A LONG HOT CHRISTMAS

by Barbara Daly

  She smiled. "Yes," she said softly. She bent down, petted the kitten and felt her little back arch up under the caress. Hope wiped away a tear and picked her up. The kitten relaxed at once in her arms. Hope rocked her for a moment, then went back to Sam.

  He was still waiting in the living room, his eyes watchful. "We've decided to be roomies," she said, cuddling the kitten.

  "Thank God!" Sam said, flinging himself down in an armchair in a position of collapsed relief. "The Himalayan belongs to the department secretary—my former department secretary," he amended himself. "She's downstairs in the lobby even as we speak, on pins and needles waiting for me to bring back her fifteen-hundred-dollar baby."

  Hope put the kitten down gently, then flung herself on him. "Oh, Sam, Sam, you are a devil, an absolute devil." She felt herself starting to sob, or maybe she was laughing, or maybe it was something in between, as she pounded at his shoulders. "Why did you do that? What if I'd chosen the Himalayan? What would you have done?"

  His body grew very still, although his hands caressed her back. "I trusted you," he said, "to pick the cat with character."

  She stifled, too, pulled away from him a little. "Can you ever forgive me for not trusting you?"

  "I have to. For a minute there I forgot who I really was. I didn't deserve your trust." He pulled her back down to him, stretching her out over the length of his body. "Do you trust me now? Remember, I'm unemployed. Do you trust me to get another job, be a responsible member of society?"

  "You mean earn part of the family income?" Hope said, stroking kisses across his throat, wishing she could devour him in one wonderful gulp. "I'm unemployed, too," she said. "It's a great window of opportunity for having a baby."

  He made a low, muffled sound as he gripped her even more tightly. "We'll be okay, won't we, as long as…"

  "…as long as we have each…" Hope said, moving her body against his, seeking his heat, his hardness, wanting him so badly she didn't think she could finish another sentence until she'd had all of him she could steal.

  His mouth closed down on hers, gently at first but quickly seizing her with all the passion she could feel inside him. She wrenched at the buttons of his shirt, then her blouse, wanting more of him against herself, wanting to feel the crisp hair on his chest brushing her breasts.

  "Oh, God, Carol," he muttered.

  She stiffened, suddenly feeling faint, dizzy and sick at heart. She drew back from him. "You called me by another woman's name." Her lips could barely form the words.

  "Carol. The secretary," he groaned. "Downstairs in the lobby. Waiting for her cat. I forgot all about her."

  Hope rolled off him. "For heaven's sake, Sam. Pull yourself together. Where'd the kittens go?"

  Sam was buttoning rapidly. "I don't know. Find the Himalayan." He looked down at himself. "Oh, my God, I'll have to wear my overcoat. Do I have lipstick anywhere that shows?" He ran nervous fingers through his tousled hair.

  She found the Himalayan in the office alcove. Curled up on her desk like that, he looked a lot like a mouse pad. Quickly popping him back in his crate, she handed the crate to Sam. "And hurry," she said.

  She followed him all the way to the door, hardly able to let him go even for a minute. As she turned back into the room, the Christmas tree swayed. Hope swayed with it, then directed her gaze to the top. The tiger kitten was there, engaged in a battle to the death with the pipe star.

  "You're going to fit in just fine around here," she told the kitten as she dug its claws out of the Styrofoam ball.

  And so would Sam.

  * * *

  Hope named the kitten Ch'i.

  They had Christmas with Sam's family first, then with Hope's. Ch'i went with them.

  In February, Hope and Sam formed their own consulting firm.

  They were married in March, thinking that if working together hadn't driven them to a knock-down-drag-outfight yet, the marriage had a fair chance of lasting.

  Susannah Sumner-Sharkey was born the following Christmas Day after a short, efficient labor. She has a nursery in their office suite, and comes to work with them every day.

  So does Ch'i. They have no mice. They have, however, had to replace the curtains twice.

  Maybelle does all their decorating.

  She still hasn't sent Hope a bill.

  * * * *