The Nine Lives of Christmas Read online

  Who was she kidding? She was never going to look in the mirror and see a pretty girl. Old high school wounds had produced scars that had left Merilee blind to her good features. Even now, though her family assured her she was indeed pretty, she groped unsuccessfully for a positive self-image.

  She shoved the makeup back in the drawer, and then grabbed cat treats from her kitchen cupboard. Then she hurried back outside to meet Zach. Okay, so she wasn’t the most beautiful girl on the block, and maybe cat whispering wasn’t on a par with looking like Heidi Klum, but right now it was what Zach needed. And having something he needed … well, it was a beginning.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, as she climbed into his SUV.

  Unlike hers, this vehicle was in mint condition and still had its new-car smell. She’d once bought an air freshener that produced the same fragrance, but the contrast between the smell and the appearance of her car had been enough to confirm what she already knew: new-car air freshener scent does not a new car make. Next time around she bought a vanilla air freshener.

  “No problem,” he said. “Thanks for dropping everything to help me.”

  Like she’d had anything to drop. She wisely kept this information to herself. “I’m happy to help. I love cats.” Woman who lived alone and loved cats—did she sound like some sort of cliché? Well, if she did, too bad. There was nothing wrong with loving cats. And there was certainly nothing wrong with living alone. It showed independence. So there.

  Zach shook his head. “I can’t figure out what his problem is.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Merilee assured him. Together. There was nothing wrong with togetherness, either. Just this small dose of it, sitting within reaching distance of this hunky man was sending a buzz running through her.

  They turned onto Lavender Lane. Merilee took in all the cozy houses, most with their holiday lights already on, and was seized with a sudden wanting. These so reminded her of her parents’ house one town over—cozy and inviting, places where people could love and laugh and grow a family. Oh, that Tudor was cute. She could easily picture herself in it. And look at the pretty blue Victorian up ahead.

  She was surprised when they turned into the driveway. “This is yours?” A gorgeous man paired with a blue Victorian? Talk about perfect.

  “For a while,” he said. “I’m rehabbing it. Keeps me busy when I’m not at the station. I’m going to put it up for sale come spring.”

  “It’s lovely,” she said wistfully. “I don’t know how you could stand to part with it.”

  “Well, it’s not much of a guy house. It’ll be great for a family, though.”

  Yes, it would.

  The inside was as charming as the outside. Merilee took in the staircase and its railing with the newel posts, the hardwood floors, and the etched glass window over the front door and experienced instant house lust. “This is so cool.” And how lovely it would look all dressed up for the holidays!

  “It’s getting there. I just finished the kitchen. Come on, I’ll show you. Maybe Tom’s food dish will be empty,” Zach added as he led the way down the hall.

  The kitchen was gorgeous—buttercream wood cabinets with glass fronts, granite countertops, a hardwood floor, and an overhead light fixture made out of some sort of old-fashioned glass. “It’s lovely,” she said.

  “Oh, man, it’s still there,” muttered Zach from behind her.

  She turned and saw him frowning at a dish full of untouched food.

  “He’s going to starve to death.”

  A big man worried over his small cat—Merilee’s heart was going to melt into a puddle right there on the kitchen floor. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t,” she said, determined to make everything right.

  He dumped the contents of the dish in the garbage. “Tom, where are you? Damn it, come on out.”

  He was about to stalk out of the kitchen when Merilee caught his arm. “Let’s try something else.” She gave the box of cat treats she was holding a shake.

  “He’s probably hiding upstairs. He won’t hear that,” Zach predicted.

  “Maybe,” said Merilee, and shook the box again.

  A moment later the orange cat trotted into the kitchen. Without hesitation he walked over to Merilee and rubbed against her leg.

  “I guess he wasn’t so far away after all,” Zach said, and scratched his head, obviously puzzled.

