The Diva Cooks a Goose

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The Diva Cooks a Goose Page 6

by Krista Davis


  “Argh. You’re impossible!” Marnie threw her hands in the air. “Then let’s set your relationship aside. What kind of woman dates her son’s girlfriend’s father?”

  “It’s not like that. Besides, she’s not the only woman I dated. Can I help it if Beau happens to have a lovely mother?”

  Marnie clapped a hand against her chest and staggered backward. “There were others? You didn’t waste any time, did you?”

  “Good grief, Marnie. You expected me to curl up by myself and whither away? You were the one who wanted me out of the house. Surely you expected me to date.”

  “I thought you would live in a pigsty and eat nothing but fast food until you came to your senses and realized how good you had it with me.”

  “You were waiting for me to come home?”

  “I didn’t expect you to marry right away.”

  Phil massaged his forehead. “That came as a surprise to me, too.”

  Laci wrapped a hand across her eyes for a moment and sighed. When she removed it, she said, “Enough. You two are only making things worse for Shawna.”

  Her parents had the good sense to look over at their younger daughter. Tears streaked her makeup but she had managed to compose herself.

  Beau addressed us. “I’m going back to join my mother’s party now. I’m sure you understand. I trust one of you will see Shawna safely home?”

  I wondered what he could possibly have said to her to help her dry her eyes.

  Phil toddled over to Shawna, hugged her, and murmured something in her ear. He clapped a hand on Beau’s back and the two of them headed for the stairs.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Marnie.

  Phil stopped briefly to look back at her, but he didn’t say a word. He seemed sad, but he walked up the steps, away from his family.

  My dad broke the tension when he said, “I’m starved.”

  Marnie and Mom shot him incredulous looks, but Jen saved him by piping up, “Me, too.”

  Shawna sniffled and declared, “I hate that woman. She ruined everything.” Her tone rose with hysteria until it was a shriek that drew the attention of everyone in our vicinity. “First she stole Daddy and now Beau can’t propose to me because it won’t be special, and Christmas is over!”

  Marnie embraced her daughter and walked her toward the door, past a shaggy-haired young man, who looked on, his expression troubled.

  “It doesn’t have to be Christmas, honey. He can propose anytime.” Marnie shot my mother a helpless look, and I knew she didn’t believe a proposal would be forthcoming.

  Since I hadn’t been to the grocery store, and I’d brought my leftovers to Laci’s, we decided to get takeout from The Laughing Hound and left Hannah and Dad behind to carry it back to my place.

  The rest of us trudged home, the picture of gloom and doom, instead of happy partygoers. After a couple of blocks, Shawna peeled off, claiming she needed time alone to think.

  If it had been Hannah, I would have coaxed her to come home with us, but Shawna wasn’t my sister, and Laci didn’t intervene.

  The rest of us hurried home, hungry and cold. But the second we entered my house, I knew something was wrong. Daisy didn’t rush to the foyer to greet us, and Mochie hissed at us—which he’d never done before.

  SEVEN

  From “THE GOOD LIFE” :

  Dear Sophie,

  My wife refuses to put up a Christmas tree because of our cats and dogs. I don’t want my children missing out on the fun of a tree. Any suggestions on keeping the pets out of the Christmas tree?

  —Troubled in Tannenbaum, Arkansas

  Dear Troubled,

  Put up your tree for two days before you decorate it. That will give them a chance to sniff it and get used to it. Set the tree on top of a small sturdy table so it’s not at nose height. If it’s a live tree, cover the water since it can be a toxic drink for animals. Protect or hide electric cords from animals likely to chew on them. Never use tinsel. Swallowed tinsel can mean emergency surgery or death. Don’t hang treats or toys (especially not catnip-scented) as ornaments. When decorating your tree, always use unbreakable ornaments around the bottom in case someone is tempted to take a swipe at one.

