“Mom, I’m here!” Kristen called.
She took another step forward and almost tripped over something soft and fuzzy that had decidedly not been here on her last visit. The ball of fur, which turned out to be a cat, rolled onto its back and batted at the laces of her winter boots.
“Mom, did you get a cat?”
Her mom stepped into the nearest doorway, wearing a flour-streaked Mrs. Claus–themed apron over jeans and a heavy knit sweater. She smiled, the laugh lines around her mouth deepening. When she swiped away a strand of her hair—still mostly her natural brunette but now threaded with silver like tinsel—she left a line of flour on her cheek.
“I did. I thought he’d be a good addition to the family. His name is George.”
Kristen leaned down to pet the cat. He batted at her fingers as if that were his version of a handshake.
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
George returned to batting at her laces.
Kristen looked up to find a soft, fond smile on her mom’s face. Something had eased since the one she’d given Kristen when she’d walked in. She was relieved, maybe. Perhaps she was relieved that Kristen was finally here, or maybe she’d been worried that she wouldn’t like the cat.
With her free hand, Kristen wiped at her cheek. “You have…”
“Oh.” Her mom laughed and scrubbed her cheek with the back of her hand, which only made it worse. “I was working on a batch of sugar cookies. I’m almost done with the dough. If you’d like, you can come in and help decorate, like you used to do when you were small.”
Kristen rolled her eyes. “I’m still small.” Especially compared to the rest of her family. She barely topped five feet, whereas her mother was five foot seven, and her brother was over six feet tall.
“I’ll get the stool so you can reach the counter,” Dorothy said, her blue eyes twinkling.
“Ha ha, very funny.” Kristen toed off her boots, earning an annoyed look from George, as she had to shoo him away. She placed the boots neatly beside the other shoes in the entryway. His entertainment interrupted, George proceeded to turn his back on them and groom his fluffy tail.
Kristen scooped him up, and he let out a meow of protest. “What are we going to do with you while we bake?”
Her mom turned away to retreat into the kitchen. “Oh, don’t worry about him. I’ll give him a catnip mouse, and he’ll be out of our hair until we’re done.”
Chapter 2
Smash!
Smash!
Smash!
Kristen and Dorothy jerked their attention from the cookie dough to the corner of the room.
George had somehow gotten onto the shelf of Kristen’s great-grandmother’s hutch and was pushing off the collection of vintage salt and pepper shakers one by one.
“Oh no!” Dorothy ran over and scooped up the cat. “Guess I need to get you more toys.” Dorothy found the catnip mouse under the table and tossed it in front of George, who pounced then proceeded to bat it around.
Kristen was already sweeping up the mess.
“Thanks, honey. I wouldn’t want him to cut his paws on that. Hopefully, he won’t make a habit out of that sort of thing.” Dorothy frowned at the cat, who was using his sharp nails to skewer the toy and toss it in the air.
“Let’s hope. Too bad about Gram’s shakers.” Kristen dumped the debris into the wastebasket.
Dorothy looked wistfully at the hutch. “It is, but they do create a lot of clutter. It might be time for me to clean things out, anyway. Maybe George is smarter than we know.”
They returned to the counter, and Kristen used her grandmother’s metal cookie cutters to cut shapes of trees, Santas, snowmen, and snowflakes out of the dough. Even though her mother had newer plastic cookie cutters in more shapes, Kristen loved these old metal ones with the wooden knobs. She put the last batch of cookies in the oven while Dorothy finished sprinkling colored sugar on the ones they’d just frosted.
Kristen turned from the oven and watched the cat. “I wish I had that much energy.”
“Maybe you should try some catnip,” her mom said with a wink.
