Merry’s
Christmas
REQUESTED
PAIRING: Carmine/Shirley
RATING:
PG
CATEGORY: Romance/Humor
DISCLAIMERS: All the usual apply
SETTING:
SUMMARY: Carmine is on
a quest to find the perfect gift for Shirley on Christmas, but has a lot less
time than he thought….
With eight simple words, Carmine Ragusa’s day went from merely tedious to shot-to-hell.
“So, what did you get Shirley for Christmas?” asked Squiggy. He leaned against the Pizza Bowl’s well-aged jukebox and drummed his fingertips against the scratched glass.
Carmine froze with his slice of pepperoni pizza halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean, what did I get? Christmas is still days away.”
Squiggy snorted. “Where, in
Carmine gulped and set down his slice with shaking hands. Squiggy had to be wrong. There was no way he could be right. “What are you talking about?” Growing panic made his tone sharper than he intended. He pointed to his watch, reading the tiny date on it just to be sure. “It’s only December 20th!”
“Um, no,” said Squiggy. “It’s December 24th, pal.”
“What?” Carmine stood up so fast, he nearly knocked over his chair. Squiggy flinched and raised his arms defensively, as if they were back in high school and Carmine needed extra milk money. “That’s not possible. It says right here!” Carmine tapped the face of his watch.
Squiggy tentatively drew closer and peered at Carmine’s watch. He took a step back and cocked his head to one side. “Is it also one o’clock? ‘Cause I’m either late returning from my lunch break or my date’s overdue by six hours.”
Carmine stared at him until Squiggy’s words penetrated. He snapped his wrist up under his eyes. “One o’clock,” he read. “Damn it!” He pulled off his watch, held it to his ear, and shook it. Sure enough, the second hand was frozen in place and he could hear neither tick nor tock. He tossed the watch down on the table. “Piece of crap! You know, Rudy the Grease told me it fell off a Timex truck? That lying, no good S.O.B. I paid him ten bucks for it!”
“Not for nothing, Carmine, but don’t you think a guy who goes by the surname The Grease might not be all that worthy of trust?” Squiggy raised an eyebrow to emphasize his point.
Carmine sank down in his seat again and dropped his head into his hands. “It’s really December 24th?” he mumbled from between his fingers.
“Has been all day,” Squiggy confirmed. “I know, ‘cause I made a ton of last-chance beer deliveries today and the manifests all said the date at the top.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I take it this means you’re a little behind on the Shirley gift selection for this year?”
Carmine only responded with a groan. Visions of his Angel Face’s wide brown eyes clouded with disappointment filled his head. “Oh, that’s okay, I understand,” she’d say…right before she headed out the door to find the nearest single doctor.
“Geeze, that’s too bad, Carmine. Y’know,” Squiggy added smugly, “I got her a little something a month ago.”
Carmine scarcely heard him. “What am I going to do? It’s already seven p.m. on Christmas Eve. Even if there were any stores still open, everything’s all picked over already.” Not to mention he only had about five bucks in his wallet. Maybe he could sell his watch? His broken watch. Yeah, right. That would work.
Carmine felt a hand land on his shoulder. He looked up into the guileless blue eyes of Lenny Kosnowski. “Hey, Carmine, why so down? You look like somebody killed your dog.” Lenny’s eyes widened. “Wait, someone killed your dog? Oh, my God, that’s awful, I’m so sorry.” He buried his face in his hands and a sob shook his tall frame.
Carmine sighed and dropped his forehead onto the tabletop.
Squiggy slapped Lenny on the back. “What is the matter with you? You’re acting like a girl!”
“But…his doggy…the poor little doggy,” Lenny reached for Squiggy to hug him.
“He doesn’t even own a dog!” Squiggy hopped away from Lenny’s embrace.
“Really? So it’s okay then?”
“What’s okay?”
“The dog!”
