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Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses(6)

By:Jenny Hale


They opened the next two doors, and he explained the purpose of each room. She wrote down where the light came in and areas on which she wanted to focus. When they came to the fourth door on the hallway, he skipped it and walked ahead. She looked at his face, his thoughts seemingly preoccupied all of a sudden. It was subtle, but she’d noticed. What was behind that door?

“Did you want me to see this one?” she said, stopping in the hallway and pointing back to the closed door.

“No,” he said. “I won’t need you to decorate that room. It’s fine.” He walked ahead and opened the next door. It was just like the others.

“I’m sorry,” she stopped him right there in the hallway. She was going to have to really make sure he understood if she ever wanted to feel comfortable in his presence. “I must drive home the fact that I haven’t ever had a decorating job of this magnitude. Ever. I’ve only done the cottage for your grandmother and I’ve decorated my mom’s house. I’ve never even been in a home on River Road before.”

Everyone in the vicinity of Richmond knew where River Road was. It was more than just a road; it was a landmark, a stretch of real estate showcasing Richmond’s finest. “I mean, my mother’s house is nice. She’s on the corner of Maple and Ivy Streets,” she kidded, trying to joke about the insignificance of where her mother’s house was located. Clearly, he didn’t get it. Maple and Ivy obviously didn’t have the same impact as River Road. Her joke had fallen flat.

He stared at her, as if waiting for something more.

“What I’m trying to say…” She swallowed. “What I’m wondering is…” She didn’t want to not take the job. But telling him the truth was the right thing to do. “I’m inexperienced. With all the money that you have, why don’t you just hire an experienced decorator?”

He was silent a moment as if he were trying to get his answer just right. “I mean no disrespect,” he said. “This was my grandmother’s idea. She thinks I need to make this house presentable for my family and friends when they come for Christmas. I agree, to a certain extent. And I think the emptiness bothers her in general. The problem is, I only want to make her happy. I don’t care enough about it to spend time searching for a decorator. I just want it done, and if she thinks you’re the person to do it, then so be it.”

So he didn’t care that she wasn’t a seasoned professional. He didn’t care about any of it. Any feelings of achievement she’d had by securing this job came crashing down. He was telling her loud and clear that it wasn’t about him trusting her abilities; it was just something to tick off his list. Nick turned and headed down the hallway again. Trying to look on the bright side, Abbey walked along beside him, thinking of all the possibilities.





Chapter Two





Abbey opened the modest door to her mother’s house and nearly fell over. There, on the living room hardwoods, right in front of her, were countless shattered ornaments, tinsel strewn about, and a brightly lit spruce monster writhing on the floor. Abbey’s mother lunged for the outlet and unplugged the twinkling lights, the spruce monster going dark. A black bolt of lightning shot out from it, disappearing around the corner, leaving a heap of Christmas ruin in its wake.

With a huff, Abbey’s mother lowered herself down on the floor and put her hands on her cheeks in bewilderment.

“What was that?” Abbey asked in horror.

“Señor Freckles got the tree.”

“Señor Freckles is still alive?”

Her mom nodded.

Señor Freckles was Abbey’s grandfather’s cat. Born feral, he’d never quite gotten the hang of domestic life. He lurked in corners and crannies, only coming out to eat, and no one—as far as Abbey knew—had ever been able to touch him. He had to be at least twenty by now.

“Did Gramps bring that thing with him when he came to live with you?” she asked the question but didn’t hear the answer, because she was too busy wondering how they ever got that cat into the car, and why she hadn’t noticed him when she’d dropped off Max. But then again, he’d probably been lurking in a dark place somewhere. When Abbey looked up, her mother was nodding, so she guessed that her mom was now the proud owner of Señor Freckles.

Abbey nudged her mother’s fallen Christmas tree out of the way, the ornaments tinkling together as they got jostled, just as Max came into the room to see what was going on.

“Hi, baby,” Abbey said, giving him a kiss on his head and tousling his hair. He looked up at her with his bright eyes. They used to remind her of his daddy, but now, they were just his.