The Nine Lives of Christmas (18 page)

How about a kiss?
“Great,” he called.

She had everything collected in a few minutes and soon Zach was standing in the doorway loaded up with cat litter, a cat box, and a bag filled with toys and cans of cat food, with nothing left to say. Well, he could think of things to say, none of them wise.

Good-bye. Say good-bye
.

Merilee looked gratefully up at him. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, and then she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

The next thing he knew the cat paraphernalia was falling to the floor and he was drawing Merilee to him and making sure her lips connected with his this time around. She was soft and sexy and she smelled good and … what was he doing? He broke the kiss and put her firmly away from him.

She stood staring at him, her eyes wide.

“Sorry, that was out of line,” he muttered.

“No, it wasn’t.” She grabbed his arms and pulled him back to her and latched onto his lips.

How could a man be rude and step away when a woman wanted him? Zach gave in to temptation and kissed her back and his greedy hands started a sneaky exploration of her curves. She moaned and the scouting party grew bolder.

And then, some rotten spoilsport voice at the back of his head demanded, “What do you think you’re doing? This isn’t some good-timing bimbo. This is a nice girl. If you’re not going to go all the way to the altar back off.”

Of course, the little voice was right. Zach pulled away.

She looked at him, confused. “Zach?”

“That was a bad idea.”

“I didn’t think so,” she said softly.

“Well, it was,” he assured her, and knelt to pick up the things he’d dropped.

She knelt, too. “Zach, what you said the other night, is that the only reason you don’t want to be with me? I mean, it isn’t … is there something wrong with me?” she finished in a small voice.

“No. Oh, God, no.” How could he explain heart failure to someone with a perfect family and a perfect life, someone who was loved and obviously had no trouble giving love? He stood up, fumbling with everything and grabbing for the door handle. “Look, I’ve got to go. Uh, merry Christmas,” he added stupidly, and backed out the door.

He left the apartment at a brisk pace and was practically running by the time he got to the parking lot. Once he reached the Land Rover he put the collection of cat goodies into the back and then fell in behind the steering wheel and let out a long breath.

Queenie meowed, reminding him that he had one more female to get rid of.

The sooner the better, he told himself.

*   *   *

Merilee collapsed on her couch and gave the cushion a furious slap. This wasn’t right. How could a man kiss a woman with such passion and then run away? And not just any man, the perfect man. It wasn’t right. It was so … un-Christmas.

A knock on the door brought her up and instantly off the couch. He’d come back. She knew he would! Dashing away her tears, she ran to the door and yanked it open.

There stood Mrs. Winnamucker, her lips pursed into a prim smile. “I just stopped by to see if you’d found…” She stopped mid-sentence, taking in Merilee’s tear-stained face and unhappy expression. “Oh, my dear, are you all right?”

“Yes, I found a home for the cat,” Merilee snapped. “And no, I’m not. Merry Christmas,” she added, and shut the door in Mrs. Winnamucker’s face.

*   *   *

The aroma of chocolate and cinnamon tickled Zach’s taste buds the minute he walked through the front door of his mother’s house. It smelled like Mom and the Steps had been busy baking. The aroma triggered memories from his early childhood, back when he’d had a mother and a father in the same house and his life had been cocooned inside a false sense of security. Mom had always made cookies for Santa and then let Zach and David consume most of them.

That was another woman, another time.

This woman still looked like a stranger to him. Her brown hair was salted with gray and she’d gained a few pounds over the years. She was still a good-looking woman, though. Today she looked put-together in a simple black sweater and jeans. Looking at her, Zach thought of Martha Stewart (only without the ankle monitor).

“Thanks for stopping by,” she greeted him. “Now it finally feels like Christmas.” She kissed him on the cheek and gave him a hug.

He gave her a shadow of a hug in return, then broke away. The disappointment in her eyes made him feel guilty.

Except he had nothing to feel guilty about. He hadn’t abandoned anyone. Anyway, he was here. That should be enough for her. He held up the cat carrier. “I brought a present for the girls.”

She followed his lead, stepping away from the awkward moment and peering into the carrier. “Well, aren’t you cute,” she cooed.

