***This is one I wrote almost 30 years ago, if you can believe it! Thought I'd share it with
you. It's kind of a Romantic Comedy piece.***

Thanks to the Cats


Mrs. Fabershaw was in a great tither. She closed her door purposefully, took half a step,
looked back with knitted brow and hesitated. She did his three or four times, giving the
impression of teetering back and forth. 

Jessica was frightfully ill, and had sent for her. There was nothing she could do but fly
half way across the country to answer the call. She couldn’t dally here, she didn’t even
know if she’d be on time if she left right now. 

But then she looked back at the closed door and her heart learched. There was also
someone sick in there. Oh, she knew Amy would like her to think she could get along
fine while she was gone, but how could she just go flying off, thinking of poor Amy
curled up like a poor little sick kitten. Of course, Sam and Freda were there to keep her
company but they were old cats and preferred to spend their time curled up on the
window sill all alone. Narcissus wasn’t reliable at all. He spent most of his time prowling
in the back yard and, well, Newcomb was so fat and lazy that he was almost useless. 

She wobbled again, then became aware of someone watching her across the neat little
fence that separated her yard from the place next door. 

“Is there anything wrong Mrs. Fabershaw?” asked the young gentleman leaning on the
fence. Mrs. Fabershaw had always thought Quint was quite a handsome and a reasonable
neighbour into the bargain. He never seemed to mind at all when Narcissus strayed into
his backyard. She heaved a great sigh of relief as the next thought struck her. 

“My heavens, yes!” Jessica is very ill. I must fly off at once to see her, but ... well, Amy
is a touch sick too, and I do worry about leaving her alone. Would you mind terribly
looking in on her from time to time? And while you’re at it, could you put down some
food for all the cats when they need it? Oh that’s so kind of you! I feel very much better
about it now. I haven’t the slightest idea when I’ll be back.” 

Quint watched Mrs. Fabershaw’s gray head bobbing along as she hurried down the street
towards the bus stop. He had lived next door to her for almost a year, and he had become
quite accustomed to her habit of carrying on both sides of a conversation all by herself.
He had chosen this house because of the quiet neighbourhood. Even though on the edge
of the city, it had the air of a little village to it, exactly what he needed for his books. He
had become acquainted with Mrs. Fabershaw’s cats not long after moving in. Narcissus
had paid him a visit within a week, and after the first surprise of it all, and after being
formally introduced of course, they became quite good friends. He had, upon returning
Narcissus that first time, then met Sam, an old gray tabby; and Freda, an equally old
calico. They had eyed him quizzically, then gave their approving squint and returned to
their favourite windowsill without paying him any further attention. Newcomb, a fat
looking ginger Manx, had arrived about seven months ago from the street. Hence his
name “New comer”. He had taken quickly to life with Mrs. Fabershaw, and now seldom
ventured out of the house. Amy he supposed, was another stray that Mrs. Fabershaw was
nursing back to health. He would look in on her later that afternoon. 

He went on with his work, and didn’t go next door till nearly six o’clock, when Narcissus
wandered under the fence. He was an orange striped cat with white nose, paws and bib.
As soon as Quint heard his familiar meow he remembered his promise to his elderly
neighbour, and headed off through the back gate with Narcissus running after his feet.
When they reached the kitchen Quint decided to put the cat food down before he went to
find the poor stray Amy. Narcissus watched him closely out of his sharp eyes, to make
sure everything was in order; Sam and Freda appeared and rested by their dishes with
eyes closed, and eventually Newcomb wandered in and took his place as well. 

With that taken care of, Quint went in search of Amy. He searched all the rooms but
could find no sign of a fifth cat. He opened closets and cupboards, in case she had been
accidentally shut in one; under chairs and couches, and Mrs. Fabershaw’s bed. He found
nothing but a tattered old cat-nip mouse and a rolled up piece of foil which Narcissus,
who by this time was finished eating and had come to inquire why Quint was acting so
strangely, swatted indignantly out of his fingers and grabbed possessively between his
paws. He batted at it for a few seconds, but when it rolled out of reach he turned away
and sniffed along the bottom of the door to the spare room. 

