Page 23 of A Christmas Spark
“Mabel’s not my girlfriend. You’ve been standing in a hot kitchen for too long. Come on, let’s get this over with.” He looked down at the kitten, who had settled down in the crook of his arm. The sight of the ball of fluff curled up so comfortably there made his chest feel a bit odd. “Let me grab a box or something to put this little monster in while we ride over.”
“I think it likes you,” Jackson observed, glancing at the now-purring kitten.
“It’s just cold,” George insisted, although he found himself absently stroking the soft fur. “Cats don’t like anyone. They just tolerate people who feed them.”
It didn’t take more than a few minutes to find a small cardboard box in the back of the office, and George dug out an old flannel he used when working around the farm, one he wouldn’t mind doing without. It was well-worn and just about to the point of being used for rags, anyway. He lined the box with it, and carefully placed the kitten inside. It immediately tried to climb back out, tiny paws scrabbling at the edges.
“Oh no you don’t,” George said, gently pushing it back down. “You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.”
The kitten looked up at him with what could only be described as betrayal in its eyes, letting out a soft, pitiful meow that made George feel unreasonably guilty.
“Fine,” he relented, picking the kitten back up and tucking it inside his jacket pocket. “But just until we get to the truck.”
Jackson smirked but wisely said nothing as they locked up the office and headed out to George’s pickup. True to his word, George plopped the kitten back into the box once they were in the truck, handing it to Jackson to hold on the ride over. As a result, every few minutes Jackson had to scoop up the kitten as it tried to escape and put it back in the box, as it tried to get back to the warmth of George’s jacket.
“You’re a menace,” George told it, but there was no heat in his words. The kitten merely blinked at him from the edge of the box, paws curled around the cardboard.
Main Street was bustling with holiday shoppers, and it took several minutes to find a parking spot. George finally wedged his truck between a minivan and a Jeep, one with reindeer antlers on the hood, and the other with a Christmas wreath hanging from the tire on the back.
“Shopping season’s in full swing,” he muttered as they headed toward The Toy Chest. Mabel’s Christmas displays were out in all their festive glory, lights twinkling from the window displays and door, a huge wreath on the front door, and an elaborate window display featuring animated elves in the largest one. George wrinkled his nose, remembering the elf-themed prank Mabel had played on him the year before, but he somehow couldn’t stop a smile from springing to his lips.
“Can’t complain,” Jackson said cheerfully. “We’re busier than ever at the diner. And you’re doing pretty good yourself, I hear.”
“Can’t argue with that.” He really couldn’t. He’d been having his most profitable year so far, although there were times when he missed the years gone by, when Fir Tree Grove hadn’t beensucha draw for tourists, and the Christmas season had felt cozier and more belonging to the town, and only the town. But still, he didn’t mind it all that much. It was good for business, and it was nice to see the town thriving.
The bell over the door jingled merrily as they walked in, Jackson handing the box containing the kitten to George. George scooped the kitten out immediately, certain that he needed to keep ahold of the little thing. The interior of the store was even more crowded than the street outside, with parents and children filling the space and making a long line at the register. Perfume and cologne mingled with the scent of pine from the Christmas tree and the cinnamon spice scent of the wax warmer on the counter.
Next to him, Jackson hummed along to “Jingle Bells” as they waited, the song that was currently playing from the store speakers.
He saw Mabel behind the counter immediately, her gray curly bob pulled back with a tartan headband as she rang out customer after customer. On her other side, Vanessa was quickly wrapping gifts—a large teddy bear, at this particular moment. She was wrapping with a speedy precision, with crisp corners and perfect bows despite her pace.
“Look at her go,” Jackson said with a grin. “She’s a pro at this.”
George chuckled, focusing on holding onto the squirming kitten in his arms. He was certain by the time they made it to the register that there had to be at least three new holes in them.
“George!” Mabel exclaimed as he and Jackson walked up. “What are you doing here—oh.” She shook her head as she caught sight of the kitten in his arms. “How on earth?—”
“I think this belongs to you.” George held out the squirming bundle. “Little rascal had it in his head to become a Christmas tree topper.”
“A what?” Mabel’s eyes widened.
“Found the little beast atop my Christmas tree in the office,” George said matter-of-factly. “No idea how it got there though.”
“Oh my goodness! All the way over there?” Mabel stroked the kitten’s head, scratching behind its ears. The kitten immediately started purring, curling against her chest as she crooned to it. “I feel awful, I didn’t even realize she was gone! We’ve been so busy?—-”
“Well, the little rascal made it back safe and sound,” George said gruffly. “She might reconsider her life choices after this.”
“Poor little thing,” Mabel crooned. She broke off, looking up at George with a sudden light in her eyes. “That’s perfect!”
George frowned. “What is?”
“The name! Rascal! It suits her perfectly. I hadn’t gotten around to naming her yet, but that is just?—”
“You name her, you’re going to end up keeping her,” George muttered. “And you’re way too busy for a kitten, Mabel.”
Mabel sighed, still petting the kitten. It meowed loudly, over the din of the store, as if in agreement.
“See? That’s settled.” George shrugged. “You’ve got to find a home for her. Or see if any room’s opened up at the closest shelter.”
