The Blessings of the Animals: A Novel - By Katrina Kittle Page 0,32
He whirled his greeting dance.
It’s Bobby. Max wouldn’t bark at Bobby. Relief flooded through me. He had come back.
But when I stepped into the foyer, I saw Mimi. I wanted to run back down the hall, but she saw me. “Oh, Cami, doll, thank God. Open up.”
How long did I think I could avoid her? I was ashamed at how quickly my anger at Bobby fled when I thought he was on the porch. How pathetic.
Mimi hugged me. She knew. Bless Olive. She hadn’t taken long. Mimi smelled as she always did, of cigarettes and garlic, but it was not unpleasant. She stood on tiptoe to kiss my cheeks. “Oh, doll. I had to see you. I need you to tell me where my son of a bitch of a son is staying. The restaurant was already closed. If he won’t answer my calls, I’m going to hunt him down.”
God, I loved this crazy woman.
“Cam, doll, what did he do that was so awful? You’re a strong woman, but the longer he’s gone, the bigger the risk you take. You can’t work on things if he’s not here. Men are weak—”
I started as if I’d touched the electric tape (which I’d done more than once by accident).
“Mimi, Bobby left me. It was his decision to leave, not mine. He’s rented an apartment.”
Mimi’s eyes blazed. “Where is this apartment?” She looked like she might kill him.
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“I know the address.” Gabriella stepped into the room, making us both jump. Mimi hugged her. They swayed together, looking for a moment like they were dancing.
When they broke away, Gabriella picked up a piece of junk mail off our foyer table and scribbled down the address. When I saw it, goose bumps shivered across my back. Only blocks from Animal Kind. I’d pass Bobby’s apartment every day.
“Thank you, bella. Now go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.” Mimi looked at the address. “I’ll go right now.” I could picture Mimi pounding on Bobby’s door, ripping into him. Maybe Mimi would interrupt Bobby with Zayna. I felt more gleeful than I had in days. Mimi turned to me. “I’ll knock some sense into that head of his. Whatever problems you have, they belong here, in your home, not all over town.”
The glee fell away. “Mimi, he’s—he has someone else—”
She clucked. “That’s what men do, doll. You don’t have to forgive him. But he needs to be here. We can’t very well have the birthday party without the guest of honor.”
I didn’t know which was worse, my daughter hearing that her grandmother believed that all men were unfaithful, or that Mimi still thought I was hosting Bobby’s party. “Mimi. No. I am not hosting a party for a man who left me.”
Mimi puffed herself out like a rooster. My heart thumped. I’d seen this woman rant and scream, but she’d always been sweet as can be to me, saving me extra pignoli cookies, not letting me do any little chore when I was pregnant, always patting my cheek and saying, “You’re so good to my boy.” If I was about to go face to face with Mimi Binardi, then bring it on.
But Mimi only looked flustered and, suddenly, very old. She folded up the piece of paper in her hand. “You kids. Nothing but extremes! I’ll talk to him. Your husband will come home.”
I didn’t believe her. But I didn’t correct her.
When Mimi was gone, Gabriella said, “I told you you were kick-ass.”
“You’re the one who gave her the address.”
She grinned. “Was that evil?”
I considered this and admitted, “Yes.”
“He deserved it,” she said, the sudden venom in her voice surprising me. I wasn’t sure what to say. I agreed—hell, yes, he deserved it!—but felt I shouldn’t in front of her.
I realized I still held the wooden spoon I’d used to shove Bobby’s food down the disposal. I pointed it at her. “Not all men cheat.”
“I know.”
“Not all women take it.”
“I know. Why are you holding a spoon?”
I looked down at it. “Because I am kick-ass.” I broke the wooden spoon across my knee.
Gabriella shook her head. “No. Now you’re just weird.”
In spite of the good start, I got no more sleep that night.
Chapter Ten
I BROUGHT THE THREE-LEGGED CAT HOME, PRAYING HE wouldn’t destroy my house before he completed his antibiotics and could go outside again. He fumed, resenting his plastic Elizabethan collar—but he required it since he kept tearing out his stitches (an amputation required a longer incision than a neuter, after