The Aristokittens #1 (Volume 1)

“Louis!” Marie exclaimed.

The fluffy black cat sat in the doorway of Madame’s study with a chef’s hat on the floor in front of him.

“I’m sorry I ran off like that,” he said. “I was just so surprised to hear you mention Pierre and Le Café des Creatures. And, you know, we are cats, after all. Cats hate surprises.”

“I’m confused,” Berlioz said. “Pierre told us that Monsieur Midnight and his human moved to America.”

“Yes, that was the plan,” Louis said. “But right before we were supposed to leave, I realized I would miss my beloved Paris too much. My human could tell I didn’t want to move, so he let me stay behind. I’ve always wanted to live the alley cat life! I’m happy, but I wish I could see my old friend Pierre.”

“Then why didn’t you go tell him you were still here?” Toulouse asked.

Louis hung his head. “Pierre is a very loyal dog. At first I was afraid he’d still be angry with me, because his human was angry with my human, and we had such an awful fight. Then the more time passed, the harder it became to go visit him.”

“Oh, Louis…” Marie said. “I think Pierre misses you very much, too. You should have seen his face when he talked about Monsieur Midnight and all the fun you two had running the café.”

“He remembers all the fun?” Louis asked, his face brightening.

“Yes!” Marie said. “And obviously, so do you. We have to get you back together.”

Louis waved his paw. “Don’t worry about that. We have a café tryout to plan.”

“But first we have a friendship to save,” Marie said.

“That’s more important,” Berlioz added.

Toulouse thought quietly for a few moments. Then he exclaimed, “Hey, I think I have a plan for both those things!”

Late afternoon light seeped in through the small windows of the café, throwing patterns across the floor. Toulouse worked on his mural while Berlioz repaired a broken table leg with a piece of chewing gum he’d found in the alley.

He paused, sniffed the air, and turned to his brother. “Mmmm,” he murmured. “Fresh cream.”

Toulouse nodded. “Cheese, too. And spinach. Also, maybe a tomato?”

“Plus eggs. They must be making quiche!”

Both brothers began to purr at the delicious thought.

In the kitchen, Marie peeked into the oven. Louis had fixed it, but she was still worried about another food-on-fire situation. The black cat stood near the counter, mixing up cookie batter for dessert.

Knock-knock.

“Hello?” a squeaky voice called from outside the secret café door. “Kittens, are you here?”

“It’s Roquefort!” Berlioz told Toulouse. “Go let him in!”

Toulouse opened the door to find their mouse friend, dressed up in a little red cap and coat.

“Greetings, Berlioz!” Roquefort said, and stepped aside to reveal three other mice, also wearing coats. “This is my cousin Brie, and my other cousin, Camembert, and my other other cousin, Munster.”

“Welcome to our café!” Toulouse said, leading them inside to a mouse-sized table. “I’ll take your coats.”

“Your meal should be ready soon,” said Berlioz. “I can play you a song while you’re waiting.”

Berlioz sat down at the piano and started to play one of his new jazz tunes. The instrument sounded much better now that it didn’t have a box of old photos buried inside it.

Pierre appeared on the back stairs. “Is it time yet?” he called. “It smells like it might be.”

“Yes,” Toulouse told him, pointing to a dog-sized table set with a matching plate, cup, and silverware. “We set this table just for you.”

“Psssst,” Marie whispered to her brothers from the kitchen doorway. “Come here. Your bows are crooked.”

Berlioz and Toulouse let their sister fix the ribbons around their necks.

“There,” Marie said when she was done. “Now, here’s a cart with the quiche and lemonade. Don’t you dare drop anything!”

“Sure, Mademoiselle Chef,” Berlioz said. He wheeled the cart to Roquefort, his cousins, and Pierre. He and Toulouse had barely finished passing out all the food and drinks when Roquefort declared, “Dee-li-ci-ous! Double dee-li-ci-ous, in fact!”

The mice were gobbling up the quiche, but Pierre was taking his time. He scooped up one pawful, popped it in his mouth, and chewed slowly.

“Bah!” Pierre said. “This tastes so much like Monsieur Midnight’s quiche it’s eerie. It brings back many memories.”

“Good memories?” Berlioz asked.

“Definitely,” Pierre said with a smile. “Although I must say, this quiche might even be better than his. His quiche was always a little too…cheesy.”

“TOO CHEESY?” someone howled from the kitchen. “You were always telling me to put more cheese in it!”

Pierre froze midchew, then swallowed hard. He slowly turned toward the voice. When he saw Louis standing in the kitchen doorway, his mouth fell open.

“M-M-Midnight?” he stammered.

Berlioz and Toulouse slunk into the kitchen to join Marie, and the three kittens crouched down to watch what happened next.

“Hello, mon ami,” Louis said, taking a few steps forward. “It’s good to see your face.”

“Wh-wh-what are you doing here?” Pierre asked.

“I’m here to help my friends Berlioz, Toulouse, and Marie learn how to run a café. The animals of Paris need to have their own eatery again, don’t you think?”

Pierre hopped off his chair and stepped closer to Louis so their noses were nearly touching.

“I thought you were in America,” Pierre said.

“I thought you never wanted to speak to me again,” Louis said in return. “That was quite a fight we had that day my human told yours he was leaving.”

“It was,” Pierre said with a nod. “But we shouldn’t have let one fight ruin a whole friendship.”

“I agree.” Louis bowed his head. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?”

“Not for me,” Pierre replied. “I’m sorry, too, my friend. Bah, how I’ve missed you!”

They touched noses. The kittens exchanged excited glances. Success!

“My quiche was too cheesy back then, wasn’t it?” Louis added. “I’ve learned not to use so much.”

The brown-and-white bulldog and the fluffy black cat laughed.

After a few moments, Toulouse bounded toward them and said, “Hey, Pierre? How did we do on our tryout? Do you think we can run a café?”

Pierre smiled. “Bah! I certainly do! Maybe you can talk Monsieur Midnight into coming in to help again.”

The kittens started jumping on one another in excitement. “Yay! Woo-hoo!”

“But I can’t officially say yes,” Pierre added, “unless you agree to one more thing.”

Marie, Berlioz, and Toulouse stopped wrestling. One more thing?

“The name of the café,” Pierre continued. “It came to me in a dream last night.”

He held up a paw to Toulouse’s mural, showing them where the words might appear. “The Purrfect Paw-tisserie.”

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

“I love it!” Berlioz exclaimed.

“Ha ha ha!” Toulouse laughed. “Yes!”

“That’s the best name ever,” Marie said, rushing to nuzzle the bulldog. “Thank you, Monsieur Pierre! Thank you!”

“Together, we all make a great team,” Louis said.

Berlioz thought for a moment, then chimed in: “Everything does come out better when we get over our differences and cooperate.”

“Yes,” Pierre agreed. “And that’s good…because we still have lots of work to do.”