  Merilee bent and petted the cat, and in return he rubbed his head against her palm. “What do you mean by worrying poor Zach like this, you naughty boy?” She shook out a treat and offered it to him. He snapped it up and snarfed it down. Then he gave her hand a head butt. “Oh, no,” she said, standing up. “No more treats until you eat your food.” She turned to Zach. “Let’s get a fresh bowl and try again. Only this time, just give him half the can.”

  “Okay,” Zach said dubiously. “But I doubt he’ll eat it. I’ve wasted two cans on him so far.”

  “We’ll see,” said Merilee. Whatever had been bothering the cat, he was fine now and purring as she petted him. She’d purr too if she lived in this lovely house with this kindhearted man.

  He set a fresh bowl with half a serving of food on the floor and Tom hurried to it as if it were his last meal, then hunkered down and dug in.

  Zach shook his head and let out a snort of disgust. “What is your problem, dude?”

  “Cats can be sensitive to changes in their environments,” Merilee said. “Have you had any changes recently?”

  “Nothing other than breaking up with Blair, but since she didn’t like old Tom I don’t think he was too upset. And neither was I,” he added.

  Merilee bit back a smile. She may have lost her job but the Pet Palace princess lost her man. Now Merilee was here with him instead. There was justice in the world. “Well, he seems to be fine now,” she said, keeping her ungracious thoughts to herself.

  “Thanks to you,” said Zach. “You know, you’ve really got the touch with animals. Have you ever thought of becoming a vet?”

  Only since she was ten. “I’m working in that direction. I had to stop school for a while until I could save up more money.” Did that make her sound like a loser? Lots of people talked about going back to school, writing a book, becoming a doctor, whatever, and then never followed through. But surely she wouldn’t become one of those people.

  Zach leaned against the kitchen counter. “I bet you could get a student loan.”

  “I did get a small one. Then I tried to pay as I went. I guess the money went faster than I did,” she added with a fatalistic shrug. Now she did sound like a loser. She could feel her cheeks heating up.

  “No family to help?” he asked. Then he added, “Sorry, more stuff that’s none of my business.”

  And yet he was asking. Men didn’t want to know those kinds of things unless they were interested in a girl, did they? “I don’t feel right asking my family. They’re great but they all have their own bills to pay. Anyway, my parents paid for college. I figured that was enough.”

  He nodded slowly, taking in the information. “Pretty noble.”

  “Hardly. Risking your life to put out fires, that’s noble.”

  “We don’t have that many fires around here,” he said, shrugging off her compliment. “Hey, I owe you some money. Let me grab my checkbook.”

  “You really don’t need to,” she said.

  “I’m paying,” he insisted, “and that’s that. And then we’re celebrating Tom’s recovery. I’ll send out for pizza before Little Lola’s wimps out and closes,” he added, and strode out of the room before she could protest. As if she would object to spending more time with him.

  The cat was finished eating now and sat licking a paw. “I don’t know what your problem was,” she whispered to him, “but thanks.”

  He stopped his grooming and regarded her for a moment, almost as if he understood. Then he trotted over to her.

  She got the message and picked him up. “Funny, isn’t it, how we always think you know what we�
��re saying?”

  Zach returned a moment later with his checkbook. He wrote her a check, then ignored her protests that he’d paid her way too much and got busy calling Little Lola’s. It was a short-lived call. “They’re closed due to the snow,” he announced with a frown. “People around here are such wusses.”

  “That’s okay,” Merilee said, hiding her disappointment behind her perkiest voice. “You can just take me home.”

  “Oh, no. Not until I’ve fed you.” He opened the fridge and leaned in to investigate.

  She peeked over his shoulder and saw a couple of bottles of beer, eggs, a carton of Chinese takeout, several jars of condiments in the door, and cheese and some bologna in a drawer—not much.

  “Hmmm,” he said.

  “Well, I do see eggs and cheese,” said Merilee. “I can make omelets.”

  “So can I,” he said, and pulled out the carton of eggs. “You sit down and relax and I’ll cook.”

