The Nine Lives of Christmas (7 page)

“It might not be so easy,” said Zach.

“I’m beginning to suspect that you don’t want to get rid of this cat,” said Blair Baby.

Good. He shouldn’t want to
.

“I didn’t say that.”

Well then, say it now. What are you thinking?

“Look,” said Zach, not sounding happy. “Can we forget about the cat?”

Forget about the cat? What a bad idea!

“Fine,” she said, her brittle voice reminding Ambrose of a small, yappy dog.

Now there was fresh silence in the shiny black car, and it wasn’t the cozy kind of silence Ambrose and Zach enjoyed when they were lounging on the couch in the evening.

At last the cougar spoke again. “I guess I’ll just go home.”

Good idea. Go home and stay there
.

This time it was Zach who sighed. “No, don’t do that. We’ll drop off Tom, then we can go do something fun.”

“All right. But I am not coming back to your stinky house,” said the cougar.

Fine by me,
thought Ambrose.

“Not unless we stop by Hallmark and pick up some scented candles,” she added. Now her voice was a purr. “Cinnamon, perhaps. Something … spicy?” She reached a red-tipped hand across the seat toward Zach and started slithering it up his leg.

“Hey, now, I’m trying to drive,” he protested, but Ambrose could tell it was halfhearted. Zach and the cougar were back on friendly terms.

This turn of events robbed Ambrose of the satisfaction he’d felt over his small victory in Pet Palace. Zach hadn’t figured out what to do with him but the cougar had. She wanted him gone by Christmas. Gone where, he had no idea, but he did know one thing: the way his luck had been running it wouldn’t be any place good. This did not bode well for his ninth life. It didn’t bode well for Zach, either, who clearly needed Ambrose to save him from a fate worse than death by a cat door.

Ambrose shifted his paws under him and settled down to think. He was going to have to do something to fix this problem.

FIVE

Back at the house Zach turned Tom loose with a stern reminder to use his cat door. “Litter boxes are like diapers, dude, and you’re too old for diapers. Don’t let me down.”

If he and Blair came home and Tom had whizzed inside the house it wouldn’t be pretty. Blair would be mad. Actually, so would Zach, and Tom would be a dead cat.

“Are you sure he knows to use his cat door?” asked Blair.

“He’d better,” said Zach. The cat was becoming a problem.

That wasn’t fair, he concluded as he trailed Blair around the Hallmark store, past rows of holiday wrapping paper, ribbons, and cards. For the most part the little guy was pretty easy to get along with as long as Zach remembered to feed him. And Tom didn’t make scenes.

Which was more than Zach could say for Blair. He’d seen a whole side of her he’d never witnessed before, and it hadn’t been pretty. The way she’d carried on at Pet Palace when Tom scratched her had made shoppers gawk and had set a three-alarm fire racing across Zach’s cheeks.

Worst of all, though, had been the disgusted expression he’d seen on Merilee’s face. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been pretty disgusted, too, not just with the way Blair had treated Merilee but also with himself. He’d known the poor cat was scared the second he looked in the carrier. He should have left the store right then.

He sniffed the candle Blair held under his nose. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

She smiled. “Good. I’m getting it for you.”

A candle, just what he’d always wanted. “I can get it myself,” he said, reaching for it.

“Huh-uh. I want to.” She danced out of range. “Think of it as a peace offering,” she added, looking penitent.

She wanted to make up for the scene in Pet Palace. Now, that was sweet. It was times like this, when Blair was being cute and fun that he liked hanging out with her. Okay, so she’d been a bit of a drama queen back at the store, but maybe she had a right to be a little dramatic. After all, the cat did scratch her.

The candle purchased and bagged, she propelled him toward the door. Outside, though, she stopped to put her change in the Salvation Army bell-ringer’s bucket.

“Thank you,” said the man. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she said. “I never pass one of those buckets without putting in something,” she informed Zach.

How could a guy stay mad at a woman when she did things like that?

“Now,” she said briskly, “let’s go get some dinner. And when we get back to the house I’ve got a surprise for you.”

New lingerie? He grinned. “Okay.”

But the surprise was nothing pleasant.

“A tree?” he said, staring at the gigantic cardboard box in the back of her SUV.

