The Couples

Chapter 2

TWO

2010“What in the name of sanity has Precious done now?” Rachel screamed at no one in particular. “She hates me! What did I ever do to that cat?”

“I think you’re exaggerating the situation, Mom” Angie said. “Precious doesn’t hate you. She’s just being a cat.”

Rachel Barnes turned away from the trash can with its contents spilled onto the floor, most landing on the carpet. She looked at her tall daughter, wondering where those genes came from. She was short, as was her husband, Joe.

“How many times a week does your Precious overturn my trash? Remember the broken vase? No, correction, two vases, both crystal I might add. And let’s not forget the atomizers. The first incident had the condo reeking of Channel No5 for weeks. The second was that sickly, sweet orange blossom stink lingering for days. I will never like that scent again. Oh, let’s not forget the clawing of the couch,” she said, pointing toward the living room. “Have you looked at that couch lately? Snags and more snags. All over. She hates me.” Rachel folded her arms across her chest. “I rest my case.”

Angie Barnes flung her blonde ponytail over her shoulder and grinned. “I think she does things because she knows it annoys you. She’s not a dumb cat.”

“Please clean it up,” Rachel said.

“Of course. I have time before I pop over to the B and B to welcome the new guests,” Angie said, bending to gather the paper and stuff it back into the trash can. She picked up any tiny fragments still clinging to the carpet with her fingers, then brushing her hands together over the can.

“How many are coming?” Rachel asked as she left the bedroom.

“Four, so all the rooms will be rented for the weekend.” Angie followed her mother to the living room.

“You’ve done such a good job marketing our B and B. We’re booked almost every weekend.”

“And sometimes during the week, too. I’m pleased with the results,” Angie said.

Joe and Rachel had purchased an old Victorian house on Beach Street that overlooked the Halifax River in Daytona Beach, Florida, the previous year. Joe renovated it and Angie used her marketing degree to promote it. The result had been satisfying for everyone. The plan now was for Angie to roll her experience into a good paying career with a marketing company. Finally, at the age of twenty-six, Angie knew what she wanted to do with her life.

“Okay, so I’m off,” Angie said, snatching her purse from the dining room table.

“I wish you wouldn’t leave your purse on the table,” Rachel said.

Angie chose not to respond. She knew some of her little habits were annoying her mother. Some of her mother’s habits were equally annoying to Angie. She was beginning to realize that it was time for her to move to her own space. She had arrived over a year ago with no inclination how long she would stay or what to do with her life. Now she had a goal. And it was becoming clear that it was time to leave.

Angie drove over the bridge to Beach Street, turning left at the light. She parked her car about three blocks down, in front of the sunny yellow Victorian house. She climbed the steps to the wrap around porch, then unlocked the front door. The interior was cheery, decorated in period- style pieces that could have passed for authentic. Two green settees flanked the fireplace with a coffee table in between. Angie walked up the staircase to the second floor. The bathroom her father had remodeled was a stunner. Complete with a clawfoot tub, it had a sink inserted into a dresser with a mirror attached. Lace curtains rested over a pulldown shade. The bathroom was quaint but classy in appearance.

She walked into every bedroom, getting a feel for which one felt like her. Joe and Rachel had discussed the option of Angie eventually moving into one of the bedrooms while renting out the other three. Of course, she would take Precious with her. That had been made clear from the beginning, even before all the destruction had been inflicted. But now the cat really needed to leave because Precious had definitely worn out her welcome at the condo. Besides, there were benefits to moving into this lovely Victorian home. She wouldn’t have to pay rent and she would have her own place, finally being independent. Her first adult living quarters, not counting her dorm rooms or any of the ashrams she had lived in over the last several years, all of which involved communal living. This would be private, except when guests came to stay. What was there to think about? It was a no brainer: she was moving into this lovely Victorian house after these people vacated!

Monday morning, bright and early, Angie and her boyfriend, Brian Forbes, began lugging numerous suitcases upstairs. Her mother had offered some personal items for Angie’s room, which she packed into several boxes. Since the house was fully stocked with everything a short-term renter would require, it wasn’t necessary to offer utensils and dishes. All the appropriate kitchen items were already on the shelves and in drawers, plus a few staples, such as coffee, tea and sweeteners. All Angie had to do was unpack her clothes and personal belongings, and go to the grocery.

“This place is very cool,” Brian said, appreciatively running his hand down the carved door jamb. “It’s very homey, yet it has class oozing from every corner.”