Squiggy heaved a weary sigh. “Yes, Lenny, the dog Carmine doesn’t own is just fine.”
“Phew!” Lenny dropped his hands to his sides, a smile of relief cutting across his reddened face. “That’s great news.”
“Course,” Squiggy added in a sly tone, “if Carmine had a dog, at least he could’ve given it to Shirley for Christmas. Instead of, you know, the nothing he’s gotten her so far.”
Carmine banged his head on the tabletop.
Lenny shrugged. “So, why don’t you do that, Carmine?”
“Do what?” Carmine looked up at him with one eye. Trying to follow a conversation with Lenny and Squiggy made him dizzy. Or maybe the repeated headbanging on a wooden surface was the cause. He couldn’t be sure.
“Give Shirley a dog. She loves animals.”
Carmine slowly raised his head from the table. “I can’t afford a puppy, Len. Besides, Mrs. Babish doesn’t allow us to have pets, remember?”
“Besides moths,” Squiggy confirmed.
“Right. Besides moths. And no,” he added quickly, “I’m not buying Shirley moths for Christmas!”
Lenny closed his mouth and looked disappointed. Then he tapped his chin. “How’s bout a fake dog, then? You know, stuffed. Like her Owie-Owie Kitty.”
“Boo-Boo Kitty,” Carmine and Squiggy corrected in unison. Carmine shot Squiggy a look, but Squiggy avoided his eyes.
“Right, right,” said Lenny. “Well, you could get her – I don’t know – a Damaged Doggy or Pounded Puppy to go with it. I bet she’d like that.”
Carmine perked up. Lenny had a point. Shirley was a huge animal lover and adored all her stuffed critters. Did she have a doggy? He struggled to remember her lineup of pretend pets. The cat, of course, and there was a sheep, a horse, and that old thing with half its fur missing. Was that a dog or some sort of rodent? No matter, it couldn’t hurt if he bought her a duplicate stuffed toy. Could it? Naw, of course not.
“Len, that’s a great idea.” Carmine stood up and took Lenny’s hand, giving it a firm shake.
“It is?” Lenny looked confused, as if sorting through his last ten minutes of conversation. “Oh, right! Yeah, sure, no problemo.”
“I know just where to find a stuffed dog, too. Thanks, man!” Carmine let go of Lenny’s hand and headed for the door.
As he left, he heard a muffled thud. “Ow!” Lenny exclaimed.
“Why’d you go and be all Helpful Harry like that?” Squiggy hissed. “I was in like Flynn!”
“But…what do you mean?”
Squiggy let out a growl of frustration. “Awww, never mind. Let’s finish Carmine’s pizza.”
“Okay. Oo, look, a watch!”
“You can have it,” said Squiggy. “Merry Almost-Christmas, Len.”
“Aw, geeze, thanks a lot, Squig. But I didn’t get you nothing.”
“That’s okay.”
“You maybe want a stuffed dog? I hear Carmine knows where to find ‘em.”
The rest of their conversation was lost to Carmine as he shut the door behind him and jogged off into the night.
***
Carmine decided to cut through the alley behind the hardware
store and then hop across
Cars were whizzing by at brisk speeds up and down
A small movement across the street caught his eye. He blinked and leaned closer to see what appeared to be a very large rat climb out of the sewer and look around. “Yuck,” Carmine said to no one in particular, “I hope you don’t have the Plague.”
The headlights of a passing car better illuminated the
creature and Carmine realized it wasn’t a large rat, but rather a small cat.
Probably had been down in the sewer hunting mice. His heart beat faster. Go back in, he thought in the cat’s
direction. Good kitty, just turn around
and go….
The cat darted out into traffic.
Now his heart was in his throat. Carmine knew he didn’t have as tender a heart toward animals as his Angel Face – hell, saints didn’t have hearts so open and loving – but he wasn’t soulless either. He watched the little creature dash under the chassis of a Chrysler, then shrink back just in time to avoid an oncoming Cadillac, before a Dodge came barreling toward it.
