The Christmas Cat (13 page)

The last one on his list was Viola, although he knew there was really no reason to check on that cat. She was perfectly happy with Ruby. However, he wanted a second chance to make things right with one of Gram’s dearest friends—a woman who’d been like an aunt to him. But before he knocked on her back door, he made one last check on the house and put his bags into the back of the Pontiac. His plan was to be on the road by two.

Ruby scowled darkly as she let him into her kitchen. “I s’pose you’re here to check on Viola,” she said in a grumpy voice. “As if I don’t know how to take care of my own cat by now.”

“I had no doubts about that,” he assured her. “I was more interested in seeing you. I’m sorry to find you in such bad spirits. Are you still mad at me?”

She rolled her eyes. “The world does not turn around you, Garrison Brown.”

He blinked. “No, I didn’t think it did.”

“If you must know, I’m out of sorts over Elliott.”

“Elliott? What’s he done?”

“He’s done left.”

“Left?”

“That’s right. Took off in the middle of the night. Not so much as a fare-thee-well from that ungrateful boy’s lips.”

“Ruby . . . I’m sorry.” He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, Garrison.” She broke into sobs and he wrapped his arms around her. “I had such hopes for that boy. Seemed like he was really connecting with you.”

“I’m sorry, Ruby.” His voice choked. “I feel this is partly my fault.”

She stepped back, fishing a tissue from her sleeve and wiping her nose. “No, no, that’s not fair. I’m not blaming you for my grandson’s bad choices.” She looked intently into his eyes. “You are only responsible for your own bad choices, boy.”

He nodded glumly. “That’s true.”

“You see to it that you don’t make any more bad choices—you hear Ruby now?”

“Yes. I hear.” He kissed her cheek. “And you and Viola take care. I’ll see you at Christmas.”

She brightened a little. “Oh yeah, that’s right—you bringing me my million dollars to go with that cat, right?” She laughed like she knew that was never happening.

“I wish I could do that,” he told her. “I’m sure you’d put it to good use.”

Her chin bobbed up and down with strength. “You got that right. First of all I’d buy that house next door and turn it into a halfway house.”

He grinned. “I’ll bet you would.”

As they hugged again, he promised to pray for Elliott and she promised to fix him another chicken pot pie the next time he came home. And then he got into the Pontiac and headed north to Seattle.

T
here had been a time when Garrison had loved being in Seattle. The photogenic landscape of mountains and water and sky had never failed to energize him, and the beat of the city had always filled him with enthusiasm and high expectations. But something had changed . . . and he didn’t think it was Seattle.

To be fair, the grim, gray weather was not helping any. But Garrison tried to remain focused on his new job, his new boss, and the possibility of moving into a new apartment—when Gram’s house sold. According to Barb, it could happen any day now.

“My first open house was a huge success,” she’d told him shortly after he’d returned to Seattle. “I ran it on both Saturday and Sunday. And I had more than thirty people go through.”

“Thirty?”

“Well, certainly some of them were Looky-Lous and some were just your curious neighbors wanting to see what you’d done with the place. But there were at least two families who were seriously shopping for a home. And, oh my, you should see how fabulous Felicia has made your house look. You probably wouldn’t recognize it. I’ve got all the real estate agents in town coming through on Thursday. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got an offer even before Christmas.”

“Really?” He felt a mixture of anxiety and hope. On one hand, he wasn’t ready to let go . . . on the other hand he had no choice.

By the end of his second week back in Seattle, Garrison felt so blue that he wondered if he was coming down with something. Or maybe his malaria was flaring up. But his temperature registered normal. And besides feeling gloomy and weary, he had no real symptoms. Telling himself it was simply the cold, wet weather getting him down, he jogged through the company parking lot and jumped into the Pontiac. Within minutes he was headed down the freeway. His hope was to reach the Miller law firm before three o’clock to pick up the packet. He knew that Mr. Miller had been out of the office most of the week and that his assistant planned to close early. Garrison had promised to get there before she locked up.

As he drove south, he tried not to think of what kind of a Christmas he would have this year—certainly not a traditional one. But, to be fair, his past nine Christmases in Uganda had not been traditional either. Yet they had been sweet . . . and genuine . . . filled with good-hearted people.

He turned the radio on, tuning to a station that was playing nothing but Christmas songs, and before long he started
feeling cheery. After all, he was about to play Santa Claus in a very real sort of way. Handing out sizeable checks to some very decent folks—what could be better? He tried to imagine their surprised faces. Hopefully they’d be surprised. He remembered the million-dollar cat rumor that Ruby had mentioned. Surely no one had taken that seriously.

