Season's Meetings

by Amy Dunne

  She entered through an old weathered door, and a bell overhead signalled her arrival. Warm air greeted her and the smell of lavender tickled her nostrils. From all appearances, the little shop was exactly what Catherine needed.

  “Can I help you, m’dear?” a small ancient-looking woman asked. She had a broad Scottish accent and peered up through thick bottleneck glasses. Her grey hair was tied up in a plat and wrapped around her head, framing a face shrunken with wrinkles. Beneath a blue tartan shawl she wore a fuzzy-looking light blue jumper, a long, dark blue pleated skirt, a pair of thick socks, and some sturdy-looking laced boots. The smell of lavender intensified tenfold.

  “I need to buy some Christmas gifts for a friend. I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking for, though,” Catherine said. She discretely covered her nose with a finger and took to breathing through her mouth. “But I’d like at least one gift to be extra special.”

  The old woman gave a nod. “Tell me about this friend of yours.”

  Catherine explained Holly was young, beautiful, and intelligent. This was her first time in Athegither, she loved Christmas, and it was her birthday tomorrow.

  “Come,” the woman said. She began shuffling farther into the back of the shop. Catherine followed with tiny steps and nearly toppled into the back of the woman when she stopped abruptly. She unlocked a glass cabinet, reached inside, and withdrew something. She turned to Catherine and presented a box.

  “Thanks,” Catherine said. She took hold of the rectangular box, carefully removed the lid, gazed down, and felt her hope soar. The silver pendant was beautiful: a decent sized chain moulded flawlessly to a pretty silver decoration, and in the middle nestled a turquoise stone.

  “This is the birthstone for December. It’s set in sterling silver with a Celtic knot design. It’s handmade.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Catherine said. She touched the cool metal with a fingertip. It was priced at ten pounds over their agreed budget. After a few seconds of deliberation she said, “I’ll take it. Can I leave it with you while I look around?”

  “Aye. Just ask if you need help, m’dear.” The old woman took back the box and shuffled past Catherine.

  Thrilled with the pendent, Catherine decided she would outright deny any allegations she’d spent over the budget. She felt certain Holly would like it, and she was already desperate to see her expression when she opened it.

  With a spring in her step and money burning a hole in her purse, she began ransacking shelves. Within a matter of minutes, she had an armful of items which she carried over to the counter.

  The old lady started to ring up each item and carefully wrapped the breakables before putting them inside the bag. Handmade Christmas and birthday cards. A tartan apron with a message splayed across the chest in white text reading “Kiss the Chef.” A little white Scottie dog toy, dressed in a kilt, holding bagpipes. A pack of eight red berry candle tea lights, and a tea towel that said “Athegither” and had quaint little pictures on it. Finally, for Eve, she chose a Scottish shortbread selection presented in a smart-looking tin. The total flashed on the till’s screen.

  “Do you accept cards?” Catherine asked.

  “Aye,” the woman said. She took the card and managed to get it inside the machine on the fourth attempt.

  Catherine graciously accepted the bag. “Thank you. Your shop is lovely, by the way.”

  The old woman beamed a smile, which showed more gum than teeth. “Merry Christmas. May it bring everything your heart desires, m’dear.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, too,” Catherine said, unable to resist returning the smile.

  *

  It’d taken a while to get to the convenience store because, although the wellies provided grip, each step was uncomfortable and bordering on downright painful. Once inside the store, she was surprised by the bizarre, eclectic array of products. There was food, drink, toiletries, and other essential household products, but there were also humongous sacks of cattle and horse feed, fishing gear, tubs of paints, and various other DIY paraphernalia. She supposed, as the village was situated in the middle of nowhere, they had to be prepared for every occasion.

  In the end, she purchased three Christmas stockings, a bottle of luxury bubble bath, a large packet of microwavable popcorn, a cable to connect her tablet to the TV, a roll of festive wrapping paper, and tape.