“Think they’ll like her?”

“Absolutely.” Mom went to the foot of the stairs and called, “Kendra, Natalie, your brother’s here.”

It was only a matter of seconds before he heard feet rushing along the upstairs hall. Then Natalie was running down the stairs, blond hair flying. “Zachie!”

Behind her came Kendra, the oldest, her pace a little slower, but her smile just as big. “About time you came by,” she said when she took her turn to hug him.

“Just dropping off your Christmas present,” he said.

“I guess that means you have to work tomorrow,” said Kendra, her voice full of disapproval.

“Afraid so.” He bent to take Queenie from her cat carrier.

“Oh, my gosh, a kitty!” squealed Natalie, taking the cat from him and snuggling her close. “I always wanted a cat. You are such a smart brother,” she added, beaming up at him.

That was him, Mr. Smart. “Her name’s Queenie.”

“She’s adorable,” said Kendra, running a hand along Queenie’s head. “Thanks.”

“Queenie. That’s so cute,” said Natalie. “Queen of the house. Queen of our hearts.”

Gag me,
thought Zach. Still, he was pleased that his present was a hit. Merilee would be glad to hear it.

Never mind Merilee. She is out of the picture
.

But not out of his thoughts, where she was firmly camped out wearing that Santa hat.

He dragged his mind back to the moment at hand. “You’ve got to keep an eye on this cat,” he warned. “She likes to try and go outside.”

“Well, then, maybe we should let her,” said Mom, as the girls danced over to the living room couch with the new baby.

Zach watched as Natalie pulled out her cell phone to snap a picture. “No. She’d get hurt out there. Anyway, outside cats can pick up diseases.”

His mother cocked an eyebrow. “You’re becoming quite an animal expert these days. Where did you get all this information, anyway?”

“From a friend.” The minute the words were out of his mouth he knew he’d made a mistake. His mother’s radar had picked up something.

“What kind of friend?”

Zach shrugged. “Just a friend.”

“As in nobody we get to ask about,” Kendra translated with a cocked eyebrow of her own.

“As in, go play with your cat,” he retorted and she stuck her tongue out at him.

“I’ve got your gift in the kitchen,” said Mom, starting to lead the way through the living room.

Zach balked. “I should get going.”

“Just stay a few minutes,” she urged. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

Zach gave up. She’d managed to give him a few good years. He could give her a few minutes.

In the kitchen he saw the plate of cookies wrapped in red cellophane sitting on the oak table and his mouth watered like he was one of Pavlov’s dogs. There were the chocolate balls she used to make, the frosted Christmas trees, and the gingerbread boys.

She caught him looking at it and said, “Yes, those are for you.”

He nodded, his neck stiff with embarrassment.

“Sit down,” she said, and he perched on the edge of a chair. “I’m so glad you could come by.”

He couldn’t think of anything to say to that, at least nothing that would ring true, so he simply nodded again.

She poured him a mug of coffee and set it in front of him, then nudged the sugar bowl his direction. “Sugar?” She bit her lip and shook her head. “I don’t even know what you take in your coffee. How pathetic is that?”

“Pretty pathetic,” he informed her. Just like her mothering skills.

Amazingly, she seemed to have done okay by the Steps. He took a sip of coffee. Bitter.

She sat across the table from him now, picking at a perfectly manicured fingernail. “You know my biggest regret?”

“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.” Now he sounded snotty, just like he had when she’d first asked him what he thought of Al, like he’d sounded after she’d informed him she was leaving and he and David were staying behind with Dad. He frowned.

She sighed deeply. “My biggest regret is that I didn’t make you come with me when we moved.”

“Make me? You never even gave me the option. Shit, Mom, are we doing revisionist history here?”

“Zach,” she began.

He held up a hand. “Let’s not go there.”

“I think we need to.”

“I don’t need to,” he said, pushing away from the table.

“Zach, wait,” she pleaded. “I want you to know, I didn’t want to leave you and David.”

Okay, enough
. “But you did.” He stood up. He felt like he was towering over her.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t want to uproot you and take you away from your friends.”

So she’d just made his decision for him. “Well, that explains everything, like why we hardly heard from you all those years.”