Carmine ran out into the street.
He shouted and waved his hands as he did, not wanting to wind up road kill any more than he wanted to watch the kitten meet that fate. Cars slammed on squealing breaks or veered around him. One missed him by so little that he felt it flick his jacket to one side. Still, he kept going, making use of every bit of the speed and dexterity he’d learned in the boxing ring. He feinted around a pickup truck and, without slowing his forward rush, he bent down and scooped the terrified cat up with one hand. Tucking it under his arm like a small, furry football, he sprint the rest of the way across the street, leaving behind him a slew of honking, cursing drivers.
One he landed on the opposite curb, Carmine turned and waved to them. “Yeah, and happy holidays to you all!” he shouted. Then he fell back against a streetlight pole and slid until his bottom was on the sidewalk. All he could hear for several seconds was his own heart drumming in his ears. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. He was barely aware of the little thing squirming in his hands until it nipped him on his thumb.
“Ow!” said Carmine, though he barely felt it. The teeth were sharp, but tiny. He raised the little cat up to eye level and glared in its face and panted, “Is that…any way…to thank me…for saving your…first life?”
The kitten eyeballed him, clearly unimpressed. Its wide eyes were grey-green and looked too big for its tiny, triangular face. The kitten was mostly grey, but with a patch of white on its right shoulder and another on the tip of its tail. It shifted its attention from Carmine to its front paw and began licking it with a long, pink tongue.
Carmine sighed and shifted the kitten so that it was cradled on his lap. It seemed content to stay there and he was exhausted enough by his mad dash and sheer terror to remain sitting on the street corner until the kitten was finished tidying itself up. Carmine absently stroked the kitten’s back and it stretched under his hand, but didn’t scratch or nip again.
Gradually, Carmine remembered why he’d been on
As he did, he considered the obvious gift now licking its personal parts on his lap. Shirley would go crazy if he brought her this cute little…guy? Girl? Carmine peered between the kitten’s legs and around its darting tongue. Girl, he confirmed. But Mrs. Babish would never let her keep it and that would just tear Shirl’s heart out. Besides, the kitten didn’t have a collar. It was obviously a stray and probably had who-knew how many diseases and parasites. Carmine looked at his thumb and saw a tiny dot of blood where one of the kitten’s teeth had pierced the skin.
“Terrific. Now I have rabies. I have no gift for my girlfriend, she’s probably going to leave me for Squiggy, and I’ve got rabies. Merry Christmas to me.” Carmine stood up and cradled the kitten in his arms. “I guess I should find you a shelter and head home before I start foaming at the mouth.”
The kitten mewed. Carmine waited for the light to actually turn this time and walked dejectedly back home.
***
Carmine stood in front of his apartment building. It was a lot harder to tuck a kitten into a pocket than he expected.
“Would you please stop squirming?” he begged, as a furry butt popped back out of his jacket. He pushed the butt and four little paws sprang out, claws at the ready. He hastily pulled his hand away. Finally, a little head poked out and glared up at him. “Mew!” the kitten protested.
“Fine, fine, let’s try this then.” Carmine scooped the kitten out of his pocket and tucked it under his jacket. He zipped the jacket cautiously, avoiding the soft, grey fur, until the kitten was entirely hidden. He folded his hands across his stomach and felt the warm body curl against his midriff and he held it in place. It wasn’t the most naturally-looking position for his hands, but it would probably work well enough until he was safely inside his apartment. “Okay, Merry, we’re off,” said Carmine. “Just don’t meow in front of anyone, or we’ll both get tossed out on our keisters.”
The kitten did not respond. “Good kitty,” said Carmine. He pushed open the front door and headed into the lobby.
He’d run around to three vets’ offices and found them all closed up for the holidays. He’d tried the pound, but even though they were open, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Merry there. He saw the forlorn faces of dogs staring at him from those tight cages and the bored-looking attendant ignoring their misery at her desk and he’d just turned around and walked right back out the door. That’s when Carmine knew for sure he was boned.