Quint had not yet opened that door, for it didn’t really look as if it had been accidentally
closed. But, at the cat’s insistence, he now opened the door, and Narcissus scampered
quickly across the room and jumped up onto the bed where the face of a sleeping young
woman protruded from under the covers. 

As Quint stood startled in the doorway, Narcissus nudged at the girl’s chin in an attempt
to gain her attention. She wrinkled her nose, but did not open her eyes. Then a hand
poked out from under the blankets and pushed at the stubborn cat. She murmured quietly
and tried to move her face away from the cat, then all movement stopped for an instant.
When her eyes flew open her expression was as startled as Quint’s. 

“Who are YOU?” She demanded in a small voice. She knew perfectly well that Mrs.
Fabershaw had closed the bedroom door, and Narcissus had not, to her knowledge,
mastered the ability to open doors. When her weak eyes opened to see who had opened it,
they had fallen upon the stranger standing in her bedroom door. 

“Ah.... I.... ahh...” Quint cleared his throat and began again. “Mrs. Fabershaw asked me to
look in on..... are you Amy?” She nodded against the pillow and he muttered softly under
his breath. “No wonder you weren’t in the cupboard.” 

“The name’s Quintin Manning. I live next door. rs. Fabershaw asked me to look in on
you and see that you were alright. Are you hungry?” Amy shook her head. “When was the
last time you ate?” he went on. 

“Mrs. F. brought me some toast before she left.” 

“That’s all?” He stared at her inquiringly. “And before that?” 

“Breakfast. I had some cocoa.” 

“You’d better have something to eat then.” 

She started to protest but he wouldn’t listen, and went back out to the kitchen. Narcissus
followed after him to keep an eye on things. They found some soup and heated it for her
with Narcissus watching the procedure carefully, for he had seen Mrs. Fabershaw make
this soup before and he intended to see to it that it was done properly. When Quint
returned with the soup in a mug, the cat perched himself on the foot of the bed. 

Reluctantly Amy sat up, wrapping the blankets around herself, and sipped at the soup.
Quint sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room. A pair of fuzzy slippers
poked out from under the bed, a box of tissues sat on the dresser beside a thermometer
case and an empty juice glass. 

“How long have you been sick?” he asked. 

Amy shrugged and winced because her head hurt. “Two days I guess, maybe two and a
half.” 

“Fever?” 

“I’m burning up.” She leaned back against the head of the bed, hugging the blankets
around her chin. She was surprised when he reached over and rested his hand against her
forehead and nodded. Absently he brushed the dark hair from her forehead, then pulled
his hand away and cleared his throat. 

“You weren’t exactly what I was expecting at all.” He said. 

“Oh? What were you expecting?” 

“A cat.” 

“A cat!” 

Narcissus perked his ears in case anything nasty was going to be said about him and his
kind, but when it seemed not, he settled down once again. 

“Mrs. Fabershaw just referred to you as Amy. I assumed you were another stray she was
nursing. I hadn’t seen you around, and ... well... you know Mrs. Fabershaw and her cats.” 

Despite herself, Amy had to laugh, then groaned and held her head. Quint went in search
of painkillers and juice. Narcissus peered into his hand at the pills before backing away
and allowing him to feed them to Amy. 

“Some how I’d rather he was out prowling my back yard, than in here keeping me under
such close scrutiny.” He said. 

“You should feel honoured.” She suggested. 

“I don’t. I feel watched.” Then he grinned slightly. “Narcissus hasn’t mentioned you in
his visits. When did you arrive?” 

She smiled. “You know, in a way you were right, I am one of her strays. Actually I’m the
niece of a friend of hers. I was boarding with Aunt Lila, but she got married again and
they moved away, so Mrs. Fabershaw took me in, about a month ago.” 

Quint decided it was probably time to get his own supper, and got up to leave. Amy
assured him there was no need for him to bother with her again. 

