Couples

Chapter 128

The mist from the water cascading down the flat stones lends an extra chill to already frigid predawn air, but Jack hardly feels it. The Waterfalls in Central Park had been his meeting spot with Azra. Isolated, it rarely got much foot traffic. And given the time and temperature, he doubts it will get any now – except for him, and if he interpreted her message right, Azra.

He won't hear her coming. The identity she assumed won't allow for footwear as immodest as heels that might click against a path or rocks. And in any case, both of them learned the art of silent motion decades before. If they hadn't, any meeting they'd have would be in the great beyond, whatever that is.

But only one path leads to where he's waiting, and Jack's eyes are firmly focused on it. With her hair covered by a grey knit cap and wearing a heavy grey coat, it seems as if Azra materializes from the fog. "You must have gone to a lot of trouble to find me, Jack."

"I always do what's necessary. You know that, Tent Woman."

Azra smiles at the appellation. "I hoped that would get your attention. So, Jack, you broke through the best cover the agency could construct. I'm here, and you're here. Now, what?'

Jack scrubs his large hand over a face not quite free of white stubble. "I don't know. I suppose we could do the dance of meeting as strangers. Do you normally go anywhere but the building I found you and whatever the terminus of the secret train is?"

"You found that too?" Azra rolls her eyes. "The agency really is slipping."

"Or maybe I just know all its tricks. I've been around through the development of a lot of them."

"That makes two of us. We're the old guard, Jack. We've already dealt with what the kids think is new. But to answer your question, other than my apartment, which is carefully monitored, I don't go many places. I have no reason to. But I frequent a little middle eastern market on Atlantic Avenue. The place fits my new identity and also sells a lot of the stuff I grew up on. It has a little meeting area where people can sit with a coffee. It also has halvah and baklava that are out of this world. We could meet up there, as long as we don't do it too often. I have an assignment for tonight, but it's short-term. When I can make it to the market, I usually arrive around nineteen hundred."

"Noted," Jack responds. "And I love halvah."

Azra grins. "I remember."

With Lily sitting between them, Rick and Kate are ready to hold her back from running down the aisle to pat the kitties or the horses. The circus has both, the cats being the far more remarkable of the two. "Kitties smart!" Lily observes.

"They are," Rick agrees.

"Want kitty!" Lily declares.

Rick surveys the doubtful look on Kate's face. "You know, the way Lily loves animals, that might not be a bad idea. We wouldn't have to worry about getting it walked, like a dog. And she'd learn what taking care of an animal of the unstuffed persuasion is like."

"If she tries to drag a cat around the way she does Gamoee or Pegin, she might learn the hard way," Kate points outs.

"True enough," Rick agrees, "although I knew a couple of backstage cats who were incredibly tolerant. And if our nascent animal lover is going to learn how to behave around the real thing, she's going to need a pet sooner or later."

Kate's eyes narrow in the look that Rick dreads. "Later is when we'll talk about it."

Rick gazes down at Lily, expecting further demands. But she's already been distracted by a parade of clowns. So a pet's been tabled – for now.

That stray cats search for meals behind Imagination Patch is nothing new. Eventually, they figure out how to climb into the dumpster and choose from a feline smorgasbord. But the receptacle was emptied early that morning and has yet to receive the first bags of the day. Outside the restaurant's back door, a cat mewls pitifully.

Ben would never allow anything in the kitchen that even vaguely looked or smelled like commercial cat food, and Christine's never had a cat of her own. But she assumes that the small pieces of meat that go in the pot pies would make the visitor content or at least quieter. She fills the bottom of a small to-go container and quickly slips it outside the door. In the welcome silence that follows, she sighs and goes back to work.

"There's a cat sitting right outside the back door," a server remarks while washing up after delivering a full bag to the dumpster.

"That must be the one I fed a couple of hours ago," Christine realizes. "I thought it would go away when it was finished eating."

Madison turns around, laughing. "Christine, you know the kitchen, but you don't know much about scavengers. When you find a place to eat, you keep it. That's how I ended up here. That cat will be around forever."

"Maybe that's not so bad," Christine considers. "If Be-, um Chef Auchincloss doesn't mind, maybe it could be like a mascot or something – the Imagination Patch cat."

"You don't want a wild cat as a mascot," Madison warns. "I came up against a couple of those when I was fighting for scraps myself. I backed off. Those claws are nothing to fool around with, and the infection from a cat bite can send a person to hospital. I saw it happen on the street."

"I don't think it's wild," Christine argues, "or at least it didn't start out that way. It's wearing a collar."

"It is," the server confirms.

"Then maybe the owner couldn't take care of it anymore, and it went to find food on its own," Christine guesses. "Anyway, it's not doing any harm, and we have plenty of leftovers to feed it."

Madison shrugs. "Good luck with Chef."

Both Kate and Lily have helium-filled balloons when they return to the loft. Kate holds onto hers, but Rick tied the string from Lily's around her wrist so it wouldn't float off. The girl's mind is still on other things. "Kitty," she repeats for at least the twentieth time.

Rick turns to Kate. "I don't think she's going to let up. Maybe she needs another distraction, like the clowns. He hunkers down in front of his daughter. "How about a trip to Imagination Patch? You could get your pumpkin cookie."

"Punkin cookie," Lily echoes, bouncing excitedly in a pair of bright orange sneakers.

"OK, good," Rick agrees and turns back to Kate. "You want to come along? You might get in on a Kitchen Klash tasting."

Kate shakes her head. "After all that popcorn, I don't have room for a tasting of anything. Anyway, I want to check in with the boys. You go ahead."

"All right," Rick agrees. "But you could be missing out on a culinary adventure."

In the Imagination Patch kitchen, Lily is about halfway through her cookie when her eyes widen at the sound coming through the back door. "Kitty!"

Rick groans. "Who is that cat, and why is it meowing its heart out at our door?"

Christine colors. "Probably because I fed it this morning."

"Kitty!" Lily demands loudly enough for the front of the house to hear. "Lily Kitty!"

Rick shakes his head. This visit is not turning out the way he planned.