Page 51 of A Christmas Spark
“Hello there, troublemaker.” George’s voice carried from the living room, and Mabel smiled at the affection she could hear in his tone. “Have you been behaving yourself today?”
“Define ‘behaving,’” Mabel called back, setting the vase on the mantel where the roses would catch the firelight. “She only knocked over one lamp, reorganized my sock drawer, and somehow managed to get into the pantry despite the child-proof latch.”
“Impressive,” George said, and Mabel could hear the smile in his voice.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mabel said, nudging a rattling ball toward Rascal with her toe. “But we have a few minutes if you’d like some wine first.”
“That sounds perfect,” George replied. “I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about being here.” He chuckled. “I haven’t been to a woman’s home for dinner in… well, longer than I care to admit. I’m out of practice with this sort of thing.”
Mabel patted his arm, giving him a sweet smile. “George, this is just me. The same person who pranked you for years and got you to co-parent a mischievous kitten. There’s nothing to be nervous about.” It felt like a bit of a reminder to herself, as well.
“That’s exactly why I’m nervous,” George said gruffly. “Because it is you.”
She felt her heart melt a little as he reached down to squeeze her hand, and then followed her into the kitchen so she could pour them both a glass of wine. “We probably have another fifteen or so minutes before dinner is ready,” Mabel said. “Let’s go sit by the fire.”
They took their wine into the living room, settling onto the couch while Rascal entertained them with her ongoing battle against a feather toy. The kitten pounced and batted and chased with such determination that both Mabel and George found themselves laughing at her antics.
“She’s gotten so much bigger,” George observed, watching Rascal execute a particularly impressive leap. “Remember how small she was when you first found her?”
Mabel laughed. “She’s still convinced she can fit into spaces that are far too small for her. Yesterday I found her wedged behind the cookie jar on an upper shelf, looking completely baffled about how she’d gotten stuck.”
George chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. “I’ve been thinking,” he said suddenly, “about our arrangement with Rascal.”
Mabel’s heart fluttered with a sudden nervous uncertainty. “Oh.” She frowned. “Is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts about keeping her?”
“No, nothing like that,” George said quickly. “Actually, the opposite. Since you’re keeping her, you’re definitely going to need my help. Probably a good bit of it.” He grinned. “So… why not make this all official?”
Mabel blinked at him, shocked, as she tried to understand what it was that he was saying. Surely not…
“We decided to share her already,” she said slowly, “What do you mean?”
“Not the kitten arrangement,” George said gruffly, clearing his throat. “I mean… I think that… well, I’d like you to be my girlfriend. But,” he added quickly, fumbling his words awkwardly as always as he tried to explain himself. “Only if you want to, of course. If you don’t, we’ll keep on as we have been, and?—”
“George.” Mabel recovered quickly, warmth filling her chest as she watched him fight his way through his attempts to talk about his feelings. He’d been doing it more often, but he still had a long way to go. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask,” she teased him. “I’ve been waiting forweeks.”
“Oh.” George cleared his throat again, his cheeks reddening. “Well, I’m… that is… I’m glad you’re saying yes. You are saying yes?”
“Yes,” Mabel said, clearly, putting her hands on his cheeks as she leaned in to kiss him. “Absolutely, George Lowery. I would love to be your girlfriend.”
It sounded like something from another part of her life, that label, but she loved it all the same. “I think I’ve been waiting for years, actually,” she said softly, leaning against him as they watched Rascal. “I just didn’t realize it.”
“Me neither.” George covered her hand on his knee with his own, enjoying the moment of peace, the firelight twinkling over the Christmas tree as they sat there with their glasses of wine. “Although I think you were trying to get my attention over the years, with all of those pranks.”
“Oh, and you weren’t, when you pranked me right back?” Mabel poked him teasingly, and George grunted.
“I couldn’t just let you get away with it! And you roped me into helping with the kitten. You wanted to see me more often.”
“You accepted, which means you wanted to seememore often,” Mabel returned, and George chuckled.
“That’s true,” he admitted, leaning in to kiss her. “I’ve never gotten tired of having you around, Mabel Stewart. And I want as much time with you as I can get.”
The words settled between them, tender and honest and full of possibility. Mabel felt her breath catch as she looked at George—really looked at him—and saw all the feelings he’d been hiding reflected in his dark eyes.
“George,” she whispered, as she leaned up to kiss him again… just as a small tabby blur launched itself directly between them, landing squarely on George’s chest with a triumphant meow, claws dug firmly into the sweater.
“Rascal!” Mabel exclaimed, laughing despite herself as the kitten dropped down and settled herself comfortably across George’s lap, clearly pleased with her impeccable timing.
“I think someone’s jealous,” George said, scratching behind Rascal’s ears. “She doesn’t want to share the attention.”
