The Year the Cat Saved Christmas - a novella (8 page)

Jill took a deep breath and plunged in.
"Marge, this isn't what you think."

"Oh, honey!" A third wink in case they'd
missed the previous two. "Of course it is. A fool could see how
happy you are."

"Marge, I think you've had a bit too much
eggnog. David and I aren't getting back together again. We're just
trying to find Sebastian before the kids get home from the
mall."

Marge's jolly face sagged like a fallen
souffle. She sighed deeply. "Guess I'm one of a dying breed," she
said, looking from Jill to David. "My hubby calls me an incurable
romantic" Another sigh. "All I want is for everyone to be as happy
as Archie and I are."

"Archie is a lucky man," David said with a
perfectly straight face.

Jill suppressed a snort of laughter. Archie
was Marge's fifth husband. The other four had headed for the hills
before the first anniversary.

"Well, have a merry Christmas anyway," Marge
said, "although I must say you've put quite a damper on my holiday
mood."

"She certainly told us off," Jill said as
they escaped the hardware store. "You'd think we were divorcing
just to spite her."

"Maybe she wanted to give us tips on how to
have a happy marriage," David said. "You've got to admit she's had
enough experience."

"She means well."

"She's a loud-mouthed snoop who spends half
her life spreading gossip and the other half creating it."

"I never knew you spent so much time
analyzing Marge Foster."

"Marge is easy to figure out," he said. "It's
the rest of your gender that has me stumped."

Jill stopped in her tracks. "Frank's standing
in the doorway of the butcher shop and he doesn't look happy."

Frank was obviously fuming mad. For a second
Jill thought she saw steam swirling over his head. They were
definitely on Sebastian's trail.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. DeMarco," Jill said
pleasantly.

"Merry Christmas, my butt." Frank aimed a
glare at both of them. "That damn cat of yours wished me a merry
Christmas and now I'm out two crown roasts and a tenderloin. Don't
you people feed that animal?"

"Name your price, Frank." David pulled his
wallet out. "Just tell us where Sebastian went from here."

Frank treated them to a five minute tirade
against poor Sebastian before he accepted a hundred dollar bill and
their apologies. What he didn't do was tell them where Sebastian
was heading when he departed.

"Good for Sebastian," David said as the
butcher door slammed shut. "Too bad he didn't take the turkeys
too."

They started walking again and Jill shivered.
"It's getting worse out," she said, looking up at the heavy,
cream-colored sky. The wind had picked up considerably and the
temperature was dropping fast. She met David's eyes. "He'll never
make it through the night. Not in this weather."

David took her hand. She felt the same
bone-deep shock of recognition as she had before and she didn't
pull away.

"Cats have nine lives, remember? He hasn't
used up more than four or five."

She laughed despite her fear. "I would've
figured a solid seven."

"Five, max. Our Sebastian was born under a
lucky star."

"Twelve years ago tonight," she whispered.
"I'll never forget when he popped out of the backpack. I fell in
love right on the spot."

"Remember how his nose got out of joint when
the kids were born? He disappeared for three days after I started
carrying the twins around in his backpack."

"Sebastian got over it," she said, smiling at
the memories. "He loves the kids now. He's been sleeping on the
foot of Tori's bed since--"

Since you left
. She didn't say the
words aloud but then she didn't have to. They hung in the air
between them just the same.

They asked about Sebastian at the barber
shop, the hair salon, the deli, the video store, and the dry
cleaners. The same thing happened every time. The second their old
friends and neighbors saw Jill and David together they made the
inevitable leap in logic, only to have their hopes dashed.

Jill's nerves were shot. In less than a half
hour, she and David had fueled more gossip than Entertainment
Tonight and National Enquirer combined.

"If one more person tells me how thrilled
they are to see us together, I'll scream."

"They're looking for a happy ending, Jilly.
You can't blame them for that."

"It doesn't bother you?" she demanded as they
stopped in front of the bank.

"This is a small town. It comes with the
territory."

Jill made a face. "So says the man who's
leaving for San Francisco."

He checked his watch. "What time is Phyllis
bringing the kids back?"

"Around five," Jill said. He was probably
counting the minutes until he left for the airport.

"It's getting late."

Tears burned against her lids. "You're
right," she said, pushing her hair off her face with an impatient
gesture. "I should get home."

"If I wasn't expected at the open house
tomorrow, I'd change my plane reservations."

"Sure you would."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

"Damn it, Jill, Sebastian is every bit as
important to me as he is to you."

"I know that."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"That." He glowered at her. "Saying the right
thing in the wrong tone of voice."

"Sorry if I've offended you."

"If you've got something to say, say it. You
never used to be shy."

"I want to go home," she said, tears
threatening. "Maybe Sebastian is there."

"We haven't checked with Don at the
pharmacy."

"I'm not going in there."

"Since when?"

"Since now." Had they drifted so far apart
that he'd left those memories behind with everything else? "Say
something, David."
Tell me you remember the way it used to
be.

Instead, he looked at her for a long time
then turned and walked away.

#

Then

"You buy it," Jill said to David as they
loitered in aisle three of Tudor Pharmacy, pretending they were
choosing Christmas cards.

"You're embarrassed?" He sounded amused,
faintly surprised.

"Of course I'm not embarrassed." She
hesitated, feeling almost afraid to say the words in case she woke
up the gods of bad karma. "I'm superstitious."

Grinning, he leaned closer. "You're mumbling,
Jill. You never mumble."

She gave him a gentle elbow in the ribs. "I'm
superstitious," she repeated. "I'm not proud of it but there you
are." All week long she'd knocked on wood, tossed salt over her
shoulder, and turned her back on black cats. She knew she was
wishing for the impossible but who said miracles didn't happen?
Somehow she knew this time it would all be different.

