Winter Hearts

by A. E. Radley

  For starters, they’d put it in the spare bedroom—the one where my toy box stayed. Peyton had said that it was Daisy’s job to clean the litter box. I really hope she wasn’t paying her a lot, because…well, she wasn’t very good at it. Once a day, Daisy would go in to the bedroom and run a little plastic shovel through the rank muck—missing half the kitty turds—before dumping a few scoops into a bag, and then toss in some fresh litter on top of the still-stinking mess the kitten had left behind. At first I’d tried holding my breath when I wanted a toy, but that didn’t work. Two days ago, I’d given up and decided the toys in my box were a lost cause. The few I had salvaged I was keeping hidden under the couch.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, there was my snacks. Or lack thereof, I should say. Before the kitten arrived, Daisy used to share her afternoon snacks with me. Sometimes even part of her dinner. It was one of the ways I was able to keep my boyish weight up after Peyton and Ashley had changed my food to the grain-free brand. But now that the kitten had arrived, that gravy train had come to an end. Literally.

  I was lying on the couch, thinking of how good the gingerbread cookie would have tasted—the one that Daisy had been munching on before she’d left to go shopping with her grandmother. The cookie that she’d shared with the dastardly kitten. As I lay there brooding, I heard Elvis come bounding through the front door.

  “Hey Moose, hey Moose!” he called, running into the living room. “Guess what! Me and Cassie went and saw Santa Clause at the mall today and you were wrong!”

  I popped my head up. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “You said Santa was mean, but he wasn’t.” Elvis shook his head as he spoke, his giant ears flapping. One of them caught one of the snowmen that decorated the coffee table and sent it flying across the room. “He was nice and let me sit in his lap to get a picture and then gave me a dog treat!”

  “Elvis, what—” I stopped in mid-sentence as his words sunk in. “Do you still have any of it?”

  “Any of what? Oh, the treat.” He shook his head again and another snowman went airborne. “No, I ate it all at the mall.”

  Damn it.

  “But I think Cassie brought one for you, too.”

  “What!” I jumped up and started running toward the kitchen, where I could hear Cassie and Ashley talking.

  “Yep, you and the kitten, too.”

  That stopped me dead in my tracks. “That damned kitten,” I growled. “It’s about time I did something about him.” I walked back to Elvis and sat next to him. “Look, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve got an idea.”

  “An idea on what?”

  “On how to get rid of him.” With a quick look over my shoulder to make sure that no feline ears were listening, I continued, “I’m going to make the people hate him.”

  “I don’t understand, Moose, how are you going to do that?”

  “I’m going to break something and make it look like the kitten did it. I haven’t decided what yet, but it has to be something Daisy likes. Then, once she sees how bad the kitten is, she’ll tell Peyton to get rid of it.”

  Elvis shook his head and the last of the snowmen took flight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Moose. I saw something like that on tv one time and—”

  “Dog,” a sly little voice cut in. “And bigger dog.”

  Elvis and I turned to see the kitten sitting just at the end of the coffee table. He licked his paw and swiped it over one ear before sauntering over to us.

  Damn it, I hadn’t heard or seen him coming. I frowned, wondering how much he’d heard.

  “Fluffy,” I growled, “I don’t remember inviting you into this conversation.”

  “I told you that I will not answer to such a ridiculous name,” the kitten yowled back. “I am Ragnar Silver Storm of the—”

  “Yada yada ca-ca.” I took a step toward him. “Let me tell you something Fluf—”

  “That’s enough,” Elvis barked, moving in between us. He looked down at the kitten and then back at me. “Now, I don’t like cats any more than you do, Moose, but you two are going to have to get along.”

  “Not unless I make the humans get rid of him.” Ragnar flicked his tail. “After all, the dog is old. All the humans need is a little push in the right direction…maybe I’ll break something and make it look like he did it.”

  So he had heard our conversation! “Listen here, you little—”

  “Moose, you’re not helping things,” Elvis said. “You two need to learn to live together.”