It was two-thirty when he pulled into the nearly empty parking lot in front of the law office. Pulling his trench coat over his head to block the rain, he ran up to the front door and, since it was locked, banged desperately on it. Surely the assistant hadn’t gone home already.

“Sorry,” she said as she let him into the foyer. “I’m supposed to lock the door when I’m the only one here.” She thrust a large white envelope toward him. “The checks and everything are in here.”

He thanked her and wished her Merry Christmas, then ran back out to his car. His plan was to go to Gram’s house first. He’d dump his stuff, nuke a microwave meal, then be off to play Santa. But when he drove up to Gram’s house, he almost didn’t recognize it. First of all, the house was decorated with strings of delicate white lights. And in the front window stood a tall tree, which was lit up as well. Flanking the front door, which had been painted a nice brick red, was a pair of small evergreen trees in shiny red pots. They too were strung with white lights. On the door was a large evergreen wreath with a big plaid bow. Even though he knew that the house was vacant, he couldn’t remember when it had ever looked this inviting. So inviting that he entered the house through the front door instead of the back.

Barb was right—he didn’t recognize the place. And yet he did. It was the house he’d left behind, only better. It looked
so good that he suddenly felt ill at ease, like he was a trespasser. Perhaps he shouldn’t be staying there. Just to be sure he called Barb, interrupting her from what sounded like a boisterous Christmas party. He quickly explained and she just laughed.

“Of course you can stay there, darling! It’s your house. And, just so you know, most of the agents will be enjoying a break for the next few days. So just make yourself at home and don’t worry about messing anything up. Felicia’s people will put it all back together. Just enjoy—and Merry Christmas!”

Feeling more relaxed, he dumped his bag in his room, which had also had a facelift. Everything looked amazing. And yet . . . something felt wrong. Something was missing. He glanced around the living room as he headed to the kitchen. Oh yeah . . . no cats. Of course, this simply reminded him of the mission that lay ahead. After putting away a Hungry Man meal, he opened the white envelope and discovered six big checks held together with a paper clip. “Here comes Santa Claus,” he said as he slipped them into the inside pocket of his trench coat. Then, feeling unexpectedly merry, he sang the rest of the verse as he crossed the two driveways, hurrying through what was turning into freezing rain, and knocked on Ruby’s back door.

“Come in, come in,” she called out. “Get yourself outta that cold.”

“Merry Christmas, Ruby!” He hugged her tightly.

She returned the greeting, beaming up at him. “I got good news for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Elliott came back.”

“He’s here?”

“Not right this minute. He just took off to the store for me. But I expect him back soon.” Her face lit up with a huge smile. “Thank you for praying for him. I know you did.”

He nodded, reaching into his pocket for the envelope he’d stuck in front. “I sure did. And now I have something for you. Merry Christmas, Ruby.”

She fingered the long white envelope with a twinkle in her eye.

“It’s not a million dollars,” he said quickly.

She laughed. “I didn’t think it was.”

“But it’s from my grandmother. It’s for adopting Viola.” He glanced around. “How is she?”

Ruby led him to her living room where she had a nice fire burning in the fireplace. “Queen Viola,” she proclaimed as she pointed to the beautiful gray cat curled up on a purple velvet cushion. Viola looked up at him with languid green eyes.

He chuckled. “She does look like a queen.”

Ruby was opening the envelope. He waited anxiously, hoping that she wouldn’t be disappointed. That whole million-dollar-cat story was irritating. But Ruby let out a shriek of delight. “What in tarnation!” She stared at him with big brown eyes. “Is this for real, Garrison Brown? Surely you wouldn’t jest with an old woman!”

“It’s for real. Merry Christmas. And thanks for taking such good care of Viola.”

She hugged him again. “God bless your grandma, Garrison. And God bless you!”

“Now I have some more deliveries to make.”

She looked shocked. “Every cat is getting a check?”

He pressed his forefinger to his lips. “Mum’s the word, okay?”

She nodded solemnly. He kissed her cheek and patted Viola’s head, then made a quick exit. Chuckling to himself, he got into the car. This wasn’t so bad!

Next stop was Beth and Annabelle’s house. Hopefully they were still home since Beth had mentioned a party they were invited to. He’d called ahead earlier in the week, careful not to tip his hand, but letting them know he would be in town and wanted to make his final visit today. To his relief they were both home and, after checking on Spooky, who seemed perfectly content, he presented them both with the check. The house was filled with squeals of happiness as mother and daughter hugged each other—and then him—dancing around like they’d won the lottery.

Annabelle had Spooky in her arms as he was leaving, gently stroking her. She spoke soothingly in an attempt to calm the cat, who’d been startled by the uproar.

“Merry Christmas,” he called out again. “God bless!”