“I’m really not all that sick you know, I can get along by myself.” 

“Ah, but Mrs. Fabershaw did ask me specifically to look in on you.” He insisted as he
left, closing her door gently behind him. 

That night as he sat at his desk, he thought about the girl next door. He remembered her
tousled hair, and her face pale from sickness and yet flushed with fever. Despite himself,
this girl had made quite an impression on him. Silently he was glad she was ill, because it
gave him an excuse to visit her and find out why. 

The next morning when he arrived, Amy’s door was still closed, but inside things were
different. for starters, Narcissus, who had followed him out the night before, was curled
up neatly on the foot of the bed. When he pulled the drapes open, he discovered Freda
and Sam on opposite ends of the window ledge, and Newcomb had lumped himself lazily
in the chair next to the window. He went back over to the bed just as Amy was opening
her eyes. 

“You’ve been up.” He scolded. 

She blinked the sun from her eyes. “How do you know?” She asked weakly. He turned to
look at the cats, then back at Amy, who was suddenly trying not to laugh. 

“Oh heavens, I didn’t know they all trooped in here. I was up early this morning.” 

“Would you like some breakfast?” 

“Well......” 

“I’ll get you some anyway.” He found, however, that he had to contend with the cats first.
Where breakfast was concerned they all agreed they should get it first, and Narcissus was
bound to give him no peace until there was food in their dishes. By the time Amy’s
breakfast was ready, she was shuffling into the kitchen, wearing the fuzzy slippers and a
long housecoat, with a blanket also wrapped around her. The sight of her made him
momentarily speechless. 

“You shouldn’t be up.” He said, when his voice finally returned. 

“I don’t want to lie in bed all the time.” she pouted. 

“How do you feel?” 

She put a hand to her head. “Terrible!” 

He rushed to her side and helped her to the chair, where he had set down her plate. She
looked down at the food, then up at him. 

“I don’t know if I can eat it.” She said, and Narcissus meowed from where he say beside
them. 

“Go away. “Quint said. “You’re not getting it.” 

Despite her doubts, Amy found that she was very hungry and finished all her food. Then
she decided she’d rather spend a little more time in bed afterall, but when she stood up
she wobbled dizzily, and Quint went to her side once again. He guided her only a few
steps before wisking her up into his arms and carrying her back to her bed. 

“Now stay put.” He said, as he pulled the covers up to her chin, smoothing the wrinkles
out of them. “I’ll be back later.” 

“Don’t you work?” she asked. 

He smiled. “I work at home.” 

That day, however, he did not work at home. He did not work anywhere. He sat at his
desk, pen in hand, and did nothing all morning, and nothing all afternoon, and nothing all
evening. His mind was definitely not on his work. 

Quintin Manning was a writer. He wrote under the name W.T.Boyd, and W.T. Boyd was
a very successful author. Never before had he has such an unproductive day. There was
something about that girl that was simply disarming and for the life of him he could not
think what it was. unfortunately he had a deadline to meet, and had to get something
written soon. 

It was Narcissus who gave him the idea. He opened the door the next morning and in
walked the cat. he walked right in and sat down right on top of Quint’s writing desk.
Now, Quint called him, but he didn’t budge. He tried to pick him up but the cat climbed
away and sat right down again on top of yesterday’s empty page. They stared at each
other for a long time before Quint finally got the idea. 

Narcissus watched as Quint gathered up his writing material. When he reached for the
empty page, the cat got up obligingly and walked over to the door, where he waited, until
they both headed to the house next door. 

“Who says cat’s can’t communicate.” Amy laughed when Quint told her the cat’s
suggestion. Quint made her some breakfast, then spread his things out on the dinging
room table and began to write. He was startled when Any walked into the room and stood
up immediately. 

“What are you doing up?” he asked, eyeing her closely. 

“It’s alright, I’m feeling a bit stronger than I was yesterday. I don’t think I will fall over. 
I brought you some coffee.” 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” 

She smiled at his concern and nodded. “Quite sure. Have you been able to get anything
done?” 