“I…” She hung her head.

Yeah. You
. That about summed it up. Zach left the kitchen just as Kendra was coming in. “Are you leaving already?”

“I’ve got to go,” he said. Before he really let Mom have it.

“But you just got here,” Kendra protested, trailing after him.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

They were in the living room again now. Natalie sprang from the couch, Queenie draped over her shoulder. “You can’t leave yet, Zachie,” she protested.

“Sorry,” he said tersely.

“Where are your cookies? You forgot your cookies,” Natalie said.

Zach shook his head and kept walking. “Thanks anyway. I’m not hungry.” In fact, he felt like he was going to puke.

A visit to the gym didn’t help him feel any better. Neither did grabbing a burger on the way home. Once he was back inside his house, he pulled a Coke out of the fridge and then went into the living room, determined to leave behind all thoughts of his messed-up past. He flopped onto the couch and grabbed the TV remote. Tom appeared out of nowhere and jumped onto his lap. “Hey, buddy,” he said, and patted the cat. “It’s just us guys tonight. No women. Who needs ’em?”

The cat stopped purring and twitched his tail.

“Trust me. You’re better off on your own,” Zach said, and aimed the remote at the TV. But in all of Cable Land he found nothing to grab his attention. Nothing in his Netflix queue interested him either. He switched off the TV and tossed the remote aside. He looked at Tom and Tom looked right back, his tail whipping back and forth.

“Yeah, I know. Can’t live with ’em. Can’t live without ’em. But we’re going to, dude.”

The determined affirmation sent him to the kitchen in search of beer. Then he returned to the living room and picked up the book he’d ordered from Amazon,
The Handyman Handbook,
and dove in.

CHAPTER ONE: TOOLS EVERY MAN NEEDS.

Never mind tools. What every man needs is a good woman’s love.

Okay, that was enough sitting on the couch. He needed to do something, like take an inventory of what he had.

He already owned a lot of the basics: hammers and screwdrivers, wrenches, pliers, and a skill saw. But some of the items mentioned in the book, like a miter box, staple gun, grinder, and C-clamps, he still needed.

Wait a minute. Didn’t he have C-clamps in that old toolbox Dad had given him when he moved out? What else was in there? He couldn’t remember right off. Well, now was as good a time as any to find out.

He made his way to the second floor, Tom trotting up the stairs beside him. “What a man needs,” he informed the cat, “is to stay busy.” He pulled the chain that let down the ladder and climbed up into the attic with Tom still along for the ride.

Due to the steep pitch of the roof, Zach had to stoop until he got into the middle of the room. He looked around him and frowned. Chamber of Horrors II.

The attic of his childhood home, dubbed the Chamber of Horrors by his dad, had been a collection of everything imaginable, from birdcages that had outlasted the bird to childhood toys. One of the biggest messes in the attic had been the boxes of Christmas decorations which his mother had collected since the Mayflower landed. She would spend hours decorating the house each year, always in new colors and motifs. Every year Mom replenished her stock. Zach remembered Dad saying that he would sooner be dragged by the devil into hell than have to schlep any more Christmas stuff up to the attic. But the cache of holiday decorations continued to breed, right along with all the other household detritus—everything from winter boots to washers for the kitchen sink wound up in there, all in boxes, none of them labeled. It became a vortex, sucking in everything and anything.

Zach looked at the mess around him and shook his head. How did people manage to collect so much stuff so quickly? Over there by the far wall was the basketball hoop he’d taken when he moved out. He’d hauled that dumb thing from apartment to apartment. And now it was here even though he was planning on selling this place and moving to a condo. What did he think he was going to do with a basketball hoop in a condo?

That was just the beginning. He wove past the neglected markers of his life, wondering why he was keeping all this stuff. There were skis and poles and boots he hadn’t used in the last two years, his lacrosse stick and gloves from high school, boxes of textbooks he’d never read again, and Gram’s old rocking chair that he was going to get around to refinishing one of these years. There was the box of Christmas ornaments, souvenirs from happier times. Mom had left them behind for him along with a note that read, “For your first tree, when you have a family of your own.”