She had to admit, it was nice to wake up like this. Almost as if she was on vacation.
When she reached for her phone to check the time, she found a text from Ivy.
Ivy: Coffee or lunch today?
She answered an enthusiastic “yes” and crawled out of bed.
Kringle shadowed her steps, pawing at the bathroom door when she stopped at the bathroom before heading down to the kitchen. When she opened it again, he was nowhere to be seen. Downstairs, the sight of the decorated tree—all save for the missing spot on top—caught her attention through the arch to the living room. It hurt, seeing that gap, remembering what had happened to Gram’s ornament. An antique like that couldn’t be replaced by something she could find at the nearest big-box store. She’d find something, but it wouldn’t be the same.
And moaning about it wouldn’t piece together Gram’s ornament, now shards of glass in the trash. She continued on to the kitchen, only to face the monster responsible for the mishap. The fluffy white cat lay in wait in front of the cabinet housing his food.
Julie needed coffee in the morning if she was even going to approach being human, but she tended to Kringle’s needs first. As she cracked open a tin of cat food, she muttered, “Of all the times to pick a fight with the dog, why did you have to choose that one?”
He mewed as she scraped the unappetizing cat food into his dish. He didn’t sound sorry, only hungry.
“Well, good luck ruining the rest of the party. You’re only here for a few more days at best. In fact, I’m going into town later. I bet a spot has opened up at the shelter. I’ll check.”
As Julie set the dish down on the floor, a feeling of sadness bubbled up. Surely she wasn’t going to miss the ornery cat? Rather than dig into the meal he’d been so anxious she provide, Kringle looked up at her with luminous eyes. He looked a little sad too.
Julie sighed and turned away from him to make her coffee, and when she looked back, he still hadn’t touched his food.
The problem was she was starting to get attached to him. She never should have named him. She missed having a cat, and even though Kringle wasn’t the friendliest, he was growing on her. He was company. He had no one else. She could kind of relate to that. With her family always so far away, she sometimes felt that she had no one too.
That was silly, though. She had friends in Boston. She had a life there. And her apartment didn’t allow pets. She couldn’t bring Kringle with her back to Boston, regardless of whether Myrtle had an opening for him at the shelter or not.
As the water for her coffee heated, she reached down to pet Kringle. His fur was soft and warm. He purred beneath her touch and arched to rub his cheek against her hand.
She scratched behind his ears and whispered, “Yeah, you know I’m a big softie. I won’t let you get euthanized, even if you are an ornament-breaking little terror.”
He started to eat his food, apparently satisfied with the reassurance.
Julie wasn’t sure what she was going to do about him. She was still counting on Myrtle to have a spot for him. Or maybe someone at the party would need a new pet. What other choice did she have, to somehow find a reasonably priced apartment in Boston that allowed pets and move there? All while she was technically unemployed?
Right. That didn’t sound the least bit feasible.
She went back to making her coffee.
* * *
She was finishingup her second cup and last night’s macaroni and cheese when her phone rang. Hoping it was Ned, she dived for it and fumbled to accept the call. “Hello?” She held her breath, hoping that she sat in the one spot in the house with clear cell phone signal.
“Ms. Green?”
It was a woman’s voice. Not the plumber with the parts he needed to fix the sink, then.
“That’s me.”
The following spiel went in one of Julie’s ears and out the other. She forgot the woman’s name instantly—bad for first impressions, Julie!—but the fact that she was calling from the very magazine that Julie hoped to work for drowned out practicality.
“You want me to come for an interview?” she said breathlessly.
The woman on the other line sounded far less impressed. “Yes, we’ve culled through the résumés, and you’re on our callback list. Are you still interested in coming in?”
Julie was in Vermont. She was putting together a party for Gram. She was meeting Ivy for lunch in just over an hour from now. She couldn’t just uproot everything and drive into Boston for an interview. But this was her dream job, the best move she could make for her career. So why didn’t she feel more excited? Probably because she’d been taken by surprise.
“Sure. Of course. When?” Julie crossed her fingers, hoping the woman would say after Christmas. She couldn’t leave with the party planning half done, but maybe she could fly out and zip back and still pull the party together?
“We have a committee coming in the day after Christmas to finalize the interviews. Are you available on the twenty-seventh?”