He beamed up at her. “Quite a lot actually. I just hope I can finish this by the end of the 
week, my publisher wants a draft copy by then.” 

Amy wrinkled her nose. “Do you think you can do it?” 

“Yes, I think so.” He looked at her with a strange look in his eyes that made her wonder
what he was thinking, then looked at his work. “.... maybe.” 

Amy spent the rest of the day curled up in a chair in the living room, under a blanket.
When he protested, she told him she’d never get better if she stayed in bed any longer. He
was secretly glad. The truth was, it would remind him she was there, and that actually
helped him work better. Every night he left his papers on the table, for Amy had assured
him that Narcissus would guard them carefully. Every morning, however, it was
Newcomb who was laying squarely on top of them. After nearly a week of this, however,
it didn’t look as if he would be finished in time afterall. 

Amy gradually improved, and by Sunday she felt well enough to get out of her robe and
blanket and put on some real clothes. When Quint arrived that morning she had the
coffee ready for him and ushered him straight into the dining room. After quite a bit of
persuasion, Newcomb climbed down off the table and sauntered off to see what he could
find for breakfast. Of course, there was none, and Narcissus was quick to reprimand Amy
about this oversight. She left Quint alone and didn’t return until she brought him some
lunch, urging him not to stop to chat with her. 

She was right, of course. His publisher had already given him an extension and if he
didn’t meet this deadline he’d probably get a lecture. Not that his work wouldn’t’ be
accepted anyway, W.T. Boyd was always accepted, even late. 

The book progressed, but never seemed close to being finished. He ate with one hand and
wrote with the other, pausing only momentarily when Amy came to collect the dishes. He
had brushed her hair, and there was colour back in her face gain, and this lifted his
spirits. But when she pointed an accusing finger at him, while trying to hide her smile, he
went back to his work. The next time he looked up it was to find Narcissus perched on
the other end of the table watching him closely. He didn’t stop for supper either. Amy
brought him soup in a cup, which Narcissus had supervised of course, and he sipped
while he worked, and slowly the room grew dimmer. He sat straight and stretched when
she turned the light on, looking at her with wide eyes, pleading for a break. 

“How’s it going?” She asked, as she sat down beside him. He yawned and rested his arm
along the back of her chair. Somehow it felt like a perfectly natural place to put it, as if it
belonged there. 

“Its coming. I will finish it eventually.” 

She smiled at him and poked at his nose with her finger. “Not if you aren’t writing.”
Hesmiled back and she drew her hand away quickly with a blush. 

“If I can keep my eyes open, I believe I might finish it tonight.” He assured her. 

“I’ll keep the coffee hot.” She promised, as she left him alone once more. 

Later, when she brought him a fresh coffee, he didn’t look up. She set it on the table
beside him, lifted his hand, and curled his fingers around the handle. He drank without
looking at her, and she retreated to the living room. After that, she refilled his cup twice
more. 

It was late when Narcissus nudged at Amy’s chin. She blinked in the darkness and looked
towards the other room. All was quiet. The cat jumped down and ran to the doorway,
turning to wait for her. When she reached him, she had to smile to herself. Quint had his
head on his arms and was fast asleep. She stood watching him for a moment, then walked
quietly to his side. His pen lay on the table next to his hand, and the last page on the pile
next to him was half written, followed by a triumphantly written “THE END”. 

“Quint.” She whispered, touching his shoulder gently. She hated to wake him, but he
couldn’t possibly sleep there all night. Finally he sat up and mumbled, but didn’t really
open his eyes. “C’mon, you will sleep better on the couch.” She said softly, and he slowly
got up out of his chair. Amy put her arm around him to guide him. She didn’t notice his
smile as he draped his own arm around her shoulders and allowed her to help him along.
When she settled him onto the couch he snuggled his face into the cushion while she took
off his shoes and covered him with a blanket, then she stood silently looking down at
him. He had gone right back to sleep, he must have been so tired, she thought. After
hesitating for a moment, she bent over and left a gentle kiss on his temple before leaving
the room and shutting off the lights. Quint smiled from ear to ear, then settled himself
further into the cushion and went back to sleep. 