  She went in search of a small birthday cake and candles. The candles were fine, but the smallest cake was big enough to feed eight people. She popped it into her basket anyway, added a small packet of balloons and a tacky foil banner. She queued for a minute, but then had to forgo her place and rush back to the pet aisle. After throwing a couple of dog treats and toys into her basket, she returned to the checkout and got back in line.

  Normally queuing was a pet peeve, but today she didn’t mind one bit. She was not only tapping her feet to the Christmas music playing over the sound system, but humming along, too.

  Walking back to the cabin, she decided to check the garage in case Holly was still there. A stocky man dressed in oily overalls, with a thick neck and dark hair sprouting from his nose and ears, told her she’d left half an hour ago. Catherine thanked him and took in the sorrowful sight of Holly’s car. The bumper hung off one side, and scratches and dents tarnished the hood. A tiny shudder tore through her body at the memory of being trapped inside. They had been lucky to get rescued.

  As she turned to leave, she spotted a sign for tyre chains. Turning back to the man, she pointed at the sign and asked, “Excuse me. Do you have any of these in stock?”

  “Aye.”

  “Excellent. I’d like to buy four of them. Would it be possible for you to put them on the tyres of this car before we leave?”

  The man gave a curt nod and wiped his hands across the stomach of the overalls. “Aye. But this here car’s not going anywhere for at least three days.”

  Catherine grinned and clasped her hands together. “Great. I mean that’s fine.” The prospect of spending three days alone with Holly made her giddy.

  Frowning, the man scratched his black beard and gave a shrug. “Office is this way.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Catherine lounged on the sofa with her feet resting on the footstool. The heat from the crackling fire warmed her toes, and she took great pleasure in wriggling them. Her stomach was full from the sandwich and brownie she’d eaten. Kimmy sprawled across her lap despite there being plenty of space free on the actual sofa. The weight and warmth of her little body reassured. Her ears and paws twitched while she slept, and little whimpers kept escaping.

  She could hear sounds of Holly humming, unravelling tape, and scissors cutting through paper, from the kitchen. Catherine was under strict instructions not to enter the kitchen on threats of pain, death, and the prospect of ruining the surprises of all of her Christmas presents.

  It was immature and unlike her, but she was curious and excited. What could Holly have gotten her? How many gifts? Had she struggled in thinking of things to buy too? She doubted it. Anyway, she’d no intention of venturing into the kitchen until invited. She was comfortable and so was Kimmy. As the saying went, it was best to let sleeping dogs and pigged-out humans lie.

  Catherine had wrapped all of Holly’s presents, written out the cards, and safely stowed the cake and decorations inside her suitcase. She’d written their names on the stockings in permanent marker and hung them on the fireplace mantel. Holly’s and Kimmy’s names had both fit perfectly across the white sleeve, but she’d had to shorten her name to Cath. It didn’t bother her.

  From where she sat, she had a perfect view of them. They made the fireplace look festive, and when Holly returned from her own shopping expedition, she seemed genuinely touched by the gesture.

  “Close your eyes!” Holly said from the kitchen.

  “They’re closed.” Catherine tightly shut her eyes. She heard the pitter-patter of Holly’s feet scurrying across the floor, and a moment later, the bedroom door closed. Catherine coul
dn’t help but smile. They were acting like children and she blamed Holly. Her Christmas cheer and excitement were contagious.

  A few minutes later, the bedroom door opened. “So, what do you want to do now? We can decorate the tree or make the gingerbread house?” Holly asked. She perched on the far sofa arm.

  Truthfully, Catherine was more than happy to stay exactly where she was. As Scrooge-like as it sounded, she didn’t think decorating the tree or assembling the gingerbread house were her kinds of things. It was nice Holly had taken the decorations down so they could do it together, but did it really matter? Would their decorating the tree compared to Fiona’s decorating it make some kind of difference? Probably not.

  “Catherine?”

  “Let’s decorate the tree.” She wasn’t going to ruin Holly’s plans, especially when she looked so eager.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Holly disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with a cardboard box and placed it on the floor beside the tree.