  —Sophie

  His tail erect, normally sweet Mochie stalked around us, not allowing anyone to touch him. We hung up our coats, and I found the problem in the kitchen. Daisy sprawled on the floor with two adorable kittens nestled next to her tummy for warmth. Their noses were coal black in stark contrast to their fluffy silvery fur. It almost appeared as though they wore grayish masks. The most startling thing about the two kittens were their vibrant blue eyes.

  Mochie strode by them and hissed, prompting them to snuggle deeper into Daisy’s fur. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Daisy meant to protect them from Mochie. I scanned the kitchen in disbelief. Where could they have come from?

  Jen threw herself at them. “Kittens! Is this my real Christmas gift?”

  George looked at the ceiling like he was saying a quick prayer.

  Laci glared at me, threw her hands in the air as though she blamed me for buying the kittens for Jen, and immediately said, “No, honey. Now, we’ve talked about this. I’m a working mom and we don’t have time for pets. I’m sure your Aunt Sophie knows that.”

  I wasn’t sure Laci would ever pry the kittens away from Jen. She lifted one in each hand and cuddled them to her. I’d heard Laci complain about the burdens of pets many times, and I would never dream of giving Jen a cat or dog without her parents’ permission. “Sorry, Jen. I don’t know where they came from or why they’re here.”

  Laci edged away from Jen, as though she was afraid of liking the kittens. “You mean they’re not yours?”

  Surely no one in my family would have surprised me with kittens. I squinted at George. Was this some kind of trick to manipulate Laci into giving Jen the kittens? “I’ve never seen them before.”

  George sputtered, “Oh, come on. Like we’re going to believe that?”

  Mom scratched them under their chins. “I think they’re Ragdoll kittens.”

  They were gorgeous. These kittens had never scrounged on the streets. They looked like fairy-tale kittens—born to be pampered. I bent to stroke Daisy’s head, and she batted her tail against the hardwood floor. “Hannah and Jen can confirm that they weren’t here last night or this morning.” Merely uttering those words sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Someone broke into your house?” Mom took one of the kittens from Jen but she looked worried.

  If they hadn’t been so cute, I probably would have been concerned about their sudden appearance in my house sooner. Somehow, fluffy kittens just didn’t equate with anything malicious. I strode into the sunroom to be sure the back door was locked and found a fleece-lined basket with a tag on the handle. The door was secure, so I returned to the kitchen and read aloud from the tag. “ ‘Merry Christmas! We hope you love these babies as much as we do.’”

  “Who signed it?” asked George.

  I flipped it over. “No signature.” Nothing seemed amiss, except for the presence of the cats and the basket.

  George left the room abruptly and I could hear him tromping up the stairs to the second and third floors. He returned shortly. “I don’t see any signs of a break-in. Whoever brought those kittens had a key.”

  Mochie sat on the window seat and watched grumpily as my family passed the darling kittens around. I tried to pick him up to prove he was still loved, but he was having none of it. Determined not to let him see me with the kittens, I busied myself at the stove, putting on the kettle for tea and heating cider. I plopped cinnamon sticks into mugs and wondered who could have left kittens in my house.

  “Maybe they’re from Wolf,” suggested Mom.

  Wolf loved cats and dogs as much as I did, and swung by the shelter regularly to donate food. He was practical, though, and I couldn’t imagine Wolf giving anyone an animal unless he knew they wanted one.

  “He left town yeste
rday morning and won’t be back for a few days.”

  “Sophie, who has keys to your house?” demanded George.

  When did George become so protective? I almost resented the tone of his voice. “Not Wolf.”

  “Mars?” he asked.

  I chose my words carefully so I wouldn’t mislead anyone. If my mother thought my ex-husband had a key, but Wolf didn’t, she would jump to all kinds of incorrect conclusions. “Mars and Natasha have a key. They have to since we share custody of Daisy.” Daisy flapped her tail at the mention of her name.

  “Bernie still has a key from the time he stayed here, but he was at the restaurant.” Then I thought of my best friend and across-the-street neighbor, Nina Reid Norwood, who was used to letting herself in and out of my house. “Nina has a key, too, but she’s in North Carolina visiting relatives over the holidays.”