  That sounded good to Merilee. She sat petting the cat and watched as Zach worked. He seemed at home in the kitchen. Heck, he seemed at home in his own skin. With a body like that, no wonder.

  “Here you go. We can pretend it’s pizza,” he said, setting a plate in front of her.

  It wasn’t a fancy omelet—just eggs and cheese and some onion he’d found and chopped and sautéed. Still, sitting at Zach’s cozy kitchen table, enjoying it and sipping instant hot cocoa was as satisfying as dining at a fine restaurant.

  “You’re pretty good in the kitchen,” she said.

  He shrugged off her compliment. “We take turns cooking at the station,” he said. “I can make all kinds of stuff.”

  “You’ll make some lucky woman a great wife,” she teased. Now why had she said that? Fresh warmth crept into her cheeks.

  His looked a little sunburned, too. “I’m not much of a commitment guy.”

  Now her face was on fire. “I didn’t mean…” she began.

  “Oh, I know,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean—that is, uh, it’s a gamble,” he finished lamely.

  She nodded. “You’re right.”

  An uncomfortable silence drifted into the cozy kitchen and spread big black wings over them as they finished their omelets. At last Merilee managed a chipper, “That was great. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he said, taking her plate.

  She studied him as he put their plates in the dishwasher. The sinews in his arms, the wide shoulders, the long legs that looked like they could leap buildings in a single bound—everything about him said strength and confidence. Only at the mere mention of marriage he’d reacted like an elephant in a room full of mice. Merilee had once read that elephants feared mice for a very real reason: if one ran up its trunk the elephant wouldn’t be able to breathe. Hmmm.

  “You know, I’d love to see the rest of the house,” she said. Now, that was bold. Her sisters would have been proud.

  “Sure,” he said, and she could hear in his voice that he was relieved she had turned them away from the dangerous topic of marriage.

  He started by leading her upstairs. The cat accompanied them, as if equally interested in inspecting the improvements Zach had made.

  The house was all charm—interesting slopes, cubbyholes, and balconies, crown molding and bead board. “I finished the master suite in August,” he said, leading her into what was obviously his bedroom. She took in the king-sized bed with its rumpled, brown comforter and felt a fresh sizzle on her cheeks.

  “Uh, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, kicking a pair of blue boxers under the bed.

  As he threw the comforter up over the rumpled sheets Merilee flashed on an image of two bodies happily putting them in that condition. The female one looked suspiciously like her. “It’s very big. Your bed.” Oh, Lord.

  “It gets the job done,” he said with a grin, and led the way down the hall.

  They stopped by a second room, which was doubling as an office, and then checked out the guest room. This one appeared to be freshly painted. Robin’s egg blue, lovely. It held an antique dresser with an oval mirror and a brass bed covered with a quilt done in fabrics predominantly blue.

  “The furniture was my grandma’s,” he said.

  Merilee stepped over to the bed for a closer inspection of the quilt. A star pattern, hand stitched. “Did your grandma make this?”

  “Yeah. She made one for both of us kids.”

  “I bet she loves this house.”

  “She would’ve,” he said. “She died three years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She always hated hearing that people had lost loved ones.

  “I miss her,” Zach said simply. “She was a big part of my life when I was a kid. We visited her and my granddad every summer. I never saw her just sitting, you know. She always had something going on and she was always making something for someone.”

  “Sounds like she was a wonderful person,” said Merilee. And it sounded like Zach had the perfect family growing up. Wouldn’t he want to replicate it?

  “She was great,” he said. “Live life to the fullest, that was her motto.”

  “Good advice,” said Merilee. Advice she should take.

  “Gram practiced what she preached, too. She was taking an Alaskan cruise when she died. Stroked out at the sight of the Mendenhall Glacier. Not a bad way to go,” Zach finished as they went back downstairs. “So, here’s the dining room. Living room over here.”

  Merilee walked past him into the living room. “This is great. It would look really awesome if you painted one wall a dusty rose.”