“I shouldn’t have named you,” he whispered to the kitten as he began hiking up the stairs to his apartment. “It’s not like you’re my pet. Now I’m getting all attached and that’s just dumb.”
As he walked past Laverne and Shirley’s apartment door on the way to the last flight of stairs up to his own place, Merry kneaded his stomach. Carmine yelped. “Cut that out, Merry! I’ve got skin under that shirt, you know.”
The kitten jabbed him again a couple of times before settling down. Carmine climbed the last flight of stairs, muttering, “You’re a naughty little minx, aren’t you? Well, just wait until we’re home. I’ll show you what happens to bad little girls.” They get my pillow and a saucer of half-n-half, he thought. Yeah, that’ll teach you.
Carmine unlocked his door and went inside. He hit the light and looked around his sparsely-furnished apartment. He only had one pillow on his bed, so he’d have to do without for the night. “I really hope you don’t have fleas.” He withdrew Merry from under his jacket and watched her blink in the lamplight. “Here we are, home sweet home.”
The kitten looked unimpressed.
“Yeah, well, it ain’t much, but it’s better than traffic.” Carmine tossed his pillow down on the floor and set Merry atop it. She wobbled a bit on the unevenly-stuffed cushion, then began kneading it with her feet and turning until she decided it had been properly tenderized. She landed in a doughnut-shape in the middle and closed her eyes.
“Glad you approve.” Carmine smiled down at Merry. She was awfully cute when she wasn’t tearing strips of flesh off his gut. He wondered if she needed a blanket, but decided that she was furry enough to stay warm. He went into the kitchen and searched his fridge for milk or cream, but found neither. Well, he did locate some milk, but one sniff told him that it was no longer fit for man or beast. He wound up filling a plastic cereal bowl with water and leaving that beside Merry’s head.
“Now, what do cats eat?” He began rummaging around his cabinets. “Fish, right? I must have a can of tuna in here somewhere….”
Carmine heard a rap on his front door. Startled, he glanced at his wrist, then rolled his eyes and grumbled when he remembered that his useless watch was at the Pizza Bowl. Or in Lenny’s pocket, more likely. “Just a sec!” he called at another knock. He knew it had to be around nine or so by now. Who’d be knocking on his door so late?
Carmine froze. What if it was Mrs. Babish? He thought hard – was his rent overdue? No, he’d slid it under her door a couple days ago. She couldn’t have heard Merry’s few “meows” on his way upstairs – could she?
“Oh, no, no. We’re busted, Merry.” Carmine tossed the can of tuna he’d just located back into the cabinet and spun around. He grabbed the bowl of water off the floor and dropped it into the sink. The knocking on his door continued, more emphatic now. “I’ll be right there!” he called. “I’m,” What should I be doing at nine o’clock on a Friday night? “busy. Being…naked.”
What? He boggled at his own words but was too busy trying to find a way to hide Merry to improve his fib.
The knocking on his door became a banging. A female voice he couldn’t quite identify through the door called, “Open up, I know what you’re up to!”
:”Damn it.” Carmine dropped to his knees beside the now-snoring kitten. His eyes darted about the room, seeking a place to hide her. Finally, he slid Merry, pillow and all, like a hockey puck until she came to rest underneath his bed. He gave his covers a yank so they were half-off the bed, draped over the visible space between bed and floor. Then he dashed to his door, hesitating only to take a calming breath and put his most innocent expression on his face. He opened the door.
Laverne DeFazio stumbled forward into his apartment. Apparently, she’d been leaning up against his door when he yanked it open and she had to pinwheel her arms to keep from landing on her nose.
Carmine reached out and steadied her. He released his breath in a whoosh. “Laverne. Oh, thank God, it’s only you.”