He pretended to study the array of home
pregnancy tests on the shelf. "Which one has the magic?" he asked.
She heard the fear and pride and longing in his voice and knew a
fierce moment of love so deep and strong it almost frightened
her.

She pointed toward a blue box and followed
him to the cashier.

The next morning they waited together for the
results.

"Five minutes take a hell of a long time,"
David said, staring at the special receptacle that came with the
test.

She squeezed his hand. "I have a feeling,"
she whispered. "A good feeling."

He looked at her, his expression both curious
and hopeful. "So do I," he said.

They woke up before dawn the next
morning.

"Merry Christmas Eve," he said, kissing her
gently.

"Merry Christmas Eve," she said, then
disappeared into the bathroom with the package.

"We're going to be lucky this time, Jilly,"
he said as they waited. "Christmas Eve is our day."

"I know," she whispered. They'd met on
Christmas Eve. Sebastian came into their lives on Christmas Eve.
Maybe God would bless them with a miracle on Christmas Eve.

The clock ticked. Their hearts thundered.
Then the moment came.

"I can't look," she said, burying her face
against his shoulder. Finally, after all these years, a doctor had
offered them a chance at heaven. Things were different for them
now. David was earning a good salary and they had plowed most of it
into exploring every medical avenue available that might lead them
closer to a healthy, happy baby. They'd weathered disappointment
after disappointment by holding tight to each other and to their
dream of parenthood, but the experience had taken its toll.

She loved him so much and he deserved the
family he yearned for. The family he'd never had as a child. If her
body failed her this time, she didn't know if she would be able to
bear it.

The timer dinged.

"Oh, David, would you--?"

He nodded, then stood up and walked into the
bathroom. She closed her eyes against the shattering of a dream.
Please,
she prayed.
Please, please....
She heard her
husband draw in a deep breath and then she heard nothing. An
anguished moan escaped her lips but then she looked up to see the
most beautiful sight on earth. David knelt in front of her, tears
streaming down his lean cheeks as he held out the plastic vial.

A black plus sign shimmered at the bottom...a
beautiful, glorious black plus!

They laughed and cried and held each other
close that morning, whispering words of love and joy that seemed to
shimmer in the air around them. She felt drunk with ecstasy, as if
some rare and wondrous nectar of the gods bubbled through her
veins, making her one with the universe and everyone in it.

He placed a gentle hand against her belly and
she laughed and covered his hand with hers. She had loved him as
long as she could remember. From the first moment, she'd known this
was the man she would grow old with, the man in whose arms she
wanted to die.

The man who would be the father of her
child.

#

No wonder Jill didn't want to go into the
pharmacy. There were ghosts in there. And not just any ghosts. He
wouldn't have minded Mrs. Adelson who had lived up the hill or Old
Man Martinson who died three years ago. Seeing them again would
have been okay. The ghosts he'd seen in the pharmacy were a
different kind, and they were a hell of a lot more dangerous.

He saw himself in that old drugstore and he
saw Jill. He saw them as they'd been back at the beginning, young
and poor and happy. He saw them picking up the Sunday paper and
choosing anniversary cards. He saw them buying home pregnancy tests
the way other people bought lottery tickets praying the day would
come when they finally hit the jackpot.

"Surprised to see you," Don the pharmacist
said from behind the counter. "Thought you were on your way to the
City by the Bay."

"I leave tonight," he said.

"Sorry to hear you're still going. I feel
like I watched you and Jill grow up. Never thought it would come to
this."

"Neither did I," David said.

"You got yourself another woman?"

He shook his head. "Jill's a tough act to
follow."

"So what's the problem? You love her. She
loves you. Seems to me that's the ticket to a happy ending."

"She loves me?" His tone was laced with
hopeful skepticism. "What makes you think she still loves me?"

"Not my place to tell you," Don said. "You
need to figure that out for yourself."

"I've been trying to figure it out for the
last eight months," he said, "and the only thing I know for sure is
that she wants a divorce."

"Maybe she does," Don said slowly, "and maybe
she doesn't."

"Great," David said. "Now you're talking in
riddles."

"I've been around a long time," the
pharmacist said, "and I've learned a lot about people standing
behind this counter. All I can tell you for sure is that the two of
you still love each other. That has to mean something."

David's heart was beating on the outside of
his chest. "Do you really think she still loves me?

Don tossed him a sprig of mistletoe. "If you
really want to know, why don't you ask her?"

He had argued, debated, shut up, shut down
and everything in between but the one thing he had never done was
ask if she still loved him.

"Ask her," David said, clutching the
mistletoe. "I'm going to ask her."

He bolted for the door.

"Hey!" the pharmacist called out. "Didn't you
want something?"

"My wife," he said as he hit the street. He
wanted her love, her friendship, her company. He was going to take
her in his arms and ask her if she loved him and if he didn't like
her answer first time around, he was going to kiss her soundly and
ask her again.

The whole town couldn't be wrong. He and Jill
belonged together. They had belonged since their first phone
conversation, their first car ride, their first kiss. And he wasn't
going to just ask her if she loved him, he was going to tell her
how he felt, tell her all the things he hadn't told her for too
damn long--that he loved her and needed her and that there had to
be some way to put it all back together again.

She wasn't in front of the store where he'd
left her.

He looked up one side of the street then down
the other.

She wasn't anywhere.

"Damn it, Jill!" He dragged a hand through
his hair. "Where are you?"

First his cat and now his wife. He was
beginning to see a pattern taking shape. He still had the car keys
so she couldn't have gone far. Maybe she'd spotted Sebastian and
had gone off in pursuit. He noticed Ted Weinstein watching him from
the bakery window and he darted into the shop.

"Have you seen Jill?"

"Son of a gun," said Ted, grabbing his hand
and shaking it. "It's true. You two are back together."