“Mom!” Beau rose from his seat and glared at her.
“Oh dear. I thought Shawna would be happy for her father.” Bonnie didn’t look too contrite when she sat down.
Beau took off after Shawna while his mother addressed her guests, but no one in particular. “I feel just terrible. Who would have thought an adult would react like that?”
Hannah poked me. “Should we go to help? We’re on their side—right?”
I didn’t know what we were expected to do. Most of the guests appeared uncomfortable. Bonnie had already moved on and was proudly showing off a diamond ring on her left hand. In the end, it was my brother who initiated the mass exodus of the Bauer family. He motioned to my mother, and our entire family excused ourselves and met in the restaurant foyer.
Jen immediately located her mother and aunt in the large bar area a few steps down. Shawna stood by the oversized fireplace, wiping tears from her face while Beau comforted her. Laci and her parents clustered nearby. Before anyone could stop her, Jen rushed down the stairs to her mom. Like bewildered baby ducks, we trailed after George into the bar lounge.
Bernie stopped me and asked, “What happened?”
When I explained, he appeared puzzled. “That doesn’t sound like Bonnie. She’s always so considerate.”
“Exactly. It’s totally out of character for her,” I said.
Mom leaned in to our conversation and whispered, “Did it occur to you that she may have done it on purpose to help Beau save face?”
“What?” Hannah wedged between Mom and me. “That makes no sense at all.”
“People do a lot of things for their kids. Maybe Beau isn’t ready to pop the question, and Bonnie wanted to provide another reason to celebrate.”
“But Bonnie is already wearing a ring,” I whispered. “It couldn’t have come as a last-minute thing.”
“Good point!” exclaimed Hannah.
And then, as though we had planned it, our little group turned and watched Phil, Marnie, and Laci. Deep in conversation, no one bothered to lower their voices, and they were plenty agitated.
“You have your nerve waltzing into Christmas with a fiancée on your arm.” Marnie’s jaw twitched in anger.
“As I recall, you’re the one who threw me out into the cold. What did you expect me to do? No loving wife, no family. Did you think I’d sit on the stoop and cry?”
“It’s not like you to be so hurtful. Is this what that woman brings out in you?”
“In retrospect, I see that it may not have been the best idea to bring her to Laci’s house yesterday.”
“And just whose idea was that?”
Phil clenched his fist. “There’s no point in blaming anyone. What’s done is done.”
“Just as I suspected. You’re blindly going along with anything she says. Don’t you see? She’s trying to drive a wedge between us.”
“That’s not fair. Bonnie is a fine woman. You’d like her if you had met under other circumstances.”
“Wake up, Phil. She could have waited a few days instead of ruining Christmas for our whole family. She invited us to this nightmare of a Boxing Day party, and I could have met her then, instead of under the worst possible circumstances.”
“I’m not going to argue about this with you,” said Phil. “We’re separated. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“
Argh
. You’re impossible!” Marnie threw her hands in the air. “Then let’s set your relationship aside. What kind of woman dates her son’s girlfriend’s father?”
“It’s not like that. Besides, she’s not the only woman I dated. Can I help it if Beau happens to have a lovely mother?”
Marnie clapped a hand against her chest and staggered backward. “There were others? You didn’t waste any time, did you?”
“Good grief, Marnie. You expected me to curl up by myself and whither away? You were the one who wanted me out of the house. Surely you expected me to date.”
“I thought you would live in a pigsty and eat nothing but fast food until you came to your senses and realized how good you had it with me.”
“You were waiting for me to come home?”
“I didn’t expect you to marry right away.”
Phil massaged his forehead. “That came as a surprise to me, too.”
Laci wrapped a hand across her eyes for a moment and sighed. When she removed it, she said, “Enough. You two are only making things worse for Shawna.”
Her parents had the good sense to look over at their younger daughter. Tears streaked her makeup but she had managed to compose herself.
Beau addressed us. “I’m going back to join my mother’s party now. I’m sure you understand. I trust one of you will see Shawna safely home?”
I wondered what he could possibly have said to her to help her dry her eyes.