Laverne gave him a shove in return and straightened her L sweater and skirt. “Yeah, you won’t be thanking no one when I’m through with you.”
Carmine blinked. He followed behind Laverne as she stalked into his apartment like a hungry wolf. “Um, is there something wrong?”
“You bet your tight booty there is!” Laverne planted her fists on her hips. “Where do you get off doing this to Shirl again? And at Christmas, Carmine. Shame on you!”
Oh, no. Squiggy must’ve said something to her about his not having a present for Shirley. Carmine hung his head. “I know, I stink,” he said. “But I was really trying to take care of it tonight.”
“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now? ‘Taking care of it?’” Laverne shook her head, green eyes flashing condemnation. “I really thought things were gonna be different between you guys after Eraserhead’n all. But I guess you really can’t teach a dog new tricks.”
Carmine frowned. “What does that have to do with…?”
“I mean really, Carmine. You couldn’t keep it in your pants even for Jesus’s birthday?”
His mind struggled to process what Laverne was saying. “I’m going to go look again tomorrow,” he said. “I’m sure I can find Shirl something nice. The gas station’s usually have some last-minute presents, at least.”
“What?” Laverne looked as if he’d spit on her. “You think some trinket from the Pump’n’Plenty’s gonna get Shirl to forgive you?”
Carmine threw his hands up. “Fine, then I’ll just get down on my knees and apologize and get her something really great after Christmas!” Hey, why didn’t he think of that earlier? What with the post-Christmas sales, he could probably scrape together enough to get Shirl something pretty spiffy. “I’ve been going crazy keeping up with my schedule at the dance studio, plus I’ve got a fight around New Year’s I’ve been training for. I just lost track of the days, that’s all. It was my watch’s fault, Laverne!”
Laverne advanced and Carmine instinctively took a step back. “Your watch made you cheat, Carmine? That’s about the lamest, most – insane excuse I’ve ever heard.”
“What?” Carmine exclaimed. “Cheat? Who…what?”
“I heard you!” Laverne jabbed her finger into his chest. “Tonight, stumbling up the stairs.” Laverne tried to push him aside and march into his bedroom. She pointed at his rumpled bed. “Where is she, huh? Hiding in the bathroom?” She leaned past Carmine and yelled, “Get out here, ya floozy! You and I need to have a little chat!”
“Whoa, Laverne, wait!” Carmine grabbed her by the shoulders. “I don’t know what you think you heard, but you’re wrong. I ain’t cheating, I swear. Those days are over.”
“Ri-i-i-ght. And I suppose you were just rolling around in your bed naked and alone while I was pounding on the door.” Laverne paused as if contemplating the possibility, then shook her head in dismissal. She pushed Carmine aside and marched into his bedroom, fists at the ready. “Get out here, or I’m coming in!”
“Laverne, stop!” Carmine followed her helplessly.
Why does she always assume the worst about me? He’d never really cheated on Shirl. They’d had an agreement! Yet somehow he was the one who got all the blame for dating around. Hadn’t Shirl had her share of other fellas take her out on the town? Anyway, all of that was in the past. They’d declared their love and agreed that, while not yet ready for a long-term commitment, they’d see only each other from now on. He’d stuck to that agreement like glue, so Laverne’s continued doubt really hurt.
“How did you get your clothes on so fast, anyway?” she tossed over one shoulder as she grabbed his bathroom door and gave it a yank. She stumbled backward when it opened without resistance and landed squarely in the middle of his bed.
Carmine heard a squeal. Before he could intervene, a grey blur shot out from under the bed and leapt on top of Laverne.
Laverne screamed.
“Merry, no!” Carmine threw himself onto the bed and tried to grab the kitten. He was rewarded with several more scratches on his arms and hands.
“Get off, get off!” Laverne cried, shielding her face from the fury of fur and tiny teeth and claws that whirled atop her. Carmine managed to insert himself between kitten and woman and took the brunt of Merry’s attack. As he wrestled the little animal to one side, he heard a voice from the doorway.