Angie smiled over his assessment as they climbed the staircase to the second floor, noticing how he ran his hand along the banister. “I’m glad you like it. We will be spending time here now, besides your place, of course.”

“Cool. I feel at home already. But I’m glad you didn’t select the bedroom with the creepy dolls on the shelves.” Brian did a mock shiver as he entered her bedroom.

Angie laughed. “No one likes those dolls, except my dad. I have no clue why he took a shine to them.” She unlatched one of the suitcases and began placing clothing items in the bureau.

“You also have your own private bath,” he said, sitting on the edge of the four-poster bed and gesturing toward the bathroom.

“It’s a little smaller than the main bath, but I don’t need a large one,” Angie said as she arranged a pile of clothes from the second suitcase onto individual hangers. “Dad was able to construct the bath in this room because it’s the largest. The other bedrooms can share the fancy bathroom with the beautiful clawfoot tub. I’m fine with a shower.”

“You don’t need a tub. This was the best choice,” he said.

“Also, my bath won’t be cluttered with strangers’ stuff,” she said. “Help me get these into the closet, please.”

Angie transported an arm load of hangered clothes to the closet, individually hanging each item. Brian brought over another arm load for her to hang as she chose. Placing each piece into a section for pants, shirts, skirts or dresses, Angie further divided items into appropriate color sections.

“You sure are organized,” Brian commented.

Angie looked at him and scowled. “Why wouldn’t I be? If I’m in the mood to wear pink slacks, I look in the slack section for the pink slacks, and then the top section for the white top. What’s wrong with that?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he said, obviously backing away from his comment.

“Life is too complicated to have a closet all discombobulated.”

“I agree. Got it.”

“I come in here and feel peaceful. Everything is laid out, orderly,” she said, spreading her arms out to her sides to include all items in the closet. “I can’t stand disorder.”

“Uh huh. I can see that.” Brian gave her a little smile.

“Okay, enough about my closet. I need groceries,” she said, heading for the door.

“Let’s go get you some groceries,” he said, rising from the bed.

“We also have to pick up Precious.”

“Oh, yeah, the cat.” Brian raised and lowered his brows. “I can’t wait.”

“Precious is being difficult,” Rachel said, her hands on her hips.

“I know. I guess it’s been so long since she’s been in her carrier, she doesn’t want to go in,” Angie said, following behind the escaping cat. “Brian, block her way.”

Brian did his best to stop the slippery feline from going into the living room, spreading his arms and grunting.

“You sound like a football player,” Angie said, gaining on the cat.

“I used to play football,” Brian said as Precious ran by him into the other bedroom.

“Oh, don’t let her get…” Angie started to say as the cat made a dive, “under the bed. Drat.”

“Now what?” Rachel asked.

“Well, one of us is going to have to get her out of there,” Angie said.

“I’ll do it,” Brian said, getting on his hands and knees and lifting the bed skirt. “Come here, you little darling.”

Angie got on the floor as well. “Precious, come here to mama,” she said, waving her hand to attract the cat’s attention. “Be the sweet girl you know you want to be. Come to mama.”

Situated in the center under the bed, completely out of reach, the cat wasn’t budging.

The front door slammed as Joe entered the condo.

“Where is everyone?” he called out.

“In here, Joe,” Rachel called. “We’re trying to get Precious out from under the bed so she can go to her new home.”

Joe walked into the bedroom, looking at Brian and Angie on the floor, his wife standing and observing. “Appears she doesn’t want to go.”

“Not yet,” Angie said.

“I know how to get her out,” Joe said, leaving the room.

He quickly retrieved Rufus the dog from where he was snoozing on the balcony. “What’s under the bed, Rufus? Huh? Go get it. Yeah, get the intruder.”

The large golden doodle plunged forward to the edge of the bed, letting out a bark that fit his size. He jumped up and down a few times, finally sticking his head under the bed with a noisy sniff. Then he let Precious have it, delivering another loud bark that must have blown her fur sideways. Precious ran from under the bed. As she streaked by, Brian and Angie grabbed at her fluffy white body.

“Let’s get her in the carrier right now,” Angie said, standing, as did Brian, each holding onto the wiggly feline.

The two quickly walked back to the carrier left in the hallway. Brian placed one hand on the back of the carrier to steady it while Angie pushed Precious through the opening, with the help of Brian, as Precious squirmed in her grasp. Angie then firmly closed the door, securing it with the zipper.

“Oh, man!” Angie said. “I was wondering if we’d ever get her in there.”

“Me, too,” Brian said.

“I guess she didn’t want to go,” Joe said. “Too bad, girlie, you’re going.”