  I frowned at him. “Since when did you become Mister Peacemaker?”

  Elvis shrugged. “Since I saw Santa today. I think both you and the kitten could use some Christmas cheer.”

  I wasn’t sure what was in that treat that Santa had given Elvis, but it must have been laced with something to have him talking out of his mind like he was.

  Before I could respond to that ridiculous statement, Ragnar said, “Don’t be ludicrous, big dog. Cats cannot coexist with dogs. That’s one of the laws.”

  “What laws?”

  “The laws by which all cats are ruled.” Ragnar flicked his tail again and stared at us with his beady little eyes. “Surely you know of them.”

  Elvis and I exchanged glances and then looked at the kitten.

  “I think you’re going to have to explain.”

  “The laws,” Ragnar sniffed, “are taught to all kittens by their mother. Cats cannot coexist with dogs, law number six.”

  I always knew that cats were a pompous bunch. “Law number six?” The kitten nodded. “What’s number one?”

  “A tired cat is a grumpy cat, so one must always get one’s sleep. Eighteen to twenty hours a day is what my mother said is best.”

  I’ve never heard that before, but decided there must be an awful lot of tired cats out there.

  “How about law number fifteen?” Elvis asked.

  “When your human cleans the litter box, it’s important that you use it again as quickly as possible to show them what a good job they’ve done.”

  “Twenty-five?”

  “If you see a human walking with something in their arms, rush quickly in front of them and zigzag between their legs.”

  Elvis cocked his head. “Why would you do that?”

  Ragnar shrugged. “To improve their coordination skills, of course.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How many laws are there?”

  “Three hundred and seventy-seven.”

  Good grief.

  “But I only know two-hundred and twenty,” Ragnar said, his voice losing some of its normal haughty tone.

  “Oh, and why is that Ragnar Silver Britches?” I chided. “Did you fail out of kitten school?”

  He looked up and then away. “No,” he mewled softly after a long silence. “I was seized from my mother before she could teach them all to me. My brother Olav and I were put into a box by loud-talking humans in the middle of the night and then put into the back of a truck.” He brushed a paw over his whiskers. “I managed to escape and was trying to find my way back home when the Daisy human picked me up.”

  Elvis hit me on the back of the head with one of his paws. “Way to go, Moose.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. I knew better than anyone how bad life on the street could be, so I had to admit I felt bad for the little guy. Even if he was a cat.

  “Look, Ragn—” I started but stopped as soon as I realized that the kitten had disappeared.

  “Where’d he go?” Elvis asked.

  I looked around, but saw no sign of him.

  “I don’t know,” I answered with a shake of my head. I sighed and motioned for Elvis to follow me to the kitchen. “C’mon, let’s go find Cassie and those treats you mentioned.”

  “Thanks for coming over to help, Cassie. I think I went a bit overboard ordering all these presents for Daisy and Peyton, but it’s our first Christmas all together as a family.”

  “Oh, no problem.” Cassie blew a stray piece of hair from h
er eyes. “Since it’s just me and my dad, I don’t have that many presents to wrap anymore. I’ve been missing it, really. It helps me get into the Christmas spirit.”

  “Well, good,” Ashley said and reached for the scissors sitting on the kitchen table.

  “So,” Cassie pushed up her glasses with the back of her wrist as she taped up another package. “You still haven’t told me about La Scala’s. How was the food? I heard the scallops are to die for.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Ashley said absently as she picked up a roll of wrapping paper. “It was okay.”

  Cassie paused in mid-tape and cocked her head. “Just okay?”

  Nodding, Ashley began cutting a sheet of paper off the roll.

  Cassie placed the package she’d been wrapping onto the table. She stared at Ashley, lips pursed. “What happened? Was the food bad?”

  “No, not at all,” Ashley said, shaking her head. “The food was great. The service was beyond excellent. I mean the poor waiter went out of his way to make sure we were happy, but Peyton and I…” She sighed. “We kind of got into an argument at dinner.”

