"Oh."
To be fair, I had put up the notice board that Aunt Violet had used for decades. It gave the opening hours—the morning and the evening—and how to reach her in emergencies.
Although now that I thought about it, what kind of emergency did you have to have to contact a woman who ran a lending library and had lately added a couple of tables with the new releases?
Maybe I should have figured out sooner that there was more to my aunt than met the eye—purple hair and everything.
"I think for now, the afternoon opening hours should do," he said. "You could hire someone, but we do not want strangers poking around in our affairs."
"Definitely not," I agreed. I searched for some sticky tape to cover the morning hours before I returned the board to the window. I did the same with the sign on the front door.
"May I now go?" I asked the cat.
"I wonder if I should come along," he said.
"That would be nice, but how would we explain it?"
"My daily constitutional. People are used to seeing me walk by."
"Fine by me." I held up his harness. "Are you ready to be taken out for walkies?"
He gave me a withering glare.
A few people waved at Cosmo and stared at me as I led him on his leash around the green.
I’d stashed the Ziploc bags in my backpack, to take to Reina. But first, we were going to snoop around a little. Because even if peoplestopped talking—or rather, gossiping—about my aunt or me when they spotted me, they wouldn't be as careful with Cosmo. After all, he was just a cat.
I felt him stare at me. Good grief, you're not a mind reader, are you? I asked silently.
No answer.
Good.
As much as I appreciated his support during what was turning out to be the craziest period of my life, I did not want him to enter my private thoughts. A woman had to have a space of her own, even if it was only inside her own head.
I plunked down on a bench and pretended to be completely oblivious to my surroundings while I scrolled through my phone.
Meanwhile, Cosmo explored as much as the 15 foot leash allowed him to.
I relied on his returning to me when he decided he’d picked up enough gossip or enjoyed his freedom to his heart's content.
It didn't take long.
He ignored a squirrel, half-heartedly chased a puppy—but it was obvious they were only playing—and allowed a toddler to pet him. Several people called him by his name as they said hi to him. He really must have been a common sight in town.
With me, they were more reserved. I got a few “Nice to see you”, but nobody really stopped for a long chat. I blinked back tears. People should have been queuing up to tell me how sorry they were about Aunt Violet and how much they’d missed her. She’d spent so many years helping them, supporting them, plying them with magic cookies.
And all of a sudden, none of it mattered anymore.
Or maybe they just didn’t know how to deal with me—the woman with the crazy blue hair. Or they wanted to give me space to grieve. It was hard for me not to read too much into everything.
Jimmy ambled up to me, leaning heavily on his walking stick. “May I?”
"Be my guest."
He lowered himself onto the spot next to me.
"Lovely day, isn't it? Your little kitty is enjoying himself. Nice to see that he's not moping too much."