Phil toddled over to Shawna, hugged her, and murmured something in her ear. He clapped a hand on Beau’s back and the two of them headed for the stairs.
“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Marnie.
Phil stopped briefly to look back at her, but he didn’t say a word. He seemed sad, but he walked up the steps, away from his family.
My dad broke the tension when he said, “I’m starved.”
Marnie and Mom shot him incredulous looks, but Jen saved him by piping up, “Me, too.”
Shawna sniffled and declared, “I hate that woman. She ruined everything.” Her tone rose with hysteria until it was a shriek that drew the attention of everyone in our vicinity. “First she stole Daddy and now Beau
can’t
propose to me because it won’t be special, and Christmas is over!”
Marnie embraced her daughter and walked her toward the door, past a shaggy-haired young man, who looked on, his expression troubled.
“It doesn’t have to be Christmas, honey. He can propose anytime.” Marnie shot my mother a helpless look, and I knew she didn’t believe a proposal would be forthcoming.
Since I hadn’t been to the grocery store, and I’d brought my leftovers to Laci’s, we decided to get takeout from The Laughing Hound and left Hannah and Dad behind to carry it back to my place.
The rest of us trudged home, the picture of gloom and doom, instead of happy partygoers. After a couple of blocks, Shawna peeled off, claiming she needed time alone to think.
If it had been Hannah, I would have coaxed her to come home with us, but Shawna wasn’t my sister, and Laci didn’t intervene.
The rest of us hurried home, hungry and cold. But the second we entered my house, I knew something was wrong. Daisy didn’t rush to the foyer to greet us, and Mochie hissed at us—which he’d never done before.
SEVEN
From “THE GOOD LIFE” :
Dear Sophie,
My wife refuses to put up a Christmas tree because of our cats and dogs. I don’t want my children missing out on the fun of a tree. Any suggestions on keeping the pets out of the Christmas tree?
—Troubled in Tannenbaum, Arkansas
Dear Troubled,
Put up your tree for two days before you decorate it. That will give them a chance to sniff it and get used to it. Set the tree on top of a small sturdy table so it’s not at nose height. If it’s a live tree, cover the water since it can be a toxic drink for animals. Protect or hide electric cords from animals likely to chew on them. Never use tinsel. Swallowed tinsel can mean emergency surgery or death. Don’t hang treats or toys (especially not catnip-scented) as ornaments. When decorating your tree, always use unbreakable ornaments around the bottom in case someone is tempted to take a swipe at one.
—Sophie
His tail erect, normally sweet Mochie stalked around us, not allowing anyone to touch him. We hung up our coats, and I found the problem in the kitchen. Daisy sprawled on the floor with two adorable kittens nestled next to her tummy for warmth. Their noses were coal black in stark contrast to their fluffy silvery fur. It almost appeared as though they wore grayish masks. The most startling thing about the two kittens were their vibrant blue eyes.
Mochie strode by them and hissed, prompting them to snuggle deeper into Daisy’s fur. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Daisy meant to protect them from Mochie. I scanned the kitchen in disbelief. Where could they have come from?
Jen threw herself at them. “Kittens! Is this my real Christmas gift?”
George looked at the ceiling like he was saying a quick prayer.
Laci glared at me, threw her hands in the air as though she blamed me for buying the kittens for Jen, and immediately said, “No, honey. Now, we’ve talked about this. I’m a working mom and we don’t have time for pets. I’m sure your Aunt Sophie knows that.”
I wasn’t sure Laci would ever pry the kittens away from Jen. She lifted one in each hand and cuddled them to her. I’d heard Laci complain about the burdens of pets many times, and I would never dream of giving Jen a cat or dog without her parents’ permission. “Sorry, Jen. I don’t know where they came from or why they’re here.”
Laci edged away from Jen, as though she was afraid of liking the kittens. “You mean they’re not yours?”
Surely no one in my family would have surprised me with kittens. I squinted at George. Was this some kind of trick to manipulate Laci into giving Jen the kittens? “I’ve never seen them before.”
George sputtered, “Oh, come on. Like we’re going to believe that?”
Mom scratched them under their chins. “I think they’re Ragdoll kittens.”
