He was beginning to.
They made themselves at home in the living room with plates loaded with turkey and dressing and cranberry sauce and watched Pierce Brosnan make a fool of himself trying to sing. People not knowing what they were doing, falling in and out of love, chasing each other around—what a dumb movie. It was enough to make a guy toss his Christmas cookies.
And then, just when Zach thought the flick couldn’t get any dumber, one of the women in it started singing “Take a Chance on Me.”
The little green-eyed face at the back of his mind started singing, too. Take a chance. Take a chance. Come on. You run into burning buildings for a living. Get some guts. Take a chance.
The little voice kept singing long after the movie was over.
And when Tom managed to knock the Clue game from the window seat and Natalie picked it up saying, “Hey, this might be fun,” it started screaming. TAKE A CHANCE, BOZO!
Zach jumped off the couch like his pants were on fire. “I’ve got to go.”
SEVENTEEN
Merilee had shed her fancy clothes and changed into her cozy jammies: pink flannel with a candy cane print. She’d turned on her tree lights and served herself some light eggnog along with the small plate of Christmas cookies her mother had sent home with her (comfort food), and now she was snuggled under an afghan (more comfort) with It’s a Wonderful Life playing on her TV (which should have been comforting). A perfect ending to a perfect day.
Not. She was by herself. She didn’t even have a cat now. What was so wonderful about that?
It will be a new year, she told herself. You’ll go to school. You’ll find the right man on Myotherhalf.com. And you’ll move and get a cat. There. The new year was looking better already.
She took a big slug of light eggnog. This stuff sucked. Tomorrow she was going to the store and get some good eggnog. And meanwhile she was going to…? Quit obsessing over Zach!
She opened her laptop. She’d check and see if Myotherhalf.com had sent any new frog princes hopping her way.
George Bailey was begging to live again and Merilee was checking out a new potential other half when someone started pounding on her door. What on earth? She wrapped her afghan around her and padded over to the door and peered through the peephole.
Zach? Was she hallucinating? Under the influence of too much eggnog?
“Merilee, open up.”
She looked down in horror at her flannel jammies. Great. Where was her slinky black top when she needed it? She pulled the afghan around her shoulders and opened the door, sure her cheeks were as red as her hair, to find him standing there, filling the doorway.
“Zach,” she said stupidly.
He didn’t give her time to say anything else. He pulled her to him and kissed her. And what a kiss it was! The only thing that kept her from going up in smoke was her flame-retardant jammies.
Was she dreaming? No. Her eyes were still wide open in shock, and there was that handsome face, up close and personal. Right along with other parts of him. Ooh.
But … “What are you doing here?” she asked when he finally set her mouth free. And why was she asking? Whatever Christmas spell he was under, did she want to break it?
“I’m taking a chance,” he said, and kissed her again.
Those potential princes were immediately forgotten and the afghan fell to the floor.
From the TV, Mary Bailey cried, “It’s a miracle!”
And she was right.
EPILOGUE
One year later
This was the life, thought Ambrose as he stretched by the fire. It looked like it was going to be a nice, long one.
He had sure earned it. It hadn’t been easy getting Merilee and Zach together, but he’d managed. He still looked back on some of his lives and couldn’t make sense of them. One thing he knew for sure, though: this last one had been his most important. He had used it well.
And it had paid off. It was snowing outside, fat flakes laying a freezing carpet on the lawn, but in Zach’s living room everything was cozy. Christmas music came from the funny little contraption on Zach’s coffee table, and in the bay window, the lights on the Christmas tree twinkled temptingly. However, Ambrose was too smart to get fooled into going anywhere near the thing. He’d had enough tree encounters to last a ninth lifetime. Still, it was pretty to admire from a distance.
His evening stretch finished, he relocated to the couch where Zach and Merilee were snuggled with Zach’s computer looking at pictures of brides, making himself at home on Merilee’s lap. She had been off to something called veterinary school but she had come back for the holidays, and to welcome her home Zach had given her a diamond ring.
Ambrose knew about that. Cats didn’t bother with such fol-de-rol, but humans seemed to need things like rings and ceremonies before they could take mating seriously.
Come summer, there would be a big ceremony and then probably, somewhere down the road, children. Ugh. But into every cat’s life a little rain must fall.
A new song started and a chorus of humans began to sing, “We wish you a Merry Christmas.”
It had been a Merry Christmas, with all of Zach’s family over, and lots of women to pet Ambrose. They hadn’t brought Aphrodite but that was okay. It meant more attention for him. He and Aphrodite had managed to keep in touch and probably later tonight he’d be slipping out his cat door for a rendezvous. Ah, life was good.
“We wish you a Merry Christmas,” crooned the singers, “and a Happy New Year.”
A log shifted on the fire and settled with a little whoosh, adding “And a happy ninth life.”
Thank you, thought Ambrose, and he closed his eyes and purred.
ALSO BY SHEILA ROBERTS
The Snow Globe
Small Change
Angel Lane
Love in Bloom
Bikini Season
On Strike for Christmas
ACCLAIM FOR THE NOVELS OF SHEILA ROBERTS
“An absolutely wonderful holiday treat, full of warmth and charm and second chances. It’s the perfect stocking stuffer.”
—Kristin Hannah
“This lighthearted and charming read will appeal to fans of Kristin Hannah’s magical, light romances and readers who enjoyed Roberts’ previous holiday offerings.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“Roberts’ charming holiday-themed contemporary story set in the Seattle area offers hope, comfort, and a second chance for those who believe, and a nudge to change the minds of those who don’t.”
—Booklist
“Roberts’ witty and effervescently funny novel will warm hearts. Realistic characters populate the pages of this captivating story, which is a great escape from the hustle and bustle.”
—Romantic Times (Top Pick)
“Hands down, this has to be the best Christmas book I have read. The characters are so meticulously developed; I had to double-check to see if it really was a work of fiction.”
—J. Kaye’s Book Blog
“Roberts manages to avoid genre clichés and crafts a heartfelt novel with nuggets of life truths.”
—The Press & Sun-Bulletin
“Sheila Roberts makes me laugh. I read her work and come away inspired, hopeful, and happy.”
—Debbie Macomber, New York Times bestselling author
“A fast, fresh, fun, and funny story by a major new talent.”
—Susan Wiggs, New York Times bestselling author
“Fans will relish the adventures of the three amigas as all kinds of relationships blossom.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Sheila Roberts will make you laugh and cry with her latest novel about three women facing life’s trials and tribulations.”
—The National Examiner
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE NINE LIVES OF CHRISTMAS. Copyright �
� 2011 by Sheila Rabe. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Roberts, Sheila.
The nine lives of Christmas / Sheila Roberts.—1st ed.
p. cm.
e-ISBN 9781429989466
1. Cats—Fiction. 2. Fire fighters—Fiction. 3. Man-woman relationships—Fiction. 4. Christmas stories. I. Title.
PS3618.O31625N56 2011
813'.6—dc22
2011025844
First Edition: November 2011
The Nine Lives of Christmas Page 18