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?”
“Bird feet!” she wailed, pointing at the bed.
Zach looked confused. “What?”
“Bird feet, bird feet, BIRD FEET!” She started running toward the door, probably with murder in her heart.
Ambrose didn’t wait to see what happened next. He dashed out of the room and down the stairs.
And, oh no! Here came the cougar thumping along right behind him, still howling, feathers flying from the scanty bit of black cloth she was wearing. It was like being chased by that huge black dog all over again. Driven by terror, Ambrose did what any good cat in need of safety would do. He scaled the nearest tree.
What had he been thinking, climbing a Christmas tree! Did he have a death wish? Christmas trees were death traps. It had been a sizzling jolt from something on a Christmas tree that cost him his first life. Oh, not good. Not good at all. The thing tottered and swayed, its decorations jingling. He couldn’t stay here.
He took what humans called a leap of faith, launching himself from the dangerous tree before it could fall. The tree went one way and Ambrose sailed another. He landed right on the cougar, who let out a screech and sent him flying again even as the tree toppled with a crunch of ornaments.
Ambrose managed to land on his feet and bolted for the safety of the couch. Even as he squeezed under it the cougar was screaming all kinds of words he knew weren’t nice. And Zach was next to her now, trying to make himself heard over the racket she was making.
“Either that cat goes or I go,” she roared, pointing to where Ambrose cowered under the couch.
“Babe, just calm down, okay? Did he get you with his claws?”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What do you mean calm down! Your damn cat just tried to attack me. If I hadn’t reacted so fast I’d be covered in scratches!”
“I think you’re just shaken up. Let’s just calm down and—”
“Never mind calming down,” she roared. “I want an answer.”
Ambrose held his breath.
“Blair, I can’t just turn the little guy out.”
She pointed a finger at him. “You are choosing the cat over me! Zachary Stone, you are insane. And I must have been insane to get involved with you. You’re nothing but a selfish, immature—”
“Now, wait a minute,” Zach protested. “I get that you’re upset but there’s no need to start throwing around insults.”
“I am not staying here another second with you and that … beast!” She opened a door to the closet where Zach kept coats and yanked hers out. “You two deserve each other,” she snarled as she wrapped it around herself.
“If that’s the way you want it, fine,” Zach snapped. “I’ll bring your tree back this afternoon.”
Ambrose blinked as she told Zach to put the tree in a part of his anatomy where Ambrose knew it surely wouldn’t fit.
“Keep the tree and the damned cat. I hope you’ll be very happy together,” she snapped. She grabbed some keys from the hall table and then exited, slamming the door after herself.
Zach glared at the door as if Blair Baby were still standing there. Then he muttered a very bad word and marched into the living room and grabbed the tree. He hauled it to the front door, sending little blue balls bouncing every which way.
Ambrose was strongly tempted to chase one as it bobbled past, but considering Zach’s mood, decided it was wiser to remain under the couch.
Zach opened the door and hurled the tree out into the cold, then slammed the door shut. “I never wanted a friggin’ tree anyway,” he growled.
Well, well. It looked like Ambrose had succeeded in saving Zach. This was an even better gift than the bird feet.
He watched as Zach cleaned up after the cougar. The first thing Zach did was gather the stray ornaments into a plastic bag. Then the bag followed the tree out the front door. Next he tossed Ambrose’s present in the can in the eating room where humans threw food that was still perfectly good. If Ambrose had the muscles for it he would have frowned. What ingratitude! Finally, Blair Baby’s clothes went into another plastic bag. Zach put them into the shiny black car along with the ruined tree and the ornaments. Then he drove off. Where he took everything Ambrose had no idea, but the cougar didn’t return and that was all Ambrose cared about.
Except Zach seemed restless. When he returned home he banged things with his hammer and growled bad words. At night he flipped from program to program on the TV, always changing channels just when Ambrose was getting interested. Did he miss the cougar?
“Nah,” he said as he talked on his cell phone to his friend Ray. “It’s just as well. Things were getting, I don’t know, weird. It was only a matter of time before she left for good anyway. I should probably keep away from women.”
His friend laughed so hard Ambrose could hear it all the way up where he sat on the back of the couch, watching Zach pace while he talked.
“No, I mean it,” said Zach. “I’m fine on my own.”
Fine? He wasn’t acting like it. Ambrose knew what was wrong with Zach. He knew the symptoms well. He’d experienced them himself when he was an alley cat. He understood the crazy, driving itch that made a guy restless, made him want to sit on a fence and yowl, made him fight anything and anyone to get to a female cat. Zach was getting the itch. People, like cats, needed to connect with another living being. In fact, people needed that a lot more than cats. Most of them didn’t seem designed to function well alone. Zach could say all he wanted to the contrary, but he was no exception. He needed a female in his life.
Not the cougar, obviously. But Merilee would be perfect, for Zach (and Ambrose). If he could bring Merilee and Zach together it would more than pay them back for their kindness to him in past lives. It would also guarantee all three of them a wonderful life now. Yes, that was the answer, which meant Ambrose needed to get Zach back to the Pet Palace.
But how? He hunkered down to think.