  “An argument?” Cassie sat up in her chair. “About what?”

  “I don’t know. About nothing really. We’ve made up since, but Peyton…she’s been…in a mood lately.”

  Eyes narrowing, Cassie said, “What kind of mood?”

  “Weird,” Ashley shrugged. “She keeps staring at me all the time, like she wants to talk about something. But when I look back at her she gets all red in the face and hurries off or goes back to watching tv. When I ask what’s wrong, she just says, ‘Nothing’ all innocent.” Ashley placed the scissors back on the table.

  “What do you think is going on?” Cassie reached for one of the pre-made bows spread out on the kitchen table and plopped a big red one on top of the package she’d just finished.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Oookaay. So, let’s go through dinner and you tell me what happened, and I’ll see if I notice something odd or a pattern that you might have missed.”

  “Well, there wasn’t anything to miss really. We sat down and ordered. Peyton asked for the wine menu and selected a nice one for us. I told her it was too expensive, but she insisted. Said we both needed to relax and enjoy our evening.”

  Cassie nodded. “That sounds nice.”

  “Yes, it was. The waiter brought the wine and let’s see…oh, a girl I used to teach stopped by the table to say hello. So sweet of her. I talked to her for a minute, and then the waiter came back to take our orders. For some unknown reason, that really seemed to irritate Peyton.”

  “Why?”

  “Again, no clue.” Ashley picked up a small box from the center of the table and began wrapping the Santa Claus-covered paper around it. “She had just said she had something she wanted to talk to me about. Something about when she first moved back to Ridgeview and we reconnected, she thought she was really lucky, but then…”

  “But then what?”

  With a shrug, Ashley said, “That’s the thing. She never got to finish because the waiter came for our orders.”

  “Oh?”

  She slid a piece of tape across the end of the gift she’d just wrapped and then placed it back onto the kitchen table. “Then before I could say very much, she ordered for both of us, even down to my sides. She ordered me a baked potato, and you know how they just glop all that butter on top and then add sour cream?”

  “Oh, that sounds delicious,” Cassie said, looking dreamy. “I could go for a baked potato right about now.”

  “Yes, but the point is, it’s so fattening. So, I said, I hope they don’t put all that on top of mine, and she just brushed it aside like it was nothing, even though I told her I’ve been trying to lose a few pounds. Then she started up that same spiel again, almost word for word. When she first came home, she thought she was really lucky, but then…”

  “But then what?”

  “I don’t know,” Ashley said, “because the waiter came back. I guess now I think about it, the guy really was a little too solicitous, if you know what I mean. We could barely talk for his interruptions.”

  “And it sounds like she had something she wanted to say.”

  Ashley shrugged. “I guess. Maybe… Why? What do you think she was trying to say?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d sure like to know what she intended to say after that ‘but then.’”

  “What do you mean?”

  Cassie shrugged and scrunched her face. “I’m not sure. But tell me what happened next.”

  “The waiter brought our food and sure enough, there was butter and sour cream on my baked potato, but I ate a little of it, because it looked so good and I’d had a hell of a day at school. Anyway, I noticed Ashley kept watching me. She said later that she didn’t, but I know she did. And after dinner, she started to say something again, and that’s when the waiter came and asked if we wanted dessert. And she looked right at him and said, ‘That fat girl across the table from me does not need any dessert.’”

  Cassie’s mouth fell open. “What?”

  Ashley dusted a stray shred of paper from the sleeve of her shirt. “Well, that’s what I heard anyway. Her actual words were, ‘nobody at this table needs any dessert,’ but that’s what she really meant.”

  “Oh my God, Ashley, what did you say?”

  “Not much. I was hurt, of course. Peyton kept apologizing, saying she hadn’t meant it to come out that way. I finally forgave her, and we agreed not to discuss it anymore.”

  Cassie crossed her arms and sat back. “Well, was that before or after she tried to break up with you?”

