“What are you watching?” I asked as I jumped up on the couch to join them.
“Shush,” said Harriet. “This is it,” she said. “The woman is a marvel. Just what I needed to know.”
“Who is a marvel?” asked Dooley.
“Gabi, of course,” said Harriet, as if Dooley and I were mind readers. “I asked her a question that’s been bothering me for weeks, and she just nailed it. Nailed it!”
I directed a questioning look at Brutus, who merely shrugged, either indicating he had no idea who this mysterious Gabi was either, or he didn’t share his girlfriend’s excitement about the woman’s marvelous and obviously varied qualities.
“Who’s Gabi?” asked Dooley.
“Only the most amazing human being that ever lived,” Harriet gushed as she tapped the tablet with her paw, an adoring expression on her furry face.
“Oh, you mean Odelia,” said Dooley. “I didn’t know she’d changed her name.”
“Not Odelia, dummy,” said Harriet with a laugh. “Though she’s pretty amazing, too.”
I was mystified, and so, I could tell, was Dooley, but before my friend could ask another question, Harriet finally decided to tell all.
“Gabi is the Gazette’s new advice columnist,” she explained. “People ask questions and she answers them,” she added when Dooley opened his mouth to ask ‘What is an advice columnist?’ “For instance, this one was posted just this morning.” She read from the screen. “Dear Gabi. My husband seems to have lost interest in me lately. We’ve been married twenty-eight years and he hasn’t touched me in months. What should I do? Signed, Desperate Debbie. Debbie isn’t her real name,” Harriet added for good measure.
“And what did Gabi advise this Desperate Debbie?” I asked, intrigued.
“Dear Desperate Debbie. After twenty-eight years it’s not unusual to lose that romantic spark. To find it again you need to spice up your love life. Make things exciting again in the bedroom. When was the last time you bought yourself some new lingerie? Or tried a different position? Be bold and let me know what happened!”
“What different position?” asked Dooley. “What does Gabi mean, Max?”
“Um…” I said.
“She’s probably talking about the position of the, um, bed,” said Brutus.
“Oh, you mean rearrange the furniture?” said Dooley. “Yes, I can see how that would be exciting. Though it doesn’t explain the lingerie,” he added with a frown.
I decided to level with my friend. After all, Dooley was old enough to understand certain things now about the world of man. “The thing is, Dooley,” I said, “that when a man and a woman love each other, they express that affection by engaging in certain… activities. It’s called lovemaking, you see?”
“Does this involve kissing?” asked Dooley.
“Yes, it does involve kissing,” I said, much relieved. Once upon a time the task of explaining about the birds and the bees had been assigned to me, and I’m afraid I hadn’t done a very good job. “Lots and lots of kissing. In fact people kiss so much that sometimes this results in babies being born.”
“Oh, I know all about that,” said Dooley lightly. “I watch the Discovery Channel every night and there’s lots of talk about babies. Did you know, for instance, that the common housefly can have up to nine hundred babies in its lifetime?”
“That’s a lot of babies,” I said.
“Though flies don’t usually need lingerie,” he said, his frown returning. “Unless I missed something. Gran switches channels when there’s too many commercial breaks.”
“Well, humans do like lingerie,” I said. “You see, the human male and the human female, when they make love… um…” I cast about for an explanation that wouldn’t require me to get too graphic, and luckily Brutus decided to come to my assistance.
“Static electricity,” he blurted out.
Dooley directed a questioning look at the cat, who blinked.
“Oh, Brutus, sweetie,” said Harriet with a laugh.
“No, I’m serious,” Brutus persevered. “During all of this… lovemaking, static electricity is created by… rubbing… certain body parts against… other body parts. And it’s this static electricity that results in babies. And since lingerie is often made of satin, it increases static electricity and therefore, um, the baby-making, um, requirements.”
I stared at him, and shook my head. Of all the lame explanations, this one took the cake. But Dooley happily gobbled it up. “That is so interesting, Brutus. No one ever told me that babies are created like that. It makes perfect sense. Absolutely.”
“Of course it does,” said Harriet, trying to stifle another guffaw.
“Anyway, that explains the, um, lingerie Gabi mentioned,” said Brutus.
“Sound advice,” I said, nodding as I kept a straight face. “From Gabi, I mean.”
“Oh, Gabi’s advice is always sound,” said Harriet. “Her answer to me was nothing short of brilliant.”
“You asked her for advice?”
“Of course I did,” she said primly, and hopped down from the couch.
“So what was it?” I asked, my curiosity thoroughly piqued.
“None of your business, Max,” she said a little haughtily. “Suffice it to say her answer gave me plenty of food for thought.” And with these words, she walked off.
After Dooley and I had followed her departure, our gazes swiveled to Brutus, who was shaking his head. “I’m sorry, you guys,” he said. “I really can’t. She told me not to tell anyone, and that includes you.”
“Oh, come on, Brutus,” I said. “You cannot not tell us after that buildup. Spill.”
But he pressed his lips together and went on shaking his head, as if afraid he might inadvertently blurt out Harriet’s big secret if he opened his mouth.
“Does it have something to do with lingerie?” asked Dooley.
“No, it does not,” said Brutus. “No lingerie involved whatsoever. And please don’t ask me because I won’t tell you.” He made to jump down from the couch, but I stopped him with a gesture from my paw.
“Tell us, Brutus. We’re all friends here, and friends don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“In this case, yes, they do,” he intimated.
“Oh, I know,” said Dooley. “Harriet is actually Desperate Debbie, and the husband she was complaining about is you, isn’t it, Brutus?”
“No, it’s not!” said Brutus, sounding a little incensed. “I’ll have you know that Harriet has never had anything to complain about where our love life is concerned. Not once.”
“Oh,” said Dooley. He shrugged. “Well, then I have no idea what she means.”
I had no idea either, and I won’t conceal the fact that it irked me. I mean to say, I never have any secrets to hide from my housemates, so I didn’t see why they would keep secrets from me. It wasn’t fair. But then I figured there was a simple solution: clearly Harriet’s question had been answered to her satisfaction by this Gabi, so all I had to do was sift through the different questions until I’d found the one Harriet had posted.
“Sorry,” said Brutus, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and jumped down from the couch. The moment he’d gone, I checked Odelia’s tablet for answers. I quickly scrolled through the many letters people had sent in and the answers Gabi had posted. None of them struck me as Harriet’s, though, and when I finally gave up I still wasn’t any the wiser.
I found Dooley staring at me with a bemused expression on his face.
“What?” I asked.
“Cats don’t need lingerie,” he said, as if he’d just had an epiphany. “If we rub our furs together the crackle should be enough to create plenty of babies.” His eyes went wide. “Oh, no!” He gulped. “Every time I rub myself against Odelia’s new fleece sweater there’s a definite crackle. I hope I didn’t get myself pregnant!”
Chapter 2
Vesta Muffin stood staring at the wrought-iron gate in front of her, then down at the little piece of paper Dan Goory had given her. Yep, it looked like she was at the right place, all right. So she took a deep breath and pressed her finger on the buzzer.