The Christmas Cat Part 13

"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 cus.h.i.+on. 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. "G.o.d bless your grandma, Garrison. And G.o.d 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. "G.o.d 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 grat.i.tude, 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?"

"Great." Garrison stood and shook his hand. "Looks like Muzzy is just fine."

David nodded. "Yep. No problems."

Garrison reached into his pocket for the envelope, handing it to David. "This is a thank-you from my grandmother-for taking in Muzzy."

"Huh?" David studied the envelope.

"Go ahead," Garrison encouraged. Reaching over to ruffle Jackson's curly hair, he added, "It's for both of you."

"No way." David held the check in the air. "Are you kidding me?"

Garrison shook his head.

"Wow." David stared at the check. "I'm stunned."

"Merry Christmas," Garrison said, turning to leave.

"So do you have plans for Christmas?" David asked suddenly.

"Well, I-"

"Dad is cooking turkey," Jackson said with enthusiasm. "Cara is coming too."

At the name Cara, Garrison froze. "I need to go see someone," he said awkwardly. "But thanks for the invite."

"Sure." David still looked shocked as he held the check in his hand. "And thanks for this."

Garrison gulped in the cold air outside, trying to forget what they'd just said . . . that Cara was spending Christmas with them. Well, of course, she was. Why shouldn't she? Without looking over toward the gingerbread house, he climbed back into the Pontiac. One last stop-and it was only a few blocks away-and then he could go home . . . to his lovely but lonely house.

15.

The Maxwells' place was easy to spot-even from a couple blocks away. With so many strings of lights on their house, Garrison hated to imagine their electric bill next month. Maybe this check would help. His plan was to get in and get out ASAP. The less interaction with Handsome Harry, the better. Just the thought of looking into those pale green eyes was unnerving. In and out-and then go home.

"h.e.l.lo?" A tall, sandy-haired woman answered the door. Behind her was the sound of jarring music, a video game that was turned too loud, and, in Garrison's opinion, total turmoil. "Can I help you?"

"Are you Mrs. Maxwell?" he asked, hoping that he'd come to the wrong house.

"Yes. Do I know you?"

He quickly introduced himself. "I'm the one who gave Harry to your husband a few weeks ago."

"Harry?" she said absently.

"A large Maine c.o.o.n cat," he said with growing concern. "About three weeks ago."

"Oh, you mean Snoop-Cat."

"Snoop-Cat?" Garrison was confused-and irritated.

"Well, his name was Harry when he got here," she said. "But TJ-that's my oldest-he decided to name him Snoop-Cat. Cute huh?"

Controlling himself, he made a stiff smile. "So, is he-is Snoop-Cat here?"

She gave him a puzzled look. "Sorry, he's not."

"He's not here?"

"No." She grimly shook her head. "Truth is we haven't seen him for-TJ," she yelled loudly, "when was the last time you saw Snoop-Cat?"

A preadolescent boy wearing braces came to the door, examining Garrison with a dull expression. "Huh?"

"Snoop-Cat. When did you last see him?"

"I dunno. Awhile back. Last week maybe."

"Last week?" Garrison felt a wave of panic. "Where did he go?"

"Who knows?" She tipped her head to the chaos going on behind her. "I can barely keep track of these kids-and then their friends come over-honestly, does this look like a house that could keep track of a cat?"

"So you have no idea where Harry went?" Garrison demanded.

The woman rolled her eyes. "G.o.d only knows why Tom thought we needed a cat. I thought he'd lost his mind."

"Dad got us the cat to get the money," TJ told her. "Remember?"