Enchanting Lily (13 page)

Either way, she needed to consciously commit to her future. She had to accept the cat or leave her at the shelter, make the shop work or let it sink, move forward or stay forever stuck, as her mother had tried to warn her. Her poor mother, who still called every few days to make sure her daughter was still alive and well.

I’m more than well. I’m great,
Lily thought. She would get to know the island people and the island for real—or leave them behind. There was no middle place.

She looked at Josh’s jacket on the mannequin, the jacket that he would never wear again. Dammit, somebody needed to wear that thing. If it fit Dr. Cole, so be it. She called the animal clinic, her heartbeat kicking up. She shifted from foot to foot. Why was she so nervous? Was it because she now knew he was single? That every woman on the island had coveted him? That he’d slept around but had remained unattainable? Was it because he was still hopelessly in love with his ex-wife?

It was only a jacket on a mannequin, for goodness’ sake.

“Island Animal Clinic,” Vanya said at the other end of the line. “How can I help you?” Her voice came through bright and friendly, putting Lily at ease.

“Vanya, it’s Lily.”

“Oh, hey! I’m wearing the vintage blue sweater. Everyone says it brings out my eyes.”

“It is a beautiful Chanel, perfect for you. Be sure to wash it by hand and don’t put it in the dryer.”

“I won’t. I’ve been talking up your shop to everyone, too. You need a business card.”

“I’m going to order them today. Um, I’d like to talk to Dr. Cole if he’s around.” She tried to sound casual, but her voice came out a little thin and strained.

“He’s in with a client at the moment. Hold on.” Vanya’s voice became muffled as she covered the receiver. She said something to a client. A dog barked in the background, and Lily almost hung up, feeling ridiculous.
No, remember, move forward. Grit your teeth. This is your life.

“So you want to leave a message for him?” Vanya said, coming back on the line.

Lily glanced out the window. The display in The Newest
Thing was in the midst of another transformation, two mannequins—one male and one female—positioned in the window. Flo was about to adorn them in some new style, but for the moment, they were both unclothed.

“Yes,” she said. “Tell him I need to measure him for the jacket, if he wants it. Otherwise I’ll sell it to someone else. He can either call me back or come into the shop.”

“I’m sure he’ll be over when he can tear himself away from work.”

“Thanks, Vanya.”

When Lily hung up, she realized she had stepped across a threshold from which there might be no return.

The cat sat beneath a hat tree, staring up at nothing, giving Lily a sudden idea for a shop logo. A cat with her fur blowing in the wind, wearing a vintage hat.

She checked the Internet for images, sketched a variation on one, and on a crazy impulse, she bundled up and rushed out in the blustery day to Fairport Graphics, where she ordered a logo image, business cards, and postcards.

Then she removed the
Found Cat
flyers from corkboards and telephone poles, bulletin boards and windows. The cat was going to stay. Who cared if the she ripped a couple of dresses or went psycho in the night? Sometimes life could throw you, as Dr. Cole had said, and sometimes that was a good thing.

Kitty

I wonder what has just happened to Lily? She returns to the shop light on her feet, her cheeks flushed. For the first time since I came inside, I feel a hankering to leave, to be free, to see what she saw, to feel what she felt. But then I remember the long nights in the wind and cold, my belly aching with hunger. Do I want that life again?

Anyway, I can’t leave yet. Sadness lingers in her heart, and the spirit of Lily’s former mate is growing stronger. He compresses and expands, disappears and reappears, as if unsure of the shape he’s meant to take, or what he is meant to become.

When Paige stops in for her dress, he slowly fades into the wall, as if he has run out of energy, but I have a feeling he will be back.

In the altered getup, Paige looks like a mermaid I once saw emerging at low tide to bask in the moonlight. She was also clad in tight, shiny green, with similar pale skin.

Paige turns in front of the mirror, checking her reflection from all angles, lifting her arms, dropping them, spinning in a slow circle.

“Amazing, Lily. How did you do it?”

“I made a few small adjustments.” Lily smiles, and I sense the warmth coursing through her.

“I’m a whole new person.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

Lily floats through the next couple of moon cycles, chattering to me about alterations, the sales she is making, the new window display. The sweet man, Rupert, returns to help her set up new display lights. Turns out, he’s good with electronics and wires. He slips me freeze-dried chicken treats when Lily isn’t looking. She fits him with a new purple suit, and he smiles and hugs her and they both spill water from their eyes.

