Two enormous yellow eyes stared at me from inside. A big gray cat with a thick coat and the expression of someone who has seen everything and judged it already. He sized me up, decided I wasn’t worth the effort, and turned his head away with dignity.
“Let’s hear about this ‘nurse,’” I said.
Linda sighed deeply.
“He wakes me up. Every night. Around three or four. Not gently—insistently. First he taps my face. If I ignore him, he claws harder, nips me, pulls the blanket, runs across me. He doesn’t stop until I get up and go sleep on the couch.”
“And he stays in the bedroom?”
“Yes! The moment I leave, he curls up on my pillow and sleeps peacefully until morning. Meanwhile, I’m stuck on the couch. I used to sleep there when my husband snored—when he was alive. Now the cat’s taken over.”
Oliver pretended none of this concerned him.
“How long has this been happening?”
“About three months. I thought maybe the seasons were affecting him. But it hasn’t stopped. He used to sleep beside me like a normal cat. Now he evicts me.”