As he got into the car, he realized that the freezing rain was turning into snow. If this kept up they might actually have a white Christmas. Or at least a whitish Christmas. With wipers running, and remembering how unpredictable the Pontiac could be on slick surfaces, he carefully turned the corner and drove down the street to Vincent’s house.

To Garrison’s surprise and relief, Vincent was not alone on Christmas Eve. “Come in, my friend,” Vincent said merrily. Dressed in a cheerful red vest, he nodded toward the living room where several people his age were visiting. “A few of my other friends are here.” He held up a small silver cup. “Can I interest you in some eggnog?”

“That sounds good.” Garrison slipped off his coat and shook off the snow. “Did you know it’s snowing outside?”

“Snow!” Vincent called out to his friends and they let out a cheer.

“How is Rusty?” Garrison asked.

“He’s the life of the party.” Vincent handed him a cup, nodding toward the living room where a gray-haired woman had the cat on her lap. “He’s eating it up.” Vincent chuckled. “And how are you? How is Seattle?”

Garrison forced a smile. “Okay.” He held out the envelope. “This is a little thank-you from my grandmother—for giving Rusty such a nice home.”

Vincent’s brows drew together. “What?”

“Open it.”

Vincent slowly opened the envelope and removed the check. With wide eyes, he looked at Garrison. “Is this for real?”

Garrison nodded. “Maybe it’ll help you with some of those household repairs you’ve been putting off.”

“Oh, my.” Vincent’s eyes were filled with tears. “I don’t know what to say.”

“How about
Merry Christmas
?” Garrison set his empty eggnog cup on the dining table and smiled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few more deliveries to make before we’re all snowed in.”

Vincent continued thanking him as he walked him to the door, finally insisting on embracing Garrison before he could leave. Warmed by the eggnog and the gratitude, Garrison proceeded on through the storm. Who knew Christmas could be this much fun? Next stop was Riley and Sabrina’s house. Riley answered the door, welcoming him into the house. “What a night, eh?”

“Yeah.” Garrison could see that the couple was all dressed up. “Looks like you two are going out?”

“A party at my sister’s,” Sabrina said with a frown. “Don’t get me wrong—I love my sister dearly.”

“It’s just that she’s got three kids under the age of four,” Riley explained. “It gets pretty loud.”

“Especially tonight.” Sabrina pointed to a couple of heaping bags by the door. They were filled with brightly wrapped gifts. “My family always opens on Christmas Eve. It’ll be a madhouse.”

“At least we can leave,” Riley reminded her.

She nodded with a relieved expression. “I know you want to check on Oreo.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Last I saw him he was playing with his jingle-bell mouse in the kitchen.” She called out, “Here, kitty-kitty,” and the black-and-white cat came running. “There’s my baby.” She bent down to scoop him up. “Mommy and Daddy won’t be gone long, sweetheart,” she cooed into his happy-looking face. “Be thankful we’re not taking you with us. Bentley would probably just jerk you by the tail.” She made an exasperated look. “My sister’s middle child is in his terrible twos.”

Garrison reached over to stroke Oreo’s head then reached into his coat pocket. “This is a little thank-you from my grandmother,” he told them as he handed it to Riley. “For giving Oreo such a good home.”

“What?” Sabrina’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t tell me that rumor about the million-dollar cat is true?”

Garrison laughed. “No. That is only a rumor. Sorry.” He nodded to Riley. “Go ahead and open it.”

“Ten thousand dollars?” Riley looked genuinely shocked. “Am I being punked?”

“No.” Garrison laughed harder. “This is real. Merry Christmas.”

“For taking in a cat?” Riley said. “For real?”

“Not just any cat,” Sabrina reminded him. “This is a very special cat.”

Riley grinned at her. “I’ll say. He is one very special cat.” He vigorously shook Garrison’s hand. “Thanks, bro!”

Garrison made his exit and then, bracing himself for the next stop, he drove toward David and Jackson’s house. The reason he was dreading this visit was because of Cara. He was determined not to look at her house. Just deliver the check and continue on his way. End of story.

Jackson answered the door. “Dad’s in the kitchen,” he said without too much discomfort.

“How about Muzzy?” Garrison asked. “Where’s she?”

“In here.” Jackson led Garrison into the living room where Muzzy was sitting beneath a tall, glittering Christmas tree. “She likes to whack the ornaments. I put the ones that break up high so she can’t reach.”

“Good for you.” Garrison kneeled down to pet Muzzy. “You’re still a gorgeous girl,” he said. She let out several loud meows as if to confirm this.

“Are you staying for Christmas?” Jackson asked.

“No. I just came to drop something by for your dad.”

“Garrison,” David exclaimed as he came into the living room. “How are you doing?”