She nodded eagerly. “I found it on sale, fifty percent off. Merry Christmas early!”

“A tree,” he repeated. And a fake one at that.

“And I’ve got the most gorgeous ornaments for it,” she continued, grabbing a smaller box. “We can put it up tonight.” She smiled at him. “Are you surprised?”

“Speechless.” She was looking so pleased with herself, so ready to please him. How to tell her he didn’t want the thing?

There was no way, of course, not without hurting her feelings.
A tree in the bay window, and a wife and kids
. He suddenly felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. In a desperate search for oxygen, he took a deep breath.

“You don’t like it?”

He knew that expression. She was staring at him in disbelief, like he’d somehow betrayed her.

“No, no. It’s just, well, I hadn’t planned on a tree. I mean, what does a single guy need with a tree?”

“It’ll give you Christmas spirit,” said Blair.

“I don’t know.” Zach had pretty much lost his Christmas spirit. Watching your dad move out over Christmas break, getting dumped by your fiancée on Christmas Eve—little things like that tended to make a man lose his zest for the holidays.

“Trust me,” Blair said. “It’ll be gorgeous, and we’ll have fun putting it up together, just you and me.”

He swallowed his reluctance and nodded.

“Anyway, this is our first Christmas together and I wanted to give you something special, something significant.”

Something significant? What was she expecting to get from him? He forced a smile and tried to breathe.

“Come on,” she said eagerly. “Let’s get it in the house and get started.”

More like get it over with. Tom sat watching from a far corner, tail flicking back and forth, as they set up the lighted tree. Zach was feeling a little twitchy himself. “Now, before we start, let’s set the mood,” said Blair. Next thing he knew she’d set up his iPod to give them some background Christmas music, the scented candle she’d bought was burning, and they were trimming the tree with silver garlands. Okay, this wasn’t bad, kind of nice, actually.

“Our first Christmas together,” Blair observed as she pulled out a box of blue ornaments. “I wonder what my sweetie got for me.” She gave him a playful look. “Something from Tiffany’s maybe? I love Tiffany’s. Or maybe a vacation? It’s been forever since I’ve been to Cabo.”

Zach turned to hang an ornament and hide his dismay. He thought of the chocolates he’d ordered on line. He’d been pretty pleased with himself at the time. Now the words “not going to cut it” echoed through his mind.

It was no secret that Blair had never lacked for the finer things in life. Her parents and her ex-husband had made sure she was well provided for—and then some. The last time he’d gone shopping with her she’d dropped more money on a single handbag than he’d spent on his entire wardrobe … for the past three years.

Still, she knew he was a firefighter so she couldn’t really be expecting anything that lavish. Could she? She’d been teasing. Hadn’t she?

Ho, boy.

They finished with the tree and she slipped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. Had she put on more perfume? Maybe that scented candle was getting to him. Maybe he was allergic to cinnamon. His throat started to close and he coughed.

She looked up at him in concern. “Are you getting sick?”

“No, just a tickle in the throat. I must be allergic to decorating,” he cracked. “Or cinnamon.” Or … something.

“It’s probably cat dander. Good thing he’ll be relocated by Christmas,” said Blair. She blew out the candle, then caught Zach by the hand and led him to the couch. “There. Now let’s take a break.”

And what a break it was. Blair decided to spend the night.

So, once more, all was calm, all was bright … until he drifted off to sleep and found himself in bed, tied down with more chains than Marley’s ghost. A figure stood at his bedside: Merilee from Pet Palace, and she was holding Tom and looking at Zach with disappointment. “That woman … I thought you had better taste.”

“She’s not so bad,” Zach protested.

“You can say that, after the way she acted today? She showed her true colors and there you are, pretending to be colorblind. Shame on you,” Dream Merilee scolded. “Choosing that woman over this poor helpless kitty. I thought you were more noble.”

“I am noble,” he protested. “I took the little guy in.”

“And then threw him away just so you could get laid.”

“I haven’t thrown him away,” Zach protested. “He’s still here somewhere. Anyway, I never said I’d keep the cat.”

“You don’t keep anything or anyone, do you?” taunted this new and unimproved Merilee.

