The Year the Cat Saved Christmas - a novella (6 page)

Jill couldn't help smiling. "Looks like
you're about to make it seven, Eddie."

"Eddie," said Claire in her most wifely tone
of voice, "don't you notice something special?"

Eddie's eyes widened. "Well, saints alive! If
the two lovebirds aren't back together again and just in time for
Christmas."

"It's a miracle, that's what it is," said
Claire, dabbing her eyes with the edge of her apron. "We've been
praying for it since you told us you were getting a divorce. I just
knew God was listening and wouldn't let us down...."

#

Then

The cottage was set back from the road. It
was small and doll-like, with dark green shutters and window boxes
and rosebushes planted everywhere. The rosebushes were snow-covered
now but Jill could imagine how beautiful they would look come
spring.

"It's wonderful," Jill breathed.

"We can't afford it," David said. "C'mon,
Jilly. We'd better go."

"No!" She tugged at his hand. "The Zimmermans
are expecting us. We told them we'd be here at two o'clock. The
least we can do is keep our promise."

"I don't like that look in your eyes," David
said, his blue eyes serious. "Look at this place, Jilly. Do you
really think we can swing something like this?"

"I don't know but it doesn't cost anything to
look."

"You've got your hopes up and I don't want
you to be disappointed."

"I'm a big girl, David. I can take a little
disappointment. Let's meet the Zimmermans and see what they have to
say."

Everything about the cottage enchanted Jill:
the rosebushes, the sunny kitchen, the Zimmermans themselves. Eddie
and Claire were a well-to-do childless couple in their late
sixties. The cottage was the first house they'd ever owned and,
hopelessly romantic, they'd held onto it through the years for
sentimental reasons.

"Laurel and Vincent moved away six weeks
ago," Claire said as they sipped hot cocoa in the kitchen.

"Why did they move?" David asked in the edgy
tone of voice he used when he was worried about money. He shot Jill
a look. They probably couldn't afford the place.

Jill shot him a look of her own. Just be
quiet and listen.

Claire, oblivious to the non-verbal byplay,
gave them both a beatific smile.

"Laurel gave birth to a beautiful baby girl
on Easter Sunday. Their new house has a wonderful nursery for
little Elizabeth."

"A baby!" Jill sighed with delight. "How
wonderful."

"Oh, it was, it was," Claire assured her.
"This cottage is a very lucky place for babies." Her faded blue
eyes grew misty and she patted her husband's hand.

Jill's heart ached for them. How awful it
must be to want a baby and never be blessed with one.

David stood up. "Listen, we're probably
wasting your time. We don't have a lot of money, Mr. Zimmerman.
It's a good bet we can't afford this place."

"David!" Jill's cheeks reddened with
embarrassment.

Mr. Zimmerman wasn't the slightest bit
perturbed. "No, no, Mrs. Whittaker. I admire a man who puts his
cards on the table that way." He stood up and faced David.

"One hundred dollars a month. You do the yard
work in the summer, snow removal in the winter."

"You're kidding," David said. "Aren't
you?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Mr. Zimmerman
said, smiling.

Jill's heart was pounding so hard she thought
she'd faint. "One hundred dollars?" she asked, her voice nothing
more than a squeak.

"If that's too much, we'll lower it to
seventy-five," Mrs. Zimmerman said. "Life has been very kind to us.
If we can help a young couple get started, that's enough for
us."

Jill turned to David. "We'll never find a
more perfect place."

David nodded and she threw her arms around
him. "What about Sebastian?"

She swallowed. "I--um, I hope this isn't a
problem, but we have a cat...a kitten really. His name is Sebastian
and--"

"The more the merrier," Claire said. "We have
quite a menagerie ourselves."

Mr. Zimmerman extended his hand to David.
"Then it's a deal?"

David shook the older man's hand. "It's a
deal."

And with those words, Jill and David were
welcomed into the Zimmermans' cottage and into their hearts.

#

"Oh, Claire..." Jill's voice broke and she
cursed her emotions for betraying her.