“What is going on up here? I could hear you from downstairs.” Shirley Feeney walked into the apartment. She froze in the doorway to Carmine’s bedroom and stared.
Carmine looked up at her. He was lying entwined with his bedclothes and Laverne, both of them rumpled, out of breath, and red in the face. Knowing how hopeless it would sound, he said it anyway: “Shirl, this isn’t what it looks like.”
Shirley’s eyes were wide as a doe’s. Her mouth fell open.
Oh, no, here it comes. Carmine braced himself.
“Ohhhhhhhh, she’s so cute!” Shirley squealed.
Laverne looked over at Carmine, eyebrows raised in query. Carmine knew what she was thinking. Shirley’s mind had snapped over their perceived betrayal.
The he saw Merry had daintily climbed onto his stomach. The kitten hopped onto Laverne’s head. Tail swishing across Laverne’s face, she sat up tall and began preening herself.
Shirley clapped her hands, as unabashedly joyful as a little girl at…well, Christmastime. “Aw, you are adorable! What’s your name?”
Carmine pushed himself into a sitting position. Wearily he said, “I’ve been calling her Merry.”
From flat on her back, Laverne brushed Merry’s tail away from her mouth and said. “Oh. Ohhhhhhhh!” She looked up at Carmine, abject apology etched into her features. “Oh. The kitten is Merry.”
“Yes,” said Carmine, in clipped tones. “The. Kitten. Is. Merry.”
“Ah, geeze.” Laverne closed her eyes and slapped herself on the side of the head.
Merry turned and gave her a nip on the finger for nearly smacking Merry’s butt. Laverne groaned. “I deserve that.”
Shirley walked forward and held out her arms. Merry leapt into them and snuggled against Shirley’s breast. The young woman’s face glowed. “Carmine, she’s beautiful. But why didn’t you tell me you got a kitty?”
“She was kind of…unexpected.” Carmine stood up and gave his hands and arms a quick exam. If he didn’t have rabies before, he sure did now. He wondered if his growing headache was a symptom.
“You mean a surprise?” Shirley contemplated the kitten in her arms. Her breath caught in her throat. “Carmine,” she gasped. “Was she…for me?”
Now he was well and truly boned.
“Merry Christmas.” He managed a weak smile.
Laverne sat up. Her hair looked as though she’d styled it with an egg beater. She examined a slash on the sleeve of her sweater ruefully. “I’m dumb,” she said. She looked at Carmine and smiled hopefully. “Forgive me anyway?”
Carmine couldn’t summon enough energy to even be annoyed. “Sure.”
“It’s just that I heard you talking – it sounded like – I mean, Merry sounds like Mary and Merry could be a girl’s name, too, and….”
“Forget it, Laverne. Trust me; it’s the least of my problems tonight.”
Laverne looked at him quizzically, but he didn’t elaborate. He watched as Shirley cuddled and nuzzled the Christmas present she couldn’t possibly keep and wished he had simply been caught with another girl. In the end, that would’ve been far less cruel to his sweet girlfriend than this.
“Aren’t you the cutest, wootest, wittelest, pooky-wooky?” Shirley cooed. “Would ‘ums like something to drink?”
“There’s a bowl in the sink,” said Carmine, “but I don’t have any milk.”
“Oh, Carmine, you shouldn’t give kitties milk!” Shirley scolded. “That’s a common misconception. Milk gives them the runny-wunnies. Doesn’t it? Doesn’t it? Yes, it does.” Snuggling the mewling kitten against her cheek, she headed off into the kitchen.
Carmine watched her go. He dropped back onto his bed and rested his chin in his hands and considered what he should or shouldn’t tell Shirley next. He couldn’t come up with a damned thing that wouldn’t end in her tears and misery.
“Carmine,” said Laverne. She touched his shoulder hesitantly. “I’m really, really sorry.”