They were gorgeous. These kittens had never scrounged on the streets. They looked like fairy-tale kittens—born to be pampered. I bent to stroke Daisy’s head, and she batted her tail against the hardwood floor. “Hannah and Jen can confirm that they weren’t here last night or this morning.” Merely uttering those words sent a shiver down my spine.
“Someone broke into your house?” Mom took one of the kittens from Jen but she looked worried.
If they hadn’t been so cute, I probably would have been concerned about their sudden appearance in my house sooner. Somehow, fluffy kittens just didn’t equate with anything malicious. I strode into the sunroom to be sure the back door was locked and found a fleece-lined basket with a tag on the handle. The door was secure, so I returned to the kitchen and read aloud from the tag. “ ‘Merry Christmas! We hope you love these babies as much as we do.’”
“Who signed it?” asked George.
I flipped it over. “No signature.” Nothing seemed amiss, except for the presence of the cats and the basket.
George left the room abruptly and I could hear him tromping up the stairs to the second and third floors. He returned shortly. “I don’t see any signs of a break-in. Whoever brought those kittens had a key.”
Mochie sat on the window seat and watched grumpily as my family passed the darling kittens around. I tried to pick him up to prove he was still loved, but he was having none of it. Determined not to let him see me with the kittens, I busied myself at the stove, putting on the kettle for tea and heating cider. I plopped cinnamon sticks into mugs and wondered who could have left kittens in my house.
“Maybe they’re from Wolf,” suggested Mom.
Wolf loved cats and dogs as much as I did, and swung by the shelter regularly to donate food. He was practical, though, and I couldn’t imagine Wolf giving anyone an animal unless he knew they wanted one.
“He left town yesterday morning and won’t be back for a few days.”
“Sophie, who has keys to your house?” demanded George.
When did George become so protective? I almost resented the tone of his voice. “Not Wolf.”
“Mars?” he asked.
I chose my words carefully so I wouldn’t mislead anyone. If my mother thought my ex-husband had a key, but Wolf didn’t, she would jump to all kinds of incorrect conclusions. “Mars and Natasha have a key. They have to since we share custody of Daisy.” Daisy flapped her tail at the mention of her name.
“Bernie still has a key from the time he stayed here, but he was at the restaurant.” Then I thought of my best friend and across-the-street neighbor, Nina Reid Norwood, who was used to letting herself in and out of my house. “Nina has a key, too, but she’s in North Carolina visiting relatives over the holidays.”
“You’ve given a key to everyone in the neighborhood?” George scolded.
“Just a few people. Don’t you have a key for some of your neighbors in case of emergency?”
Thankfully, Hannah and Dad arrived with the food. I set the dining room table while Dad struck a fire in the fireplace. “Sophie, I don’t like this business about someone entering your home while we were out.”
I wasn’t very happy about it myself, but we’d had enough aggravation, and I desperately wanted to change the subject. I opened takeout containers heaped with rosy, sliced roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, gravy, garlic mashed potatoes that smelled heavenly, and a festive salad of corn and diced roasted red peppers atop greens. It stood to reason that an Englishman would serve traditional holiday fare on Boxing Day, but I wondered if Bernie had given us the meal we would have eaten had we stayed at Bonnie’s party, and I said so aloud.
Dad shrugged. “Looks good.”
The last container brought a smile to my face, since I didn’t think Chinese eggplant with spicy curry was a British Boxing Day tradition. Bernie threw that in because he knew how much I liked it.
Our noisy bunch finally sat down to eat. Daisy planted herself at my feet, and Mochie paced in the foyer, where he could watch us and the invading kittens. Laci tried to convince Jen to put the kitten down during dinner, but Jen wasn’t letting go. A compromise was reached when Marnie, who held the other kitten, suggested they were so small they would be very happy in Marnie’s and Jen’s laps. That appeared to satisfy everyone except Laci.
“Since the kittens are so mysterious, I think we should call them Agatha and Edgar,” said Marnie.
“Mother! Please! No names,” cried Laci. “Dear heaven, what have you done?”
Dad asked innocently, “What’s the problem?”
George cut a piece of roast beef on his plate. “Once you name them, you’re stuck with them.”