“Michael thinks I’m insane to wear this color,” Rupert says, modeling the suit. “But he’s not allowed to have an
opinion. He’s not going with me to the funeral. He’s off on another six-day shift, and I’m leaving for Virginia tomorrow.”

“That’s a long time apart. Do you miss him?” Lily asks.

“Like the devil. But the passengers love him. He’s one of the few singing flight attendants who isn’t tone deaf.”

Lily nods, her mind elsewhere. She looks out the window as if searching for someone. Ah, yes, now I know who it is. He arrives rather suddenly the next morning. When he steps inside, her heartbeat taps all over the universe. But on the outside, she remains calm. The doctor is in regular clothes, bringing the cold air and the smell of the salty sea. This time, I know he’s not here for me. He’s here for the jacket on the mannequin, or so he says. When he tries it on, Lily fusses with the sleeves and the collar, while he stands there, looking at her in the mirror.

“I’ll make some alterations and it will fit you perfectly,” she says, fussing some more, not looking into his eyes.

He nods, changes into his regular clothes, shoves his hands into his pockets, hesitates. “I need to get Bish a little…something. I have no idea what she likes these days.”

“You can’t go wrong with jewelry. Here, come and take a look.” She pulls a velvet display case from beneath the checkout counter.

The ghost of her former mate wafts down and wraps
around her as Dr. Cole leans over the jewelry. Lily points to a silver necklace with white beads.

“This is sterling.” She hands the necklace to Dr. Cole. “It’s a choker. Sits above the collarbone. Perfect for Bish.”

I sit on the edge of the counter, my tail swishing, and look from Lily to the doctor and back.

“Whatever you say,” he says. “Looks good to me.”

“I might have a box.” As she bends forward, her necklace slips out from beneath her sweater, the gold ring and vial of ashes dangling in full view.

Dr. Cole takes a step back.

Lily tucks the necklace beneath the pullover, her cheeks a bright shade of pink.

“No need for a box,” Dr. Cole says, standing away from her now.

“It’s no problem.” Lily quickly arranges the silver necklace in a gift box, puts the box in a small paper bag. “Bish is going to love this.”

“I’m sure she will.” He takes the bag, then turns and heads for the exit. I can’t let him leave, not with Lily’s heartbeat going crazy. As he opens the door, I jump down, stagger across the floor, and let out a strangled, unearthly cry before collapsing dramatically on the carpet.

Lily

What could have happened to the cat? Lily’s worst nightmare had just come true. The moment she’d opened her heart to the little creature, the poor old “senior” cat had keeled over and died. Horrible scenarios rushed through Lily’s head—the cat had suffered a stroke, a heart attack, or a rupture of a major artery. Or maybe her tiny body had finally given out. Maybe old cats died this way—they kept going for years and then winked off like a lightbulb.

That’s what you get for loving someone again, and a fragile senior cat, no less.
Lily went a bit numb with fear as she kneeled on
the carpet next to the cat, who lay stretched out on her side, her breathing shallow. “What’s wrong with her?” Lily said, knowing she sounded desperate. “Could this be another hairball, a bigger one stuck in her throat?”

“I don’t think so. Did you see what happened?” Dr. Cole kneeled on the other side of Lily. She heard a cracking sound, maybe from his joints. “She was okay a minute ago.”

“I have no idea. She just collapsed. You saw! You just petted her.”

“But then I turned away.” He put his ear down to the cat’s chest, then he pulled back her upper lip to check her gums. “She’s not cyanotic. See? Her gums are pink. She’s breathing. Her heartbeat sounds all right.”

“But she’s obviously in distress! What’s going on? Do something! You’re the vet.” Lily teetered on the edge of panic, but an inner part of her stood back, observing from a dispassionate distance.

Dr. Cole gave her a curious look, but he did not seem perturbed. “Exactly what happened? Did she fall?”

“She doesn’t fall. She jumped off the table. She always does that. It’s not a long way down. She can jump from much higher up and not hurt herself.”

He pulled a tiny flashlight from his pocket and shone a pin of light in each of the cat’s eyes. She squinted, and
her pupils contracted. “Nothing wrong there. Her responses are normal.”