She hated disappointing Claire this way.
"There hasn't been a miracle. Sebastian is missing. We were hoping
he might have come here."

Poor Claire. Her big smile faltered then
faded entirely. Every line and wrinkle on her eighty year old face
fell into sharp relief. Eddie patted her on the shoulder and
whispered something only his wife could hear. It was such a natural
gesture, so much a part of their sixty years together, that it came
close to breaking Jill's heart.

That's all I ever wanted
, she thought,
feeling older than Claire, older than the world.
Just to know I
could grow old with him.

"Sebastian," Eddie prompted, meeting Jill's
eyes. "Has the old boy run off again?"

Jill nodded. She didn't dare look at Claire
because if she did she knew she'd start crying. "The movers were
here this morning and he got underfoot. I scolded him and I guess
he decided to teach me a lesson."

"He's a sly one Sebastian is." Eddie
chuckled. "Though I can't much imagine him traipsing through the
snow. Seems to me he's more the warm fire and cozy blanket type
nowadays."

"Did you look under the porch?" Claire asked,
her voice warm with concern. "I'll bet you he's hiding under there,
waiting for all the commotion to die down."

"I'm sure we looked under the porch." She
turned to David. "Didn't we?"

"I think so," he said. He didn't sound any
more sure than she felt.

"I thought he might come here," Jill offered.
"He's known you since he was a kitten. You two have been so kind to
him when we've gone away on vacation." The Zimmermans had opened up
their beautiful home to Sebastian and the rest of the menagerie and
given them the run of the place. Jill shuddered just thinking about
Sebastian grooming himself on one of their Aubusson carpets but
neither Claire nor Eddie worried a whit.

"We love having him stay with us," Claire
said, patting her on the arm. "Maine coon cats don't take well to
being cooped up in a kennel. Besides, what's this big old house for
if we can't fill it with the people and things we love."

"Apparently Maine coon cats don't take too
well to moving either," Jill said. "We have to find him before the
kids come home from the mall. They've been through so much. If
Sebastian--" She refused to finish the sentence but everyone knew
how it ended.

"Let me make us all some hot chocolate,"
Claire said. "We'll come up with a plan."

"That's so kind of you," Jill said, "but we
have to get back out there and search for Sebastian."

"We understand," Eddie said with a reproving
look for his wife. "We'll spread the word through the neighborhood.
If everyone pitches in, the old boy will be home before you know
it."

Impulsively Jill hugged Claire then Eddie
while tears streamed down her cheeks. She hadn't cried this much in
years. "I'm going to miss you so much," she said. "You two are
family."

"You're not moving that far away," Claire
said, her own eyes wet with tears. "We'll still see each
other."

"You can't get rid of us that easily," Eddie
said. "Flemington is a hop, skip, and a jump from here."

Jill nodded but she knew that after tomorrow
everything would be different.

David stepped forward and extended his hand.
"I guess this is goodbye then," he said.

"Safe trip to San Francisco," Eddie said,
shaking David's hand briefly. "I hope you find what you're looking
for."

Claire said nothing at all, just dabbed at
her eyes with the hem of her apron.

"What did he mean, he hopes I find what I'm
looking for?" David asked as they made their way down the driveway
to the car.

"I think he meant exactly what he said." She
pulled her collar up around her neck and burrowed deep.

They reached the car. He opened the passenger
door for her then walked around to the driver's side.

"So I'm the bad guy in this," he said a few
moments later as they swung around the Zimmermans' circular
driveway and headed back toward the main road.

"I didn't hear anyone say that."

"Come on, Jill. You saw what happened back
there. They couldn't wait to see me leave."

"They were disappointed. They thought we'd
reconciled. You can't blame them for being upset."

"So why take it out on me? Last I heard, it
takes two to reconcile."

She drew in a deep breath. "You're the one
who's moving across country."

"You and the kids could have moved with
me."

"Sure," she said, her hackles rising in
anger. "Uproot them from school, take them away from their friends,
leave our families behind. Sounds like a great idea to me."