In the morning Amy had to get back to work, her illness completely cured. Quint
gathered up his papers and went back to his own house next door. As they both headed
out later, they stepped out their respective back doors at exactly the same time, while
Narcissus amused himself trying to walk along the fence in between. Quint was dressed
up. Amy had never seen him dressed up, and she thought she was staring and tried to
look away. He, on the other hand, had sunglasses on so she couldn’t tell what he was
doing. She was dressed up too, and Quint knew he was staring. 

They stood for what seemed like eternity, until Narcissus decided this had gone on long
enough and returned to his house, bringing Amy to her senses. She turned to lock the
door behind him and when she turned back Quint was getting into his car. 

He scowled at himself as he backed the care out of his driveway. He had wanted to talk
to her, to say goodbye, good morning..... something, anything, but he hadn’t had a
chance. He had wanted to give her a lift, but they were headed in opposite directions. His
frown deepened as he drove away from his house. He would be away for a while. 

Eventually the papers reported that W.T. Boyd’s latest book had gone to print, rumored
to be his best yet, and worth the wait. Amy sighed and glanced out the back window of
the house. She didn’t want to keep looking out there, but every time she went looking for
Narcissus, there he was on Quint’s back doorstep, and he had no intention of moving. 

Quint returned home as soon as he could. He knew he’d have to go back before the book
went to distribution, but for now, urgent business awaited him. It was evening when he
pulled his car into the drive, and the first thing he saw was Narcissus on his doorstep. The
cat stood up lazily and walked over to meet him. He rubbed his head along the man’s leg,
stepped over his shoes a few times purring loudly, then walked away towards his own
back door where he sat and meowed loudly. Quint picked up his mail and went in to
change. 

There was a letter from Mrs. Fabershaw thanking him for his help and reporting on her
sister’s health. She would be away the rest of the month at least. He folded the pages and
set them down, heading for the door. When he stepped outside to go next door, Narcissus
was no where to be seen. 

Amy set a cup of coffee down on the table in front of him. “I hear it’s supposed to be
your best work.” She said. “Must be quite a book, considering Boyd is one of the most
renowned authors of the day.” 

He laughed. “And you’ve seen how one of the most renowned authors works, first hand.
Actually, I’m usually finished in better time, but something threw me off balance this
time.” He was looking straight at her and she began to feel a little uncomfortable.
Nervously she collected the empty coffee cups and took them to the sink, while he
continued to smile at her. 

“But I think,” He went on. “that I know what to do to get my balance back.” She didn’t
turn around, and he went over and put his arms around her, pulling her back against his
chest. 

Later, much later, when he made her promise not to read his book until he gave her a
copy, she pouted and reluctantly agreed. In the days that followed however, she wished
she could reach out and take it from a bookstore shelf without feeling guilty. When the
critics read it, they raved about it, and still he shook his head when she eyed the book on
the shelves as they walked together past the bookstore. Even Mrs. Fabershaw, after she
returned home, would gently nudge her on her way past the store as they shopped for
Amy’s wedding. 

On her wedding day Amy looked beautiful. Despite being held in the small local church,
many reporters were there. As they walked past the flashing lights of the cameras she
could hear them saying “So this is Amy.” and “So I guess this explains it?”. Back home,
Quint had an extra wedding picture taken with Narcissus sitting between them, then they
headed off on their honeymoon. 

As they drove along a quiet stretch of highway, Quint pulled the car off the road and
reached into the glove compartment. “For you Mrs. Manning.” He said lovingly. Amy
looked puzzled, but whenshe opened the parcel she found she was staring down at a copy
of his book. As she opened the cover, she found the inscription “To Amy, without whom
I would never have finished this on time.” 

“And I should thank Narcissus too.” He said. “Remind me to do that when we get back
home. Because, without him, I would never have found you, my sweet and beautiful
wife.” He drew her near and kissed her. “And then I would have missed all this!”