Lily tried to think back through the past couple of days. “Could it have been the cantaloupe?”

“You gave her cantaloupe?”

Great, she had killed the cat with fruit. “I hope it’s not toxic to cats. She was crying for it, so I figured—”

“A little cantaloupe is okay, but not a lot.”

“I gave her only a spoonful.”

He palpated her belly. “I don’t feel anything unusual in her abdomen, but she should have an X-ray.”

Lily’s hands began to go numb. The last time this had happened was right after Josh’s accident, when the telephone call had come from the trauma center. She’d thought she would never survive the drive to the hospital, yet somehow, she had made it. Now, she was getting into Dr. Cole’s truck, holding the nearly comatose cat wrapped in a blanket in her arms. There hadn’t been time to get the carrier.

Dr. Cole raced through downtown, right through a red light, as rain pelted the windshield. Somehow, even in her panic, the detached part of Lily noticed the interior of his truck. Unlike Josh, Dr. Cole was not a neat freak. The cab was a mess of papers and tissues, a jacket thrown on the seat next to a library book.

At the clinic, they rushed inside, the reception area
quiet and dark. Dr. Cole whisked the cat off, turning on lights as he went, leaving Lily to wait an eternity, trying not to bite her nails.

Fifteen minutes later, he came back. The cat lay in his arms, unmoving. This couldn’t be happening. He was a veterinarian. He was supposed to save little animals in distress. The cat hadn’t been in an accident. She hadn’t shown any sign of illness. The universe was playing a sick, cruel joke. The room began to spin, and Lily sat down, the blood draining from her head, and realized that she was about to faint.

Kitty

The doctor lets me down gently. Of course, I can’t help landing on my feet. But I wobble a little, pretend I’m recovering from a terrible trauma. Shaky and slow, I tiptoe around the waiting room. My tail swishes back and forth, and I sniff every corner.

“So she’s okay?” Lily says in a trembling voice. She’s pale, a little grayish.

“She appears to be fine,” Dr. Cole says. “Do you need some water?”

“No, I’m okay. She’s not sick? She looked…I mean…”

“She’s not sick as far as I can tell.”

I trot over to Lily and purr, rubbing against her legs.

“You crazy cat! I’m going to kill you!” Lily tries to sound angry, but her tone betrays her relief. She scoops me into her arms, nearly collapsing my lungs. “You scared me to death!”

Not to death, exactly. She’s still very much alive, but I may not be for long if she keeps squeezing me so hard. She kisses the top of my head. “It’s a miracle. Thank you, thank you. How did you save her?”

She puts me on the floor again. I give myself a good shake and set about cleaning my fur.

Dr. Cole smiles, and a sliver of light enters the dark room inside him. “She made a remarkable recovery all by herself.”

“Maybe it was the quiet in here?”

Dr. Cole looks around, as if feeling the silence for the first time. “It is pretty quiet. No dogs and cats making noise in the kennels.”

“You have kennels?”

He jabs his thumb toward the back of the clinic. “I can show you if you’re interested.”

“Definitely.”

They look at each other, and a moment later, he scoops me up and tucks me under his arm, and Lily is following us through a swinging door into a back hall. He gives her the complete tour of the pharmacy room, break room, and grooming table, then points toward the surgery suite. Lily peeks through the tiny window in the door. “Must’ve taken you a long time to learn how to use all that equipment.”

“We learn five species. Not just one.”

“Have you ever had an animal die on the operating table?”

“Doesn’t happen often, but we did have one cat react to anesthesia a few years ago. We tried to revive him, but we weren’t successful. This is very rare.”

The moment stays with him, like the other memories and darkness knocking around inside him.

“I’m sorry. Was it awful?”

“I got emotional, yeah, and I’ve been practicing for over twenty years.” He scratches me on the head. “Emotional burnout is a major reason people leave this profession.”

“Are you burned out?”

“In a way. I’m thinking of going part time, giving my colleague the extra hours.”

“What do you do to unwind?”

“I hike, play guitar, read. But my job can also be incredibly satisfying when I’ve helped someone. Just yesterday, a
desperate client brought in her papillion. He hadn’t been eating for two days. An ultrasound revealed a gall bladder problem that would’ve killed him. But we did surgery right away and saved his life.”