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Marge, who’d been hanging up the laundry, looked up.

“Marge, honey,” said Tex. “I want you to meet someone. Dudley, this is Marge, my wife. Marge, this is Dudley Checkers. Dudley is… my son.”

Chapter 11

“He doesn’t look like Tex,” said Brutus.

“It’s the ears,” said Harriet. “Try to picture him without those floppy ears and I think he looks just like Tex.”

“I think he looks like Marge,” said Dooley.

“He can’t look like Marge, Dooley,” I said. “Marge isn’t his mother.”

The four of us were on the porch swing, intently watching the scene as it played out in the backyard. Tex had introduced his new son to his wife, and Marge was so taken aback she’d almost fallen on her tushy.

“I don’t understand,” said Dooley. “If Tex is Dudley’s father, then Marge must be his mother, right?”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “As I understand it Tex had a girlfriend before he met Marge and he and this girlfriend had, um, relations, and that’s where this kid comes from.”

Dooley chewed on that for a long moment. Judging from the thought wrinkle that appeared on his furry brow, it was tough going for a while, but finally he said, “So if he’s Tex’s son but not Marge’s… what does that make him?”

“It makes him Marge’s… stepson, I guess?” said Harriet. “And Odelia’s stepbrother.”

Dooley’s eyes went a little wider. “Odelia has a brother?”

“Yeah, this guy we’re looking at right now,” said Brutus.

“But… he doesn’t look like Odelia at all, so how can he be her brother?”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with an eyeroll.

“What’s going on?” asked Gran, who’d come out of the house munching on a cream cheese bagel and now took a seat next to us on the swing, her short legs dangling.

“Tex just found out he has a son,” I said. “And he told Marge but I don’t think she’s happy about it.”

Gran almost dropped her bagel.“Tex? A son? What the hell are you talking about?”

“This kid just introduced himself and said he’s Tex’s son,” said Harriet with a shrug. “That’s all I know.”

“That’s all any of us know,” I said, with just a touch of chagrin. Usually we’re the best-informed cats in Hampton Cove and now it appeared as if there was a very big secret that we hadn’t been clued into, and it had hit very close to home, too.

“I don’t believe this,” said Gran, gawking at this Dudley character, who now stood beaming at Marge. “Tex has a son.” She narrowed her eyes at the kid. “How old is he?”

“Um… probably in his late twenties?” I guessed.

“Huh,” said Gran, and started munching her bagel again, though judging from the mechanical movements of her jaw she was thinking hard—almost as hard as Dooley.

“I don’t know if I like this, Max,” Dooley confessed. “A brother for Odelia. What does it mean?”

“What do you mean what does it mean? It means what it means,” I said, becoming philosophical for a change.

“I mean is he going to move in with us? Or move in with Marge and Tex?”

“I doubt that very much,” I said. “He probably has a place of his own. So why would he move in with us?”

“Great news, you guys!” Tex suddenly announced, including us in the conversation. “Dudley is moving in with us!”

“Oh, for God’s sakes,” said Gran, not sounding all that excited at the prospect of welcoming this new grandson of hers into the family.

“Tex!” said Marge suddenly. “Can I have a word? In private?” she added pointedly.

“Oh, sure. Make yourself at home, Dudley.Mi casa es su casa and all that, right?”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Dudley. He looked as fresh-faced and excited to meet his dad as any son who’s just met his long-lost dad for the first time.

Marge and Tex charged into the house and Marge slammed the kitchen door for good measure.

“Uh-oh,” said Gran. “Looks like trouble in the family.”

“Do you think Marge is unhappy about having a son?” asked Dooley.

“You can bet she is,” said Gran, then muttered, “I’m going to have to shut up now, you guys. He’s coming over to talk to me.” And then she plastered the fakest smile on her face I’d ever seen outside of a soap opera finale, and said, “So nice to meet you… Dudley, is it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Dudley, and held out a hand, which Gran shook after a moment’s hesitation. And since her hand was smeared with cream cheese, Dudley’s hand was now also smeared with cream cheese, which he didn’t seem all that happy about.

“See, Max?” said Dooley. “That’s how easy contamination can happen. And before you know it you’re eating or drinking someone else’s contaminants.”

“Has Gran talked to you yet?” I asked.

“No, why?” he said. Then, alarmed, added, “She’s not sick or dying, is she?”

“Gran is fine. It’s you that’s not fine. Harping on this pee incident the whole time.”

“But it’s important, Max!”

“Oh, will you please give it a rest already,” said Harriet. “What’s done is done, Dooley, so drop the subject, will you?”

“But—”

“It’s happened to me many, many times, Dooley,” said Brutus, placing a brotherly paw on my friend’s shoulder. “And do you see me fretting? Do you see me making a big fuss?”

“It happened to you many times?” said Harriet with a laugh. “What do you mean?”