31906844db5c02010017a90f3f2ca805

“Okay,” said Brutus. Then the profundity of Dooley’s words settled in and his frown deepened. “I guess… that could work.”

“Of course it could work!” I said. “Humans do it all the time. Males with other males, females with other females. It’s a very common thing.”

“Huh,” said Brutus as he tried to wrap his head around it. “The thing is… how are we going to have babies?”

“You adopt,” I said knowingly. I’d seen a few Discovery Channel documentaries myself, and more than a few National Geographic ones, too.

“Adopt,” said Brutus dubiously. “Why would we adopt when I have a perfectly functioning… you-know-what?”

“If you’re going to turn into a female they’re going to cut off your perfectly functioning you-know-what, Brutus,” I explained.

Brutus’s eyes widened to their maximum dilation. “Wait, what?!”

“What?!” Dooley cried, a few seconds later. His penny usually took a little longer to drop.

“Of course! How can you be a fully functioning female with a fully functioning male you-know-what? That doesn’t make sense.”

Brutus directed a slightly panicky look at me.“Oh, Max. This is all so very, very complicated!”

“That’s why humans visit shrinks to sort through this kind of stuff.” And since I’m not a fully functioning shrink, I thought maybe Brutus should see an official one instead of gabbing to his friends about this most important topic.

“You should see a shrink,” finally said Dooley, who’d come to the same conclusion I had.

“A shrink? But I don’t want to see a shrink!”

“You have to,” I said. “You’re obviously confused about this issue, Brutus, and the sooner you work through it the sooner you’ll be a fully functioning boyfriend—or girlfriend—again.”

“Oh, man,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“At least one of us is,” suddenly a familiar voice rang out in the night. It was Harriet, and she did not look happy.

“We were just telling Brutus he needs to see a shrink,” I said.

“I don’t know who he should see, but he better make it quick, cause I’m losing patience with this ridiculous cat,” said Harriet.

“Do we even know a shrink?” asked Dooley.

I thought hard. None of my acquaintances had studied shrinkage, as far as I knew. Then again, it’s not as if cats actually go to school or even college. I guess we’re all students of the school of life.

“Kingman might know a shrink,” I said. “He’s usually well-informed.”

Kingman is the cat that belongs to the owner of Hampton Cove’s general store. He knows pretty much anyone who’s anyone and a whole bunch of absolute nobodies, too.

“Come on,” I said, jumping down from the swing. “Let’s go see him now.”

“Max!” said Dooley. “You’re back!”

“Hey,” I said, surprised. “I am!” He was right. I was feeling a lot better.

“See,” said Dooley. “All you needed was something to take your mind off your human abandoning you and falling in love with a bunch of other, better and nicer pets than you.”

Ugh. Whatever Dooley was, it definitely was not a shrink.

More like an anti-shrink.

Chapter 7

Dinner was over, and what a glorious dinner it was! Emerald’s chef had gone all-out preparing the small company the most delicious meal imaginable.

Pork Wellington with prosciutto and spinach-mushroom stuffing. Peppery greens with Meyer-lemon dressing. Rutabaga-sweet potato mash with garlic and sage. And for dessert no-bake chocolate-eggnog cr?me br?l?e. Because in Emerald’s view, why limit eggnog to Christmas when you can enjoy it year-round!

The company had retired to the terrace, chatting away and enjoying some of the best wines from Emerald’s obviously extensive wine collection.

The house was located near the ocean, and Abbey had already suggested they go for a midnight swim, but since everyone was still too full after the sumptuous meal, her suggestion had fallen on deaf ears.

Candles had been lit, music drifted from hidden speakers, and a gazebo provided privacy for the guests who needed it. Verna had returned—apparently hunger had vanquished whatever rancor she’d been harboring—and was now quietly chatting away with her husband, clutching a glass of wine in one hand and a giant reefer in the other.

Odelia studied the house, which was lit up and looked like a fairytale castle out of a Disney movie.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” she said. She was feeling mellow.

“Yeah, it’s a nice little hovel,” Chase agreed.

“Hovel? It’s like a Snow White’s castle or something.”

Chase laughed.“So who’s Snow White and who’s the evil stepmother?”

They glanced around. Emerald sat holding court: her director, husband and Alina and Alina’s husband at her feet, hanging on her every word. Kimberlee, oddly enough, wasn’t amongst those fawning fans, even though she’d been officially named Emerald’s successor.

“I’m not sure,” said Odelia. “Emerald seems like a shoo-in for Snow White but somehow I don’t see her as the young and beautiful bride-to-be.”

“Kimberlee, maybe? She’s young and pretty. Has the world at her feet.”

Odelia poked Chase’s nose. She was a little tipsy. “Calling Kimberlee young and pretty, huh?”