Six-Toed Cats

Harry didn’t plan to spend Valentine’s Day looking at balloons and cards.

He had plans. A special luncheon. A fancy lunch with Katie. There he planned to give her a special card he had ordered. A six-toed cat embossed on cover. Custom made. Special order.

Memory.

Three years earlier. Key West. Hemingway house.

Six toed cats abounded.

Soft paws on old wood.

He bought a silver necklace at the gift shop depicting a six-toed cat. He intended to give it to her later.

One cat crossed the porch rail. It stopped in front of Katie like it had been sent.

She knelt.

Didn’t call to it.

Didn’t reach.

Just waited.

The cat studied her. Lifted its paw.

Set it gently on her knee.

Katie looked up and smiled.

The cat walked away. Harry stepped behind her. Declared his feelings as he placed it around her neck.

Today. Big plan. Big question. Excited tension filled the air.

****

Eight-thirty A.M. They were at the kitchen table. Coffee for Harry. Tea for Katie.

A faint knock. Hesitant.

Mrs. Alvarez.

Next door. Quiet. Kind.

Before Katie moved in, Mr. and Mrs. Alvarez, Jorge and Kathyrn, took care of Harry’s cat when needed. Collected mail. Quiet. Kind.

Mrs. Alvarez. Standing. Shaking. A folded note.Eyes. Panicked. Brimming.

“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day.”

Slow tears. Inching down her wrinkled face.

“He always brings me something. Even when we had no money. Even when he worked double shifts. And when I would think he was too busy working; thinking he wouldn’t have the time to get me anything. He never forgot. Now I can’t drive anymore, The Senior Center said they can’t send the van. I don’t want him to think I forgot him.”

She didn’t ask. Her eyes did.

Harry’s eyes shifted toward Katie.

Katie’s right eyebrow. Raised. Slight head nod.

“Okay. Lunch can wait!”

“I can help.”

****

He stood in the card aisle of the CVS at ten in the morning, He felt a little foolish, holding a ballon with a pink foil heart that read You Make My World Brighter, and turned.

Mrs. Alvarez stood three feet away shaking her head.

She gripped the handle of her cart like it might roll off without her.

“I only need one,” she said again. “Just one thing. Not too big. Not too sad.”

Harry nodded. “We can do one thing.”

Her husband was in the hospital in Live Oak. Stroke. Alive. Confused. Agitated. Angry.

Harry understood.

It wasn’t the gift.

It was about being remembered.

Harry placed the balloon back. “This is too big.”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “Too big.”

He set it back. Reached for a small bundle of red and white carnations. Simple. Honest.

Mrs. Alvarez touched one petal.

“He used to bring me carnations when we were young,” she said wistfully. “He always said roses tried too hard.”

Harry smiled. “Then these are right.”

They added a small box of chocolates and a card. Plain. No glitter. No cartoons. Just words.

I am still yours. I always have been.

They ended up with maybe more than one thing.

They checked out quietly.

In the parking lot, Mrs. Alvarez handed him the folded note.

“Would you… would you write this inside for me?” she asked.

Her hand shook. Palsy?

Harry read the note. Shaky cursive writing.

Rafael.

You hate hospitals.

You hate waiting.

I’m still here.

I’m not done with you yet.

Harry understood. She could have written it herself, but she wanted it neat. He printed the words inside the card carefully.

He printed. He knew his cursive was atrocious.

The drive to the hospital was quiet.

The early afternoon sun dipped slowly.

Room 312.

Rafael. Thinner. Left arm. Left hand. Still. Nonmoving. Eyes. Sharp. Darting. Tracking.

Mrs. Alvarez walked in a couple of steps and froze.

Harry stayed near the door.

Rafael’s gaze found his wife.

Mouth working. “La...te.”

She crossed the room in three steps. Grabbed his right hand.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know.”

Harry handed her the flowers and stepped back.

She set them on the rolling table and opened the card with both hands.

She read. Aloud. Smoothly. Her shaky voice lost.

Rafael’s face. Softened.

When she finished, she leaned down and kissed his cheek.

His jaw tightened.

Eyes. Winkled. Tight.

Not crying.

Fighting the tears.

He drew a breath, working his mouth first.

“You din’ forget.”

“No,” she answered. “I didn’t.”

“He helped.”

Rafael’s eyes darted toward Harry.

Recognition!

“Har…ry?”

Harry nodded.

Rafael swallowed and nodded.

“Thank…you.” Slow. Measured.

Harry kept it simple. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He turned and left for the cafeteria.

At the corner, he paused.

Didn’t move.

Voices drifted through the half-closed door. Not words. Murmurs.

Low.

Uneven.

Mrs. Alvarez’s voice steady now. Soothing.

Anchoring.

Rafael’s voice. Still rough.

Breaking, Then and finding its way back together.

Not sentences.

Fragments.

But they matched.

He knew better than to listen longer.

Some things were not meant to be witnessed.

Only protected.

He waited until the silence settled again before walking toward the coffee machine.

****

More coffee.

Give them some time.

A nurse touched his arm.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.

“Yes, I did.”

It was worth it.

Seeing the way which they looked at each other.

Later he would swear to Katie when they looked at each other, they seemed to look twenty years younger.

****

Later, back in the parking lot, Mrs. Alvarez stood by the Mustang.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said.

Harry opened the driver’s door.

“You already did.”

More than you know!

They were both silent on the way back to the house.

****

Katie had texted earlier.

Lunch reservation canceled. Dinner at Julio’s. Seven. Don’t be late.

He wasn’t.

Dinner. Dessert. Card. She didn’t just smile. Beamed!

Signing the check. Movement detected. He glanced up. Her hand. Touching the necklace. Looking at him.

The look in her eye…precious.

He returned her gaze and hoped that in the ensuing years, he and Katie would continue to share moments like this.

Seeing the Alvarez's together that afternoon gave him faith that they would.

The End