  “What goes on first? Baubles?” Catherine asked, holding a shiny red bauble in each hand.

  “Normally the lights go on first.” Holly smiled and took the baubles from Catherine, put them in the box, and planted a light peck on her cheek. “Then the tinsel and finally the baubles. It’s easier this way.”

  Catherine rummaged through the box and took out both sets of lights. “Do we start at the bottom or top?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Holly said. She moved to the opposite side of the tree, waiting for Catherine to decide.

  Logic suggested start from the bottom and work their way up. Catherine passed the bundle of lights around the back of the tree into Holly’s hands. Holly decorated her side and passed the bundle back. They continued until both sets of lights were wrapped around the tree.

  Surprisingly, Catherine was enjoying this far more than she’d expected. It was fun, which didn’t make sense. It helped that Holly and she were so good together, so in sync.

  Catherine was bending down to the box when something caught her eye. A string of golden tinsel was disappearing around the back of the sofa inch by inch. A quick scan of the living room left no doubt in her mind.

  “Kimmy!” Catherine rushed forward in time to see the final bit of tinsel vanish. She rounded the back of the sofa, but Kimmy and the tinsel were long gone.

  “Drop it,” Holly said, her tone authoritative. She stood with her legs shoulder width apart, knees bent slightly, hands ready to catch a ball. “Drop it right now.”

  Deciding to counter from the rear, Catherine circled the sofa. Kimmy glanced back and looked her square in the eyes with a glittery mass of gold strands protruding from her mouth. Her tail wagged.

  “There’s nowhere to run, Kimmy,” Catherine said. She edged closer.

  Kimmy turned her attention back to Holly, who was closing in.

  “Good girl, Kimmy. Drop it.” Holly was almost within reach.

  Kimmy glanced back again and then burst into motion. In a flash, she raced through the gap between Holly’s legs, the tinsel dragging after her.

  “Shit!” Holly said. “She’s so frigging quick.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Catherine jogged into the kitchen and spotted Kimmy hiding beneath the table. She crawled under the table. As she reached for the tinsel, Kimmy sped off again. Rushing to chase after her, Catherine misjudged the height of the table and cracked her head.

  “Ow!” Rubbing the top of her head and hoping she wasn’t going to have yet another lump, she crawled out to see Holly leaning casually against the archway wall, smirking.

  “Have you still got this, or am I okay to step in?” Holly asked sweetly.

  “I’m not going to be outsmarted by a dog.” Catherine got up and went after her charge.

  Five minutes later, bent double, with hands resting on her knees, Catherine struggled to catch her breath. The little shit was like the canine version of Speedy Gonzales on cocaine. The more Catherine chased after her, the more Kimmy’s tail wagged and the faster she ran. She got through the smallest gaps and refused to be cornered.

  Kimmy watched her, pink tongue lolling, eyes sparkling, tail wagging, and the tiny white teeth showing with each panting breath—resembling a victorious grin. The tinsel, what was left of it, was now nothing more than a slobbery mess. Clumps and stray strands littered the floor in the wake of destruction.

  “Just say the word and I’ll intervene,” Holly said. She sat cross-legged on the sofa watching the whole spectacle.

  “Fine. Go ahead.” Catherine was happy to have a breather and let Holly see how difficult and tiring it was.

  Holly went into the kitchen and appeared a moment later with something in her hand. She walked over to the crate, opened the door, and knelt. Holding something orange out in front of her, she waited.

  “What’s in your hand?”

  “Carrot.”

  “Carrot?”

  “Yes, carrot.”

  Catherine folded her arms and craned her neck. “You’re bribing a dog with carrot?”

  “Have you got a better idea?” Holly asked. She gave a pointed glare.

  “Well, I think if you’re going down the route of bribery, maybe try something a little tastier than a carrot.” Catherine sat on the edge of the sofa.

  “They’re her favourite and carrots are perfectly tasty.”