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who gave back the ring on Christmas Eve,” he protested. “And she dumped me for my best friend!”

“Nice try,” sneered Merilee. “Blame your problems on your ex-girlfriend. But it won’t work. She knew you were getting cold feet. Cold feet to match that cold heart.”

Zach was about to protest that he didn’t have a cold heart when, out of nowhere, a dump truck backed up to his bed and started unloading a ton of iron chains on top of him. The weight was crushing him, suffocating him. “Help! Somebody help me!”

He woke up with a strangled cry to find the room awash in predawn shadows. Blair had thrown an arm across his chest. He gently removed it and she gave a snort and rolled over onto her side. He stayed on his back, staring at the ceiling and willing his heartbeat to settle.

It was just a dumb dream,
he said to himself and forced his eyes shut.

He never got back to sleep though. Instead, he lay there and dredged up memories of the good times he’d had with Blair over the last few months. She’d been the perfect woman, a few years older than him, happily single, and just out to enjoy life. They’d had some fun times: played a lot of tennis before the weather turned, spent some rainy autumn afternoons enjoying matinees at the Falls Cinema. But right along with those pleasant memories came less pleasant ones: her temper tantrum in Pet Palace, how she’d pouted when he took her to Angelina’s on her birthday and then later admitted that she’d been hoping he’d surprise her with a weekend jaunt to San Diego instead. When she’d told him she was craving Mexican from her favorite restaurant in San Diego she’d been giving him a hint—which he hadn’t quite gotten.

Now he thought of her hints while they had been putting up the tree. What, exactly, did she want from Tiffany’s? He started to sweat. While he’d spent the last three months thinking they were inner tubing down the river of life, having a good old time, she’d had them in a speedboat headed for the falls. Did he want to go over the falls with a woman he couldn’t afford? Did he want to go over the falls at all? Nooooo.

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter but it didn’t help. Next to him, Blair murmured something in her sleep and gave a little giggle. What was so funny?

*   *   *

Ambrose knew he had to do something to redeem himself for his behavior when Zach and the cat-killer took him to see the Santa monster. But how?

Of course! He’d bring Zach a present. The early morning was frigid and there was frost on the ground, but Ambrose was a hunter. He could endure cold if it meant finding some juicy prey. And he had to find something this morning. It would be a bad idea to delay offering a sacrifice to Zach to prove his penitence.

He spent a good, long time huddled beneath a bush by the back door before his patience was finally rewarded. A fat robin landed on a bush and began foraging for berries. Ambrose crept forward inch by careful inch, his eyes never leaving the bird.
Get the prey, get the prey. You must succeed
.

Succeed he did. He took down the bird with a giant leap and in no time the thing was dead and mostly gone. After all, Ambrose had worked up an appetite with all that hunting. But he saved the very best delicacy for Zach, his family: the feet.

He picked them up and carried them in his mouth as carefully as if he were a mother with her kitten, forcing himself back through the dreaded cat door—using that thing still made his fur crawl—and into the eating room. He padded through the room and then trotted down the hall and up the stairs to the sleeping room where Zach and the cougar had disappeared the night before.

The door was slightly ajar and Ambrose slipped through, quiet as a shadow. Ah, he was in luck. Zach was in the room with the big drinking bowl, cleaning himself with water. (
Ugh
.) Ambrose could leave his present as a surprise on Zach’s pillow. He only hoped Zach wouldn’t share it with the undeserving cougar.

He jumped onto the bed and carefully deposited his gift. Then he hopped off and positioned himself by the door where he could see Zach’s delighted reaction to his big surprise. This would be great.

A moment later the cougar rolled over, stretched, and then looked for Zach. Then she looked at his pillow. Puzzled, she picked up one of the bird feet Ambrose had laid out so carefully.

No, that is not for you!

Suddenly the cougar let out a shriek and dropped the foot like it was dog feces. She dove from the bed, tangling herself in the blankets in the process and losing her balance. That sent her flying like a giant plucked bird into the nearby dresser. She bounced off of it and stumbled toward the middle of the room, stubbing a foot in the process and howling in pain.

Now Zach was in the room, staring at her in confusion. “What’s wrong?”