"They're only six, Jill. They'd make friends
wherever they lived."

"My home is here."
Our home, you fool, if
you'd just open your eyes.

"So why are you selling the house?"

"Because--" She stopped short.
Because I
don't want to live there without you.

"Forget it," she said finally. "We agreed to
sell the house and split the profits and that's what I'm
doing."

He grew noticeably tight-jawed. "You're
making a mistake."

She arched a brow. "I could say the same
thing to you."

Seeing Eddie and Claire had stirred up
memories of their first years together. She had loved David so
deeply, so freely, without boundaries or reservation. And he had
loved her the same way in return. So where on earth had it all gone
wrong? She supposed it hardly mattered. Their house was up for
sale. Their divorce would be final at midnight. And Sebastian, who
had been there from the very beginning, was gone.
A clean
sweep
, she thought. Too bad it wasn't what she wanted.

They rode in silence for a few hundred yards
then David slammed on the brakes at the intersection of the main
road and the Zimmermans' street. The Porsche went into a gentle
skid. Jill's arm reached out automatically to protect him. His arm
reached out at the same time to protect her.

Jill cleared her throat. "You stopped for a
reason?"

"I'll let you know." He swung open the door
and climbed out. She watched as he walked around the front of the
car, then bent down to retrieve something in the intersection.

"Since when do you have the instincts of a
bloodhound," she said when he slid behind the wheel again. "You're
the man who can't find his car keys when they're in the
ignition."

He held out his hand. "Sebastian's
collar."

Her heart lurched as she grabbed for the
object. No doubt about it. Sebastian's identification was clearly
marked inside. "It's in perfect shape," she said. "Someone must
have unhooked it for him."

"I saw paw prints," David said. "Heading
toward town."

"Like little snowshoes?" Sebastian's paws
were made for traveling snowy paths.

"Exactly like snowshoes," David said. "It's
got to be Sebastian."

He turned the car in the direction of
town.

"You know what they're going to think, don't
you?"

He glanced at her, puzzled. "That we're
looking for Sebastian."

She shook her head. "That we're back together
again. Just like Jake Malloy thought."

Some of the stiffness eased from his jaw.
"That shouldn't be a problem," he said. "We'll tell them that
nothing has changed. We're together because we're trying to find
Sebastian."

"You make it sound simple."

"It is simple, Jill."

"That's what's wrong with men," she said,
more amused than annoyed. "You're oblivious to nuance."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She started to laugh despite herself. "If you
have to ask--"

"That's what's wrong with women," he said.
She wasn't sure where he fell on the amusement/annoyance scale.
"You waste too much time worrying about things like nuance.
Sometimes you have to act first and analyze later. Remember the day
Sebastian terrorized the butcher shop and they called the police?
We didn't waste too much time analyzing why he dragged all the
filet mignons out of the front case and into the street."

"I'd forgotten all about that."

David's grin was rueful. "I haven't. It cost
three hundred and seventy-two dollars that we didn't have."

Another rush of memories came back to her.
"You did Frank's yard work that whole summer."

"And you wrote all of his advertising
copy."

"'Succulent leg of lamb on sale Wednesdays
only.'" She rolled her eyes. "I was a veritable wordsmith."

"You haven't done too badly for yourself,
Jill."

His statement caught her off-guard. He rarely
mentioned her writing. He'd thrown a party for her when she sold
her first book but there'd been a haunted look in his eyes that
she'd never forgotten. He said that her money was her money and
that he would continue to support the family on his earnings alone.
Their accountant knew a hundred percent more about her work than
her husband did.

#

David saw the surprise on Jill's face and he
regretted saying anything at all. He was proud as hell of all she'd
accomplished. He knew how hard it was to get a book published.
Competition was fierce and it took guts as well as talent to
succeed. Every time he tried to tell her how much he admired her
achievements, the words caught in his throat and he was tumbled
back to those early days when they were poor and struggling. She'd
given up so much when she married him: money and social standing
and whatever tenuous connection she had with her family.