Page 24 of Under the Mistle-Foe

He was already waiting for me outside his house, bouncing from one leg to the other like he was trying to generate warmth.

I rolled down the window and told him to hop in quickly. A cool rush of air followed him inside the car. He placed the pet carrier in the back seat before shooting me a smile in greeting.

He was wearing my red scarf and beanie again, looking all bundled up and cozy. The red yarn was almost the same color as the red on his lips. He probably had another one of his cherry lollipops.

“Why didn’t you just wait inside? I could have texted you when I got here,” I said, but then realized I didn’t actually have his number. There hadn’t been a reason for us to exchange numbers since I’d returned to town, considering we were together almost every day.

Jett only laughed in reply, then turned the topic to the animal shelter. I could hear how excited he was to foster a pet or two. It was kinda cute.

I could see him face me out of the corner of my eye. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little tired.”

I couldn’t very well tell him I hadn’t really slept lastnight because I was thinking about today. That would be absolutely bonkers to say, so what was a little white lie between friends? “Was up late doing inventory for the diner.”

“You need to have your rest too. Aren’t you technically here on vacation? And yet here you are practically working every day at the diner,” he commented. There was obvious concern in his tone.

Something nudged me in the back of my head, wondering if I’d told him I was on leave from my company to be here with Dad. If he knew, I must have. And I was probably just too tired to remember when exactly this conversation had happened.

“Working at the diner is like a little break. I like being there,” I said. It was the first time I’d admitted it out loud, but as my words flowed into my own ears, I realized how true they were. The stress of working at the diner was different from the company I’d worked at.

Team projects sometimes meant long overtime or busy weekends. Long hours over a table felt more laborious than the physical hours in the kitchen did. But best of all, when it was time to clock out at the diner, I didn’t bring the stress from work home.

It was a different kind of pace, a much slower pace than the big city life. Not to mention the people here were a lot nicer as well.

I’d forgotten how much I’d missed it until living back here again. There was a sense of community here that didn’t exist in New York. People came together in times of fun but bonded even harder when someone was in need, just like how Jett was willing to help foster when he heard there was trouble at the animal shelter.

There were already quite a few people inside by the time we arrived at Santa’s Helpers Animal Shelter. A slightlyfrazzled looking man caught sight of us and came over to greet us.

“You must be Elias, right? The guy running this place,” Jett said.

“That’s me. Though recently it feels like this place is runningmein circles instead of the other way around,” he said with a chuckle that sounded equal parts exhausted and self-comforting.

“Are you two here to foster some of our fur babies? We could really use the volunteers,” he asked, a hint of desperation in his tone.

He was obviously stressed about the current circumstances, and I felt for the dude, I really did, but Dad and the diner kept me plenty busy already. Plus, I wasn’t home enough to look after animals.

“Sorry, I’m just here to accompany him,” I said, gesturing to Jett. “But he’s very excited about taking one or two home.”

“That’s wonderful to hear! We really do appreciate all the help we can get. Feel free to take a look around, and once you find your furry friend, let me know and we can fill out the form.” Elias barely got the words out before someone was calling him over. He shot us an apologetic look before going where he was needed.

“So, where should we start?” I asked Jett. He placed his pet carrier near the wall, then pointed to where the cats were being kept.

“I’m thinking of fostering a cat or two. Dogs are nice, but I dread the thought of having to walk them in this cold weather.” Jett shivered as he finished speaking, causing me to chuckle. He really was weak to the cooler temperatures.

Thankfully, it seemed a lot of the animals had already been fostered out, but we still spent a good half an hour visiting with all the different cats. Even if I had a heart of steel, it would melt from hearing those cute little meows.

We stopped to play a bit longer with a pair of cats who’d initially been cuddling with each other but separated when we drew closer. The black and white one—a tuxedo, Jett had informed me—had snuggled up to me almost instantly, purring like a machine. Meanwhile, the orange cat was climbing up and down Jett’s leg, letting out an excited meow every time he let the kitty play with his hand.

“Ah, typical orange cat behavior,” Elias said with a grin. “These two are Sugar and Spice.”

“Let me guess. The one I’m holding is Sugar,” I said.

Elias laughed again and nodded. “Yep, she’s a sweetheart. And that little guy currently trying to tackle your friend’s hand is our beloved Spice.”

Jett was now sitting on the ground play fighting Spice with his hand as the cat rolled over and over. Jett laughed as he tried to tickle Spice’s belly, but that only made him wiggle even harder.

“Sugar and Spice are bonded siblings, so we’ve been having a bit harder time finding a foster home for these two.”

I looked down at the precious girl, who was still snuggled contently in my arms, purring. How anyone could say no to taking her home was beyond me. And sure, her brother was a bit on the energetic side, but that just meant he’d surely keep you entertained.

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