Her word should’ve been enough to ease my worries, but it wasn’t. I would be sure to warn Robin to be on guard.
The doorbell rang and I ran to the front to answer it. Robin and Shiva smiled as I pulled the door open. Then Robin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise—and a touch of admiration, I’d like to think.
“Somebody got lucky,” she murmured.
“Shut up,” I whispered, then quickly smiled at Shiva as they both walked inside.
As Robin passed me she winked, and we both knew that she knew and wanted me to know she knew. Twisted, but that’s a best friend for you.
Shiva stepped into my studio and gazed around the room. “Brooklyn, this is wonderful. A truly professional space. You have come so far since your days as Abraham’s pupil.”
Pleased, I gave her another big smile. I really had worked hard to get where I was now. Nice that someone noticed. “Thank you, Shiva. I’ll give you a quick tour in a minute, if you’d like.”
“Yes, I would like that very much.” She walked around the worktable, trailing her hand along the smooth wood counter as she took in everything. “Abraham was so proud of you.”
“Oh, that’s sweet,” I said, beaming. “I really appreciate hearing that.”
“Mom,” Robin said as she slipped off her coat, “let’s get a margarita and relax.”
“Of course.” Shiva stared at the shelves as she circled the table.
“Mom?”
“What?” She blinked, then smiled. “Yes. Margaritas. Goodness, what are we waiting for?”
“Let me hang up your coats,” I said. “Then we can go to the kitchen.”
“I love this room,” Shiva said as I opened the closet door and hung up their coats. “So much creativity. I can feel your energy in here. What are in those cupboards up there? Oh, is this Rajiv’s Kama Sutra? Oh, my.”
I turned in time to see that she’d lifted the white cloth to peek underneath. Wincing, I said, “I’m sorry it’s in pieces, but that’s the best way to clean and resew it. It’ll be as good as new when I’m finished; I promise.”
She nodded but seemed not to have heard me as she stared at the book.
I’d always tried to avoid having my book-loving clients observe my work or witness their property in this broken condition. It was stressful seeing their favorite book taken apart and strewn out over my table. I liked to compare it to seeing a loved one in surgery, although I supposed that was a slight exaggeration. Still, the point was that, intellectually, you might understand what was happening, but in reality, you just didn’t want to have to see it with your own eyes.
Shiva continued to gape in rapt fascination. She touched the red leather cover tentatively, felt the padding, then started to reach for one of the pages.
“Mom,” Robin said, jerking her head toward my living area, “Margaritaville is this way.”
“All right, dear.” She joined us and laughed gaily. “I don’t believe I’ve had a margarita in at least three or four years. I think my mouth is watering.”
“How did you ever last that long?” I asked.
She laughed again. “I have no idea.”
“Oh, here’s Pookie,” Robin said as she entered the living room. “Hello, my feline friend.”
Pookie wrapped her body around Robin’s legs and purred in happiness. Apparently, I remained the one human being in the world Pookie had no use for at all.
“She likes you a lot,” I said with a sigh.
“That’s because I love her,” Robin crooned, and lifted the cat onto her shoulder. “She took good care of me.”
“Robin, what are you doing?” Shiva said. “You don’t like cats.”
“I do now,” Robin said, her voice muffled by Pookie’s fur in her face.
“My goodness, you never wanted a cat,” Shiva said, looking confused. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”
I couldn’t blame Shiva for her reaction. It was sort of a shock to me, too. Robin had turned into a cat person in her short time living here with me and Derek and Pookie.
While Robin was staying here, Pookie had seemed to recognize that she was in pain. The cat had comforted her, curling up on the couch next to her and sleeping in the guest room with her. I loved the cat for her natural empathy, even if she barely acknowledged to me.
“Do you think you’ll get a cat now?” I asked her as I took the pitcher of margaritas out of the fridge and filled three salt-rimmed glasses.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” she said, grinning at the irony. It used to be that whenever one of us broke up with a boyfriend, we would tease each other about buying a cat to keep us company. Now it seemed at least one of us was seriously considering the idea.
There was a knock at the door. “That should be Suzie and Vinnie. Be right back.”
“Hello, Brooklyn,” Vinnie said when I opened the door. They walked in with armfuls of bags that they dumped on the kitchen bar.
I looked inside the bags. “What’s all this?”