyed but feeling stupid for trying to talk to a cat at all. She was surprised he’d bothered to respond to anything she’d said at all.
“You guys want BLTs for lunch?” she called into the living room. Robert was playing a video game, while Edgar hooted and shrieked with delight with every blood curdling scream from the screen. She could only imagine what he was playing, some gory hack-n-slash RPG no doubt. When no reply was forthcoming, she shrugged and turned to go into the kitchen.
“I wouldn’t cook any b-a-c-o-n,” Robert called out, and Edgar poked his head over the sofa, looking from him to her expectantly. “Edgar goes crazy for the stuff. Besides, I think we‘re out.” Edgar looked disappointed at the news.
“Tuna?” she asked, too relieved that he was finally talking to her to tell him that Edgar could spell. Robert just grunted.
She went into the kitchen and started dicing some celery, onions, and carrots for tuna salad, setting a small bowl of tuna aside for the cat. Edgar wandered into the kitchen and wrinkled his nose at the vegetables. He sat at her feet and made puppy dog eyes at her. “Sorry little man, the veggies get mixed in.” She glanced down at him and offered him a small morsel of tuna. “Edgar, don’t sit on the floor. Use a chair, please.”
He got up and sat at the table, sniffing the bit of tuna before stuffing it into his mouth. Edgar watched expectantly as she prepared lunch. His expression became skeptical as she added mayo and a little honey Dijon. Spreading the tuna salad on toast with some pepper and a slice of tomato, she set it on a plate in front of him where he looked from it to her with an expression of disbelief. He’d apparently liked the unadulterated tuna just fine and was perplexed as to why she’d spoiled it by adding everything else.
Glory snorted. “Try it before you turn your nose up at it. Robert! Lunch!” she called, though she wasn’t sure if he’d be joining them. She made another sandwich and set it on the table for him.
Robert arrived a few minutes later, wearing a surly expression. He’d obviously expected her to bring his food into him. Pausing at the table, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, seeming to consider his chances of leaving the room with his food. With a sigh he sat, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
“I hate tuna salad,” he muttered. Edgar hooted gleefully. He’d already eaten his sandwich and was possibly looking forward to eating Robert’s as well. “Aren’t you eating?” Robert asked.
“I already did,” she replied.
“No, you didn’t,” he muttered, biting into his sandwich. Robert looked surprised, and chewed with a little bit more enthusiasm than with which he‘d taken the bite. He swallowed and glanced back at her irritably, setting the sandwich down on his plate. “I think you’d avoid eating at all if it weren’t for us. I’ve been watching. You only eat dinner if someone‘s around to watch you beginning to end. Mostly you just move the food around on your plate until we’re done and pass Edgar bits from your plate. Are you… anorexic?”
“Edgar watched me eat,” she replied casually.
“Yeah, like he’d say anything or even know what anorexia is.”
“I’m not anorexic.”
Robert scowled. “I bet if I got up and looked in the sink, there’d be no plate.”
Glory blinked in surprise. “What is this about, Robert? You won’t speak to me for a week, and then you accuse me of being anorexic. Seriously. Are you angry at me or worried for me?”
He didn’t say anything a few minutes. “My sister took care of me after our parents died, but… it was a lot of stress, and I wasn’t very helpful.” He wouldn’t look at her as he continued. “I didn’t even notice when she stopped eating or how many jobs she was holding down just to keep a roof over our heads. I just…” He shook his head, refusing to go on.
“I’m sorry about your sister, Robert. I swear I’m not anorexic. What I am would be difficult to explain, but I am not anorexic, okay?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He picked up his sandwich and shoved it in his mouth, eating half of it in one bite. He shoved the rest of it in his mouth as he stood and stalked back to the living room.
to Book 6, page 9