Catsby: A Novel

Chapter 29: Part 2

Cordon and I exchanged a terrified look that said, "YIKES."

Dandelion covered her face and started sobbing.

"I suppose the latest rage is to sit around and do nothing while your wife runs around with some strange cat," Tucker continued. "Is that it? Do family values mean nothing? Oh, how I wish for the good ol' days when wives actually obeyed their husbands. Doesn't anyone read the Bible anymore?" Tucker flung his words around the room with such venom that I reflexively ducked when he looked my way. He was speaking nonsense, like a Fox News anchor with a broken teleprompter.

"You haven't read the Bible," Dandelion said, tears streaming down her face. "You watched the TV mini-series, and said that was more than enough."

Tucker glared at her. "I know I don't throw big parties like your friend here. Is that what it is? Sorry that I don't want to invite every Tom, Dick, and Harry into our home." Tucker turned to me. "No offense, Dick."

I shrugged. I tossed back a glass of straight rum, and poured myself another.

"I'm going to tell you something, OLD SPICE," Catsby said.

Tucker leaned back and crossed his arms. "Oh, this is going to be good." I passed him a drink. He downed it in one gulp. Neither of us was going to be in any condition to bike home.

Catsby cleared his throat. "Dandelion's not in love with you. She's never loved you."

"You're insane!" Tucker screamed. "You think she loves you?"

"She'd never have married you, if I'd had the means to support her when we first met."

"When you first met? You mean this has been going on since before college?"

Catsby nodded. "And another thing—"

Tucker cut him off. "I want to hear it from her. Dandelion? Is this true?"

Dandelion slid down onto the floor, where she curled up into a ball. In between sobs, she said—over and over—"Yes, yes, yes."

Tucker balled his fists up and faced Catsby. "You've been screwing my wife?"

Dandelion looked up. "Whoa. Hold on. Time out."

All eyes were on her.

"We've never had sex," she continued. "That's disgusting. I mean, he's a cat...and I'm a person. I just pet him. Scratch him behind the ears. That sort of thing. For God's sake, he doesn't even have testicles."

I winced and felt my sack tighten. Catsby turned away from everyone, embarrassed at the revelation.

"Well isn't this a turn of events!" Tucker shouted, pleased with himself. The anger had disappeared from his voice. Instead, he sounded downright jovial. "Do you still love me?" Tucker asked his wife.

Dandelion shrugged. "Whatevs."

"Good enough for me," Tucker said.

"I want to speak with her alone," Catsby said, finding his voice again.

"Go for it," Tucker said. "Why don't you two go for a long drive and talk about your precious little feelings. She's not leaving me, you know. Not for some feline hustler."

"Hustler?" Dandelion asked. "I thought you were on the up-and-up."

"Go ahead, Catsby—tell her all about your little pyramid scheme."

"It's not a pyramid scheme," he began. "It's called Amway—"

Dandelion stared at him blankly, as if he'd just told her he'd murdered one of her children. He began telling Dandelion his story, his real story, denying all the allegations about his dealings and trying his best to clear his name. It was obvious to us all that it wasn't working. Not this time. She drew further and further away from him. His words were hitting her ears, but not being processed by her brain. Which, honestly, happened quite a bit with Dandelion.

When it sounded like Catsby had reached the end of his sob story, Tucker excused them. "Why don't you both head out now. Get a headstart on us."

Cordon tossed her keys to Catsby. "Take my ride. You guys can have some privacy."

"Go ahead," Tucker said with a nod of approval. "And on your way back to Brooklyn, maybe you can explain to my wife what a 'furry' is."

"A furry?" Dandelion asked.

"We can talk about it in the car," Catsby said, ushering her out the door. They left without saying goodbye, like Batman. I looked around the room, unsure which of us was Commissioner Gordon and which of us was Robin. The likely answer was none of us. We were all Jokers, Riddlers, and Penguins. Maybe Cordon was Catwoman, though—I could see her filling out a leather catsuit nicely.

"Wait," Cordon said. "Did she really think he was a cat this entire time?"

Tucker just shrugged, as if to say, "That's my wife for ya."

I breathed a sigh of relief. All things considered, it felt like we'd narrowly avoided a tragedy. Catsby's heart had been crushed, of course, but there are plenty of ways to remedy a broken heart. Alcohol. Time. More alcohol. My point is that it wasn't the end of the world. Although we'd ended the day on a bittersweet note, it could have been a lot worse. I'd fully expected someone to be killed!

Little did I know, that's exactly what was about tohappen. If you're looking for a happy ending, put this book down and visit amassage parlor. The shit's about to hit the fan, boys and girls.