  “Before she tried to… Wait, what? What on earth are you talking about, Cassie?”

  “Peyton trying to break up with you,” Cassie said with a slow shake of her head. “Or at least that’s what it sounds like. It has all the earmarks of a classic breakup. I mean, she takes you to a fancy restaurant—and that’s for two reasons. First, it’s kind of a consolation prize. And second, she knows that in a fancy restaurant, you probably won’t make a scene.”

  Ashley felt the blood leave her face. What Cassie was saying couldn’t be true, could it?

  Cassie nodded sagely. “Then she has obviously rehearsed what she wanted to say, which means she was nervous. You said she said the exact same thing over and over.”

  “Yes, but Peyton wouldn’t. She’d never…”

  “She never finished what she had to say, right?”

  Feeling vaguely dizzy, Ashley sat back in the chair. “No, but…but that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Maybe not,” Cassie said. “I hope not. But she did say, ‘but then.’”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Well, what else could she have meant? I thought I was lucky to get back with you again, but then I realized what an awful mistake it had been. Or I thought I was lucky to get back with you, but then, I met someone else that I’m really crazy about.”

  “Cassie!”

  Cassie shrugged again. “Or maybe I’m wrong.”

  “Of course, you’re wrong!” She had to be. “Peyton would never do something like that to me. She loves me!”

  “She did call you fat.”

  “Not exactly, and she apologized for that. No. No way is she trying to break up with me. No. Way.” Ashley said, pointing her scissors in Cassie’s face. “The very idea is crazy. We just moved in together.”

  “Okay. Forget I said anything.”

  “Okay! Consider it forgotten.” Furiously, Ashley grabbed another package and started winding the wrapping paper around it. She tore the paper and tried to tape it up in a spot no one could see, but the tape got snarled up. She picked up the package and threw it across the room.

  “Damn it, she was trying to break up with me!” she said, tears springing to her eyes. “But…but, I love her, Cassie. She’s my world.”

  “Look Ashley, maybe I’m wrong,” Cassie said softly, reaching across the table to grab her hand. “I hope so! Wait and see what happ
ens next. If she says again that she has something to talk to you about, then you know something is definitely up and you can prepare yourself.”

  “Oh God.” Ashley sat stunned. What if Cassie was right? What if Peyton had been trying to let her down easy? “But what if she does? What will I do if she says that?”

  The buzz of her cell phone caused both of them to jump. Ashley picked it up and felt her stomach drop as she read the text that had come across.

  “It’s Peyton,” she said, her voice quavering. “She wants to know if I can come to the office to talk about something.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “I’ve got everything in place,” Lori said excitedly. “I think Debra could use a little more practice, but we’ll keep her at the back and maybe Ashley won’t notice her lack of coordination.”

  Peyton, who had been working in her office, leaned back in her chair and sighed. This thing had disaster written all over it. How had she ever let Lori talk her into it?

  Peyton was decidedly not a dancer and never had been. Even back in kindergarten, when the teachers did the annual Christmas pageant, she’d had to play the part of a Christmas Tree, who just stood on stage and held a gift box. She had really wanted to be The Christmas Star, and had actually won the coveted role by being the top speller in the class spelling bee. The Christmas Star was the one who danced across the stage and brought happiness to all boys and girls everywhere on Christmas morning. But to Peyton’s mortification, she and her teacher soon discovered—after a few disastrous rehearsals in front of the whole class—that she had two left feet and no rhythm. The part was given instead to her nemesis and archrival for the title of smartest in the class, the girl who had come in second in the spelling bee, Kimmy Atkins. Peyton’s dreams of stardom, so to speak, had thus been thoroughly crushed at the tender age of five.

  So, when Lori had sprung this crazy wedding proposal idea on Peyton, she should have known better than to listen to her. Why hadn’t she realized the moment Lori had popped the question, as it were, that she’d probably just wind up embarrassing herself and Ashley—only this time with witnesses.