“Your turn, or mine?” Michelle asked when they arrived at Hannah’s door.

“Yours. I’ll unlock and open. You brace yourself.”

“Ready.”

Hannah opened the door and quickly stepped to the side. Michelle jumped into position in front of the doorway and braced herself for what was about to happen. Both of them heard the thump as Moishe jumped off the back of the living room couch and streaked toward the door. A second later, he was airborne until he landed in Michelle’s outstretched arms.

“That was a good one, Moishe,” Michelle said, giving him a scratch under the chin as she carried him inside and placed him in his favorite position on the back of the couch. Then she turned to Hannah. “Is he getting heavier?”

“I don’t know. He could be. He’s been really hungry lately. Maybe I’d better put him on a diet.”

As if in response to Hannah’s comment, Moishe let out a yowl. Then he turned to give Hannah a baleful look.

“I think he knows that word,” Michelle said.

“I think you’re right. He just gave me the same death ray glance Mother used to give us when we did something really bad. I should have said that I might have to change his eating habits.”

Both sisters turned to look at Moishe, but his expression was perfectly neutral and he made no sound. “That works,” Michelle said.

“It works for now, but he’ll figure it out. Moishe’s a really smart cat. I’ll call Dr. Bob and see if I can get an appointment for tomorrow. They can check him out and put him on the scale.”

Moishe gave another yowl and the fur on his back began to bristle.

“He doesn’t like Dr. Bob anymore?” Michelle asked, staring at the cat who had narrowed his eyes and laid back his ears.

“He adores Dr. Bob. And Sue, too. That’s not it. He just heard me say the word . . .” Hannah stopped until she thought of another word . . . “weighing device. I think he caught that particular phobia from me. I don’t like to step on the weighing device either.” Hannah gave Moishe a little pat and headed for the kitchen. “Since I’m going out with Norman, you’re going to need something for dinner. I’ll see what’s in the refrigerator.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m sure there’s something. And if there’s not, I can always call out for a pizza. Lonnie said Bertanelli’s delivers in the summer.”

“That’s true. They hire high school kids with their own cars and pay them mileage. It’s good for the kids and Bert told me that it’s great for their business.”

Hannah had just stepped into the kitchen when the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” she called out to Michelle, and picked up the wall phone by the kitchen table. “The Cookie Jar. This is Hannah speak . . . oops!”

There was laughter on the other end of the line. “Did you forget you’d left work?” her caller asked.