  “You’ve given a key to everyone in the neighborhood?” George scolded.

  “Just a few people. Don’t you have a key for some of your neighbors in case of emergency?”

  Thankfully, Hannah and Dad arrived with the food. I set the dining room table while Dad struck a fire in the fireplace. “Sophie, I don’t like this business about someone entering your home while we were out.”

  I wasn’t very happy about it myself, but we’d had enough aggravation, and I desperately wanted to change the subject. I opened takeout containers heaped with rosy, sliced roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, gravy, garlic mashed potatoes that smelled heavenly, and a festive salad of corn and diced roasted red peppers atop greens. It stood to reason that an Englishman would serve traditional holiday fare on Boxing Day, but I wondered if Bernie had given us the meal we would have eaten had we stayed at Bonnie’s party, and I said so aloud.

  Dad shrugged. “Looks good.”

  The last container brought a smile to my face, since I didn’t think Chinese eggplant with spicy curry was a British Boxing Day tradition. Bernie threw that in because he knew how much I liked it.

  Our noisy bunch finally sat down to eat. Daisy planted herself at my feet, and Mochie paced in the foyer, where he could watch us and the invading kittens. Laci tried to convince Jen to put the kitten down during dinner, but Jen wasn’t letting go. A compromise was reached when Marnie, who held the other kitten, suggested they were so small they would be very happy in Marnie’s and Jen’s laps. That appeared to satisfy everyone except Laci.

  “Since the kittens are so mysterious, I think we should call them Agatha and Edgar,” said Marnie.

  “Mother! Please! No names,” cried Laci. “Dear heaven, what have you done?”

  Dad asked innocently, “What’s the problem?”

  George cut a piece of roast beef on his plate. “Once you name them, you’re stuck with them.”

  “I think they should be Alice and Jasper,” said Jen.

  Mom smiled at her only grandchild. “Those are charming names, sweetheart.”

  George flashed Mom a look. “Don’t get excited, they’re from her favorite movie and they’re vampires.”

  “Vampires! I never let my children watch movies about vampires.”

  Hannah laughed aloud. “So sad but true. We had to sneak to see them.”

  We were all chuckling when the knocker on my front door sounded. I rose and opened it to Shawna, whose face was stained from tears.

  I showed her into the dining room.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” asked Marnie. “Did something else happen?”

  “Since I knew Beau was at the restaurant, I walked by his apartment and let myself in.”

  “Shawna! You didn’t!” It was Laci who scolded her sister. Marnie didn’t seem at all disturbed by Shawna’s behavior and waited to hear more.

  “I have a key, Laci. It’s not like I was breaking in.”

  “Then why bother doing it? You were up to no good and you know it.” Laci shook a finger at Jen. “Don’t ever do that. It’s wrong. Do you understand?”

  “In November, I accidentally found an engagement ring in Beau’s sock drawer.”

  Marnie looked so sad for her daughter that I thought she might start crying.

  “And now it’s gone.”

  EIGHT

  From “Ask Natasha” :

  Dear Natasha,

  Every year I say I’m going to get a jump-start on Christmas so I won’t be so far behind and have too much to do. Is it tacky to put up the tree before Thanksgiving?

  —Pooped in Pilgrim, Texas

  Dear Pooped,

  The time to start is the day after Christmas! The very first thing to do on Boxing Day is start your shopping list for next Christmas and take advantage of the sales. If you follow my plan for organizing throughout the year, you’ll have plenty of time to put up your tree after Thanksgiving.

  —Natasha

  “Gone?” said Marnie. “Did you search thoroughly?”

  “Mom!” protested Laci. “You two are the worst examples for Jen!”

  It was my mom who weighed in with a less agitated voice. “He could have had it with him today. Maybe he meant to pop the big question, but his mother’s announcement got in the way.”

  “Do you really think so?” Color returned to Shawna’s complexion. “Aaugh.” She moaned and clapped her hands to her face. “I shouldn’t have run out. I bet he was going to propose right after Bonnie’s announcement. What a fool I was.” She took a seat, reached for the potatoes, and heaped them on her plate. “That’s a relief. I’m meeting him later today. I bet he’ll propose then! It won’t be the same as if he’d proposed at the party, but the important thing is to get that ring on my finger so we can plan a June wedding.”

  Marnie’s spirits didn’t appear to improve, and I had a feeling she wasn’t buying that explanation. I had doubts, too. Somehow, I didn’t think Shawna found the ring accidentally in the first place. She and Marnie didn’t seem to have any qualms about snooping. I couldn’t point fingers, though, since I came from a family of snoopers.

  “Wonderful.” Mom winked at Shawna. “As I recall, Laci and George wanted to buy a few Christmas gifts to make up for the ones that were stolen. I thought Grandpa and Jen might walk Daisy while the rest of us get groceries. Then we can have a cozy dinner here tonight.”

  “Fine by me, but I have a meeting at six.” Under the circumstances, I didn’t think I should reveal that it was with Bonnie.

  “I need to do a little shopping, too. I’d like to go to the mall with the kids,” said Marnie. “You don’t mind if I skip the grocery expedition, do you?”

  No one said anything in response, so I guessed that Mom and Hannah were stuck with the grocery run. Hannah would be less than thrilled about that.

  Five o’clock rolled around before I knew it, and truth be told, I was delighted to stroll with Dad, Jen, and Daisy, at least for the first leg of their walk. We’d left the mysterious kittens safely confined to an upstairs bedroom, so we wouldn’t have to worry about Mochie. He seemed much more relaxed when he was the king of the kitchen again, but I knew he would soon discover that the kittens hadn’t gone far.

  Dainty bits of snow drifted in the air as we walked. The wind had ceased entirely, but the temperature was dropping, making more snow likely. The crisp air stung my face, but I was too busy exclaiming over bright Christmas lights with Dad and Jen to care.

  The ancient brick sidewalks and historic houses of Old Town simmered with a magical quality. Candles burned in nearly every window, especially in the high dormer windows in attic rooms. Tiny white lights sparkled in trees and on bushes, and snow dusted pines and evergreens that graced front doors, as though Mother Nature had added to the festivity.

  I was sorry to have to leave my family and miss the boats on the Potomac that had been strung with Christmas lights, but I dutifully peeled off and headed east toward Bonnie’s house.

  I had walked only one block when I spied a strikingly familiar figure. Wrapped in a leather bomber jacket, with a muffler around his neck, and wearing a bulky Elmer Fudd-type hat, George’s ne
ighbor, Forrest Chadwick, stood outside an empty storefront.

  “Well, hello!” I said. “What are you doing in Old Town?”

  Forrest blinked a couple of times. I thought perhaps he didn’t recognize me away from George’s house. “Sophie Winston? George’s sister. We ate Christmas dinner together yesterday.”

  “Of course! I’m sorry. I was deep in thought—elsewhere. You know?”

  I understood completely.

  He glanced up and down the street. “Pretty quiet out tonight.”

  “I guess people are still celebrating the holidays—and it is cold out.”

  He didn’t reply, and a horrible, awkward moment passed. I finally blurted out, “Any word on the Christmas-gift thief?”

  “They’re still looking for him, them ... whoever. I don’t think they have the first clue, but that doesn’t stop Ginger from calling the police every couple of hours to pester them.” He forced a smile. “I’d better not hold you up. It’s freezing out here.”

  I said good-bye and continued on my way, but when I reached the end of the block, I glanced back. Forrest hadn’t moved on. He still stood in front of the building where I’d first seen him. I wondered if he was waiting for someone.

  I walked on—another two blocks to Bonnie’s house. One of the older homes like mine, it sported a historic plaque by the door. I could have picked it out simply by virtue of the holiday decor. Bonnie had been in candy mode with her Christmas decorations this year. Like her sugarplum decor at the party, she’d attached ribbon candies to the wreaths on her doors and windows. I wondered if they wouldn’t disintegrate in the wet weather. Could they be made of plastic?

 

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