One of these days, I’ll tell Hopper who I really am.
Hopper points to the clay head on the table, shoved cattywampus to catch the best light. “I’m working on her eyebrows today.”
I shuffle in, laden with my cat and art things, and Hopper gestures to a series of easels in a variety of sizes. “Set up wherever you want to, use whatever supplies you see. What’s mine is yours.”
Something about that sentiment unexpectedly pricks my eyes, so I nod and refocus on the unfinished multimedia pieceoff to the side. It’s comprised of thousands of pieces of paper, collaged to look like a lone figure at the shoreline, looking at the sunset, not quite finished.
“That your work too?”
Hopper shakes his head. “That’s my buddy Jake’s. He heard I was letting you join me and got jealous, so I invited him over.”
“Oh.” I turn to him, grimacing. “I don’t wanna cause problems with you and your friends…”
He waves me off. “Nah. Jake is a sweetheart, but not what you’d call a people person. He was going to be grumpy, regardless, but now he gets to be grumpy in a place with good lighting.”
I let out a nervous chuckle, and he repeats the offer to utilize whatever supplies I see fit. Not wanting to offend him, I agree.
To start, I chose one of the empty easels, dragging it closer to the middle of the floor. Angela Lansbury meows loudly.
“I wasn’t quite sure what we should do for the litter situation, so I brought a disposable box,” I say, holding it up. “I figured I’d shove it in a corner somewhere.”
“Oh, you won’t need that,” he says, pointing to an alcove in the back wall. “I went ahead and got one of those self-cleaning litter box things and set it up over by the bathroom.”
I walk over and peek into the alcove, where a very fancy litter box is plugged into a low outlet.
“This is better than the one I have at home.”
“If you like it, I’ll send you the link.”
As he’s talking, an enormous lump in the far corner shifts. My eyes widen as the lump begins to take the form of a dog, or maybe a small horse, stretching and yawning. Seconds later, a Harlequin Great Dane pads in from the shadows.
“That is the tallest dog I have ever seen in real life.”
Hopper smiles. “I love large animals.”
Huh. I wonder if that’s where I get it from.
I gesture at Angela Lansbury. “It’s why I like Maine Coons. They’re enormous.”
“Can I meet her?” he asks, setting aside his tools and kneeling in front of her crate.
“Sure. She’ll probably just ignore you.”
I open the cage, and Angela Lansbury bypasses Hopper, slinking into the middle of the space, looking rumpled and entirely annoyed. She lifts her nose in the air, taking several delicate sniffs before tilting her head at Hopper. After regarding him for a moment, she walks up to him, her fluffy coat shining in all the pretty lighting.
“Meow.”
Before I can warn him, Hopper stands and pats his chest. Angela Lansbury bats at the bottom of his leather apron and then anchors into the thick material, making her way up him like he’s the rope climb on an obstacle course.
“Hello, Dame Lansbury,” he says, cradling her as she pushes her face into his neck. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Hopper.”
Seeing them together makes the entire building feel like it’s out of sync with the world around it.
“She usually doesn’t like anyone except me.”
“Animals and me, we get along,” he says, stroking her long fur before turning his smile to me. “She’s probably the most beautiful cat I’ve ever met in my entire life. I love the markings on her face. And the fluffy bits on her ears.”
The Great Dane approaches and nudges my hip.
