“I still have tomorrow. I can run into town and pick some up then.”
“No, no. Don’t be silly. I have some in the car. I’ll just go get it. Just be sure Kringle doesn’t get into it—it’s poisonous for cats. I also have a toy out there that I forgot to bring in for him.”
Julie looked ruefully at the cat. He was spread out over the new snowflake-printed rug she’d laid out in front of the fireplace, batting around a toy mouse wearing a Santa hat that Ivy had brought. Her friend had brought a matching Santa hat for Kringle, but the cat had resolutely refused to wear it. Julie had to admit, the picture she’d taken of his grumpy face with the hat sliding over his ears was adorable. It was now the lock screen on her phone.
“Thank you for thinking of him, but I don’t think he needs any more toys, Myrtle. He’s going to be with you in a day or two. Will I be able to drop his toys off with him when I leave him at the shelter?”
Kringle caught the mouse in his teeth and bit down hard. He seemed to be looking directly at her while he did it.
“Don’t be too hasty,” Myrtle said as she retreated to the door. “You never know what might happen.”
“I’m leaving the day after Christmas so I can be back in Boston in time for my job interview. He doesn’t have a lot of time left, though maybe my folks could keep him here another day or two.”
Myrtle didn’t listen to her protests. She was already out the door. Julie sighed.
Ivy crouched in front of the cat, tugging at the mouse’s tail as she played with Kringle. “It really is a shame my husband is allergic. Kringle is a sweetheart.”
Julie showed her friend the grumpy face of the cat on her phone screen. Ivy laughed. But she didn’t argue. That face was proof enough. Kringle was only sweet when he wanted to be, which wasn’t often. More often he was a little terror.
But she liked him anyway. He had personality.
Myrtle popped back into the house with an elaborate donut-shaped toy with a ball inside. “Just a little something,” she murmured as she placed the toy next to the cat on the rug. Kringle sniffed it but was too attached to the mouse Ivy was trying to get away from him to play with it.
With a satisfied smile, Myrtle rose. “Now, shall we put up the finishing touch?”
* * *
Julie fell asleepthat night warm in the bed she was starting to think of as her own. Kringle took up most of the pillow, his soft fur brushing her nose and his purr lulling her to sleep. She left the curtains on the window open, hoping to look out at the patchwork of stars. Unfortunately, with all the clouds in the sky, she couldn’t even see the moon. But there were lights in the distance, broken up by the silhouettes of the trees. The lights of Barrington Lodge.
Had Nolan given his dad the photo? Julie fell asleep wondering whether the exchange had gone well, whether Nolan had finally been able to get through to Stan.
She forgot the question by morning. Mostly because she woke to Kringle batting at her face with his soft paws. Early-morning light streamed through the window, a gray light that matched the cloud cover. A bird swooped across the window frame and out of sight again, its chirp echoing in the morning. With a groan, she got herself out of bed.
“All right, all right. I’ll feed you.”
Kringle was sitting by his cupboard door by the time she made it down to the kitchen, looking grumpy at having to wait.
“I’d be grateful if I were you. I could put that Santa hat back on you instead.”
He gave her a scornful look. Then again, his face usually looked like that. Smiling to herself, she opened one of the last few cans in the cupboard. She’d bought more cat food than she’d needed to. After all, today was the twenty-third of December. Her family was arriving today. The party was tomorrow. She’d be leaving soon after, and Kringle would be going to the shelter and, hopefully, another home.
She shouldn’t feel so sad that she wouldn’t be feeding Kringle for that much longer. After all, she liked sleeping in. But his new owners would have to learn his preferences all over again. Maybe she could make a list, to tell them things like how he liked the salmon-flavored food but not the turkey.
He gobbled down his morning salmon while she made her cup of coffee. As she sat at the kitchen table, watching him turn his nose up at the food that had somehow touched the edges of the dish, leaving a hole in the middle where he’d eaten, she shook her head. Cats could be so wonderfully finicky.
“I’m going to throw the rest of that in the trash if you don’t eat it.” He never touched the food after it had been out for a few hours. She couldn’t much blame him for that, but cat food was unappetizing to her to begin with. She didn’t even like canned tuna meant for human consumption.
Instead of leaving her to her business and trotting off, Kringle cleaned his face and then prowled closer to rub against her legs. He must sense how close she was to leaving if he was sucking up this bad. She liked it anyway.
“Let’s see what we have to do today.” She opened her to-do app and checked the contents of her list for the day. Although she’d prepared the inn from top to bottom, today she had to make sure everything was perfect. The first item on the list was to double-check that the rooms she’d prepared for Gram and her parents had stayed as neat as she had made them. Who knew what destructive behavior Kringle got up to when he was out of sight.
“All right, furball. Let’s go check the rooms.”
To her surprise, he followed as she carried her coffee back up the stairs to the second floor. Everything on the ground floor was spotless, from the table in the dining room she’d finally set up, now that more people than only her would be here, to the hallway that she’d decorated with garlands and snowflakes. Kringle hadn’t decimated the Christmas tree. He met her on the second floor, lounging on the floor in front of her as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
When she tried to step over him, he attacked her feet.
“None of that, you! We’re working.”