He sighed. “We’ve known each other forever. Why do you assume I’m scum, Laverne?”
“I don’t think you’re scum!” She paused, as if searching for exactly what she thought he was. “I think you’re a…guy.”
“Sounds like another word for ‘scum,’ the way you say it.”
“Yeah, well.” She plunked herself down next to him on the bed. “In my experience, they’re often interchangeable.” She patted his back. “But I should’ve known better. You and Shirl, you worked out your bizarro agreement and you’re like a real couple should be now. I should’ve trusted that and kept my big old nose out of it.”
Carmine shifted so he could look at her. “You were just defending your best friend. Shirl’s lucky to have you.” He shook his head. “Besides, what I’m doing to Shirley tonight is gonna reaffirm your belief in the scumminess of all guys.”
“What do you mean? You gave Shirl a kitty cat. You made her
the happiest girl on
“Think about it, Laverne. Mrs. Babish?” He gave her an expectant look.
Laverne rolled her eyes to the ceiling, contemplating. Her eyes widened. “Oh, geeze, you’re right! How’s Shirl gonna keep a pet…?”
“In a pet-free apartment building,” Carmine finished. “Exactly.”
“You didn’t get special permission or nothing before you picked out a kitten for Shirl?” Laverne’s voice rose again. “Carmine, didn’t you think…?”
“No, I didn’t!” he snapped. Taking a breath, he added, “It really wasn’t what I planned to give her. You see,” and he told Laverne the whole story of how he wound up with Merry.
When he finished, Laverne’s eyes were filled with tears. “Oh, that is just a beautiful story, Carmine,” she said. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re a real hero.”
“Yeah, well, this hero’s about to break his
“Maybe not.” A gleam appeared in Laverne’s eyes.
Carmine had seen that look before. He didn’t know whether to take heart or run for the hills. “You’ve got an idea, don’t you? Some crazy plan that’s gonna let Shirley keep that kitten?”
Laverne just grinned.
Carmine shrugged. “Y’know, at this point, I don’t care if it involves a trapeze and some midgets. If it fixes this situation, I’m in.”
“Fortunately, it only involves one single landlady and one lonely bachelor pizza proprietor.” She waited a moment for him to catch on. When he didn’t, she sighed. “Carmine, my pop and Edna have expressed an interest in each other, right?”
“Yeah,” said Carmine. Realization dawned. “Hey, you mean…?”
“I mean, I’ll talk to my Pop and he’ll talk to Edna and something tells me she’ll be able to make an exception for Shirl’s new buddy.”
Carmine heard Shirley baby-talk to Merry over the hum of the can opener. For the first time since his encounter with Squiggy, he felt like things might just work out for him and his girl this Christmas after all. “Laverne, if you make this work, I’ll...I’ll…I don’t know what I’ll do for you, but you’ll like it.”
Laverne gave him an impish grin. “Now, Carmine, don’t go making me promises you can’t – or shouldn’t – keep.”
Before he could open his mouth, her expression turned sheepish and she hopped off the bed. “I’m gonna go give my Pop a call. Don’t worry, Carmine. We’ll make this work, I promise.” She strolled out of his room, her clothes still twisted and rumpled from Merry’s attack.
He watched her go. In
another life, maybe….
But this was the life he had and the one he wanted. He stood up, smoothed down his own rumpled attire, and joined Shirley in the kitchen.
Shirley beamed at him as he entered. “Oh, Carmine, thank you so much! I love her; she’s just the sweetest thing ever! And her name is perfect.” She held her arms out to him. “This is going to be our merriest Christmas ever.”
Merry nibbled at a pile of tuna off one of his chipped saucers. Her tail swished in unison with her darting pink tongue. When he walked past her, she paused to look up at him. The kitten said, “Mew” and then returned to her food.
“Not at all,” he replied, sliding his arms around Shirley’s slender waist. “Thank you.”