The House of Seven Mabels

that case,“ Jane said with a smile.
    A cat threw up outside.
    “Excuse me for a moment,“ she said as she went into the garage to get a shovel to heave the remains over the back fence.
    Mel was laughing out loud when she returned from this common errand. “I’ve never known a woman so calm about pieces of dead animals.“
    Jane looked surprised. “I do this a couple times a week. Most of the time inside the house. Aren’t you glad you don’t live here? All my kids have learned how to imitate the nasty sounds that precede a cat upchucking and sometimes do it in the middle of the night to make me think I don’t dare get out of bed without turning on a light. Didn’t I tell you about the time I nearly took a header in the bathroom on a mouse’s head? Just like stepping on a marble, albeit a fuzzy one.“
    Mel laughed but then turned serious. “You’re a remarkable woman.“
    “No, I’m an ordinary woman with two cats,“ she said, leaning forward to kiss him. “You must have just grown up without cats.“
    “Without dogs, too,“ he said, being a bit pathetic.
    “Don’t start with me about dogs! Training Willard took longer than potty-training a male child.“
    He chuckled and said, “Want to go for a little drive?“
    “To your apartment?“ Jane asked with a gleam in her eye.
    “We could drop in there. After all, I need to thank you again for dinner.“
    When she got home later, she saw that Shelley’s kitchen light was still on. The phone was already ringing when Jane came in the door.
    “What did Mel tell you?“ Shelley asked.
    “I don’t remember,“ Jane said dreamily.
    “You were at his apartment tonight, weren’t you? But get a grip on yourself and come back to real life. Tell me what he said.“
    Jane took a deep breath, cast the latter part of the evening out of her mind, and recounted what he’d said before the cat episode.

Fifteen

    Early the next morning Jane took the cats and Willard out in the yard and sat contentedly watching them while she had her first cup of coffee and one of the three cigarettes she allowed herself per day. She wished she could quit entirely, and often forgot to smoke one of them. In bad winters, she seldom braved the weather outside to smoke more than one, but three a day was better than twenty.
    When she went back inside, the answering machine had a message from her sister, Marty. She sighed. Marty called her only when she couldn’t remember where in the world their parents were, and it was always for financial help. So she’d call Jane, and after listening to silly pleas that fell on Jane’s deaf ears, Jane would give her the current telephone number for their parents. One time Marty asked if she could use Jane’s calling card account, to which Jane replied that she most certainly could not.
    Why didn’t Marty break down and buy a computer? She’d married or lived off a string of wealthy men. That way she could always reach anyone she wanted by E-mail. Jane and her parents were in touch at least weekly often daily, and it was free, unlike phone calls to foreign countries.
    As usual, Jane didn’t return the call right away. Sometimes she got lucky if she dawdled and whatever problem Marty imagined had already solved itself. And on occasion, Marty herself couldn’t even remember. This evening would be soon enough.
    The phone rang while she was writing down the number on the caller ID. She wondered vaguely where Marty was now. She didn’t recognize the area code.
    She saw that it was Shelley and picked up.
    “Are you back to real life yet? I saw you sitting outside grinning. Nice evening with Mel?“
    “Unfortunately, I am back to the nitty-gritty. Come on over and I’ll feed you some kind of breakfast.“
    Shelley was there in about half a minute. “Isn’t it great when all the kids want for breakfast is an egg sandwich and a bottle of orange juice to eat and drink on their way to school?“ she said. “I shudder at the recollection of having to cook pancakes or bacon at the crack of dawn.“
    “All I have is some sort of healthy granola bars,“ Jane said apologetically. “But they’re not bad. Here you go,“ she said, tossing a couple on the kitchen table and pouring their coffee. “Got a call from my sister while I was outside.“
    “What does she need now?“
    “I haven’t called back to see. Remember the time she wanted me to rush to Seattle because she had to have an ingrown toenail removed and expected the whole family to