Chapter 13

Weekend At Lee's: Part Two




Henry suggested I wear a jacket or sweatshirt because of the cool, autumnal wind. He waited outside my room while I found my forest green hoodie. Through the partially open door, I heard him talking in a soft voice. Just as I was about to ask him to speak up, I realized Snugglebutt had followed us back from the library. When I opened the door completely, Henry stood there with her in his arms. She purred in contentment and gazed at him in adoration.
“Snugglebutt, you are such a sleaze,” I said as I reached to touch her tiny front paws which pummeled the front of Henry's fleece jacket.
“If she lets you hold her, she must like and trust you. She's an uncanny judge of character.”
By this time, she was on his left shoulder, rubbing her forehead against his.
“She just marked you as hers. Cats have scent glands in their foreheads. When they rub against you like that, they're staking a claim. I gather you're neither allergic, nor annoyed by her attention.”
“No to both, and I know about the scent glands. My aunt loves cats and she told me the same thing when I was a kid. I like animals.
“By the way, has Lee told you about her purchasing a couple of alpacas and donkeys to help keep the grass trimmed around the property? They will be my new downstairs neighbours. Come on, I'll show you the barn; maybe we'll come across Frank and Shy Guy along the way.
“Where should I put Snugglebutt?”
“She'll probably follow us to the back porch area anyway,” I said. “Lee says she can have the run of the ground floor. I will leave this door open so she can get at her food, water, and litter box anytime.”
And so, the highly skilled and experienced combat veteran carried one deliriously happy feline to the back porch door in the kitchen. When he put her down, she looked confused, and when we both darted through the door and closed it before she could get out, she let us know, vocally, how unhappy she was to be left behind.
While Henry zipped up his jacket, I watched through the small window in the porch door as she strutted imperiously back towards my room with her tail fully upright and twitching sharply in annoyance.
He was right; the air was fresh and cool, with just the first hints of icy Arctic fingers sneaking down the back of my hooded sweatshirt. I rolled the hood into a tube to protect my neck from those tiny, chilly probings. We both wore light gloves.
We didn't talk as we approached the barn but I could tell by the calm look on his face that Henry loved this place.
“You look at peace with yourself here.”
“Well, I wasn't like this when Lee interviewed me for the job. Two weeks later, she hired me based on what she had learned about me from my dossier, as she calls it, and that one meeting. I was stressed out and still recovering from injuries when I left JTF2, and the army. After a decade of mostly covert operations, I was exhausted and dealing with PTSD because of some of the things I had seen . . . and done. Through her contacts and assistance, I received some excellent counselling.”
He abruptly stopped walking as a blip of pain zipped across his face. He sighed.
“Besides, there were new, younger, well-trained armed services personnel who wanted to be a part of JTF2, just as I had when I was their age and hoped to make a positive difference. They're trying to do that right now, even as you and I walk in this beautiful and safe place.”
Because I didn't want to inadvertently put my foot in my big mouth, I remained silent the rest of the way to the barn. He led me inside to show the stalls he and Ken had prepared for the arrival of the animals. Even the barn part of the barn had heat and air conditioning. The animals and their human guardians would be comfortable in any season. He would have immediate access to them, if necessary, because he lived in the refurbished loft. I told him how happy I was to have a loft apartment.
He gave me a questioning look, and as he was about to say something, my now superior hearing picked up Frank's voice in the distance calling Shy Guy.
“Did you hear that?”
He shook his head.
“Shy Guy has gotten away from Frank.”
The golden retriever must have seen the open door to the barn and just taken off, because a few moments later, he charged in. He stopped abruptlyly when he saw the two of us, especially Henry. His head and tail dropped, and his eyes peered nervously at the man next to me.
Henry was so cool. He crossed one foot over the other and sat on the barn floor. He slowly extended his left hand towards the dog, looking at him, but not making direct eye contact. Shy Guy looked at me, then Henry, and moved slightly forward. Henry kept his open hand outstretched, and this process was repeated a few more times. By the time Frank entered the barn, Shy Guy was making eye contact with Henry and allowing him to gently rub his head and neck. I remained quietly rooted to the spot.
Frank observed the three of us for a moment and then softly said, “You seem to have a way with abused animals.”