  Catherine snorted. “Next you’ll be trying to get her to eat her five a day and brush her teeth.”

  Holly clenched her jaws and held the carrot out a bit farther. Kimmy was lying down, but her attention was focused on Holly’s hand.

  “I’ll go and get one of her dog treats.” Catherine started to get up but stopped when Kimmy started to creep closer. Fascinated, she watched as Kimmy continued to make her way toward Holly. Apparently, the tinsel was now long forgotten.

  Holly placed the carrot inside the crate and stood slightly to the side, hands resting on her hips.

  Kimmy continued the belly crawl until she was close enough to rush into the crate. In she went, pouncing on the carrot, clearly excited. A moment later, she happily crunched away.

  Holly locked the door then turned to Catherine and grinned. “Guess I’m right.”

  “You bribed her. That’s basically rewarding her bad behaviour.”

  “You chased her around like a bellowing lunatic. It was probably the best game she’s ever played. I think she enjoyed that more than the carrot.” Holly moved closer. “How’s your head?”

  “Sore.”

  “Whereabouts is it?” Holly asked.

  “Here.” Catherine lamely pointed to the crown of her head.

  Holly leant forward, gently cupped her face, and kissed the top of her head. “Better?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good. Just don’t expect me to kiss your bruised bottom.”

  Catherine’s face burned with embarrassment. Before she could speak, Holly’s lips pressed against hers. The kiss was powerful in its intensity, and Catherine let out an involuntary groan as Holly’s tongue slipped inside her mouth.

  It ended too soon. Holly pulled away, breathing hard. “We need to finish decorating this tree, otherwise we’ll miss the carol serv—”

  “Okay. Let’s miss it.” As soon as the words left Catherine’s mouth, she regretted them. Holly’s flushed face now looked disappointed or hurt—she wasn’t sure which. “Scrap that. We’ll make the service. Come on, I’m desperate to hang some baubles.”

  Frowning, Holly held out a hand to help Catherine up. “If you don’t want to go this evening, I won’t force y—”

  “I want to go,” Catherine said, forcing a smile to cover the blatant lie. If the service was important to Holly, she’d do her best to respect it. “I got a bit caught up in the moment.”

  *

  The newly decorated tree looked pretty. In Catherine’s not so humble opinion, it looked far superior to when they’d arrived. The baubles were evenly scattered and the missing layer of tinsel seemed to only imp
rove the overall appearance. Holly was a little disappointed because they wouldn’t be able to leave their presents under the tree, not with their canine kleptomaniac fiend around. Now they’d moved on to building and decorating the gingerbread house. Again, it was more enjoyable than Catherine had anticipated. The radio played in the background, and an array of sweets and chocolates dotted the table. Holly had purchased them on her shopping trip.

  The stickiness and lack of an organised plan of attack had initially stressed Catherine out more than she cared to admit. Gradually, with Holly’s encouragement and light teasing, she loosened up—although she still systematically placed the tiles on her side of the roof in precise rows and all of the coloured sweets symmetrically. Holly was gracious enough not to mention it.

  “You know what I get from this?” Holly asked. Her forehead creased with a frown and her tongue blobbed out in concentration as she fixed the roof in place.

  “Diabetes?”

  “You’re hilarious.” Holly shot a mock glare before returning her concentration to the roof. “I get a real sense of achievement. From starting with some simple ingredients we end up with this. I find it so rewarding.”

  “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  “It’s my pleasure. I’ve enjoyed today.” Holly stood up, seemingly clueless to the large dollop of icing smeared on her forehead. “It means so much to me that you’re willing to give all of this a go. It can’t be easy for you. And I know I’m a bit full-on, what with organising a whole itinerary and all. I just…want to make it special for you.”

  Catherine bridged the gap between them. “You’ve already made it special. For the first time in years I’m enjoying myself. With the exception of picking up dog poo and being so accident prone, it’s been great.” She paused, lowered her tone to serious, almost grave. “I have to be honest with you, though.”