  He nodded thoughtfully.

  “And I could see a Christmas tree in the bay window.”

  For some reason the suggestion made him squirm. He twisted his neck like he had a sudden crick in it.

  Maybe he wasn’t catching the vision. Merilee continued, “Not a fake tree; a big, fat one you go out and cut yourself and then load up with lots of old-fashioned ornaments. You know, like the Griswold family tree in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”

  He smiled. “That movie rocks.”

  “I love it, too,” said Merilee. “Especially the part where the squirrel jumps out of the tree.”

  He gave a snort. “Oh, yeah, and the gift box with the cat in it. Sorry, Tom. Nothing personal,” he added, and picked up the cat, stopping it from circling his legs.

  This man proudly displayed his grandmother’s quilt, took in stray cats, tried to help women who had been unjustly fired. With such a big heart, why was he so afraid of sharing his life with someone? Of course, she barely knew him so it would be rude to ask. She wished she could, though.

  Instead, she said, “I love the window seat. My grandma in Oregon has an old house with a window seat. When we were little she stored all kinds of games in it for us to play when we visited: Monopoly, Aggravation, Clue.”

  “Oh, man, I remember playing Clue with my brother and the neighbors’ kid,” said Zach, shaking his head and smiling. “I always won.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Yeah? Nobody beats me,” he teased.

  “Guess you’ve never met your match. Until now,” she retorted. Merilee White, are you flirting? Who knew you had it in you!

  “Yeah, well, we may have to see about that. I bet my mom still has the game somewhere.”

  “Let me know if you find it. If you’re brave enough.”

  That made him chuckle.

  Flirting was fun. And empowering. Merilee grinned, pleased with herself.

  Until she realized she had run out of things to say.

  Actually, she had a lot to say. Why are you afraid of commitment? Want company in that big bed? Let’s go get a Griswold Christmas tree and see how it looks in your bay window. None of those were appropriate. There was nothing more to say about Tom the cat, either, since he appeared to be over his eating disorder.

  It was probably time to go home. Had Cinderella gotten hit with this same wave of disappointment when the clock struck midnight?

  “I guess
my work here is done,” Merilee said, keeping her voice light. Maybe Zach would suggest she stay a little longer. Maybe he’d say he had a copy of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

  He didn’t. Instead, he nodded and set the cat down. “Okay. I’ll run you home.”

  Would he have been so quick to run either of her sisters home? Of course not, and maybe Zach would be asking her to hang around if she’d tried harder to be more like them. Why hadn’t she gotten to the mall and bought some hot new clothes and makeup?

  Why did she think that would make a difference? Sigh.

  Back outside the snow was still at work, laying an ever-thickening carpet on the ground. The falling flakes made the festive lights on the surrounding houses look blurry and soft, like a Thomas Kinkade painting. Merilee stopped a moment to take it all in. “This is such a lovely season,” she murmured. “Sometimes I wish it could be Christmas all year long.”

  “Once a year is more than enough,” said Zach, crunching past her.

  What a sad thing to say! “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like Christmas,” she mused as they drove home. Oh, no. Had she just said that out loud? Way to go, stupid.

  “It’s just the family thing gets a little too much, you know.”

  No, she didn’t know. She loved spending the holidays with her family. Her brothers always made a special trip out to join the others, and they all packed the house from floor to attic. On Christmas Eve her mother made a huge turkey with all the trimmings, which they washed down with fruit punch. Later they’d consume copious amounts of Christmas cookies (never good for the diet, but Merilee intended to splurge this year anyway) and after dinner her sister Gloria would play the piano and they’d sing carols. Then they’d all go to the candlelight service and sing more carols. On Christmas morning they ate cranberry pancakes and opened presents. Someone always slipped a game of some sort under the tree, which they then spent the afternoon playing while stuffing themselves with turkey sandwiches and leftover dressing. What was not to like about Christmas?