“Think you'll ever forgive him?" Charles asked.
“Heck no,” my grandmother shouted, then hacked a giant loogie onto the snow, drawing shocked laughter from all of us.
“Even though he swears he wasn't involved in the murders, he still warned his friend rather than turning him in. As far as I'm concerned, that's just as bad. I'd never be able to trust him again. Not after that stunt."
“You know what? Forget about Mr. Milton,” I said. “He's not important.”
“Actually, I do owe him one thing.” Nan glanced from the street toward the sky, then met my eyes head-on. “I hadn't quite realized how lonely I let myself become since your grandfather passed. Of course, I have you and Paisley and…”
“And enough friends to fill a football stadium,” Dad pointed out with a smile.
“That, too,” she admitted her smile matching his, “but it's not quite the same as having a partner.”
Charles pulled me into his side as we beamed at Nan and the touching news she’d just shared with us.
“So you think you're ready to date again?” I asked, my heart swelling with excitement for her.
“I think I'm getting there,” she said with a sly grin. “One step at a time.”
Chapter Twenty
We spent Christmas holed up at home. Mom, Dad, and Charles all joined us at different points in the day, but mostly it was just me, Nan, and Mags sitting around our enormous Christmas tree and sharing our favorite memories from the years we’d missed out on celebrating together.
Nan, of course, dressed Octo-Cat and Paisley in their homemade holiday sweaters but held her tongue when Mags decided to wear a floor-length khaki skirt with a mint green cardigan set.
I opted to remain in pajamas, because nothing beats the comfort of flannel after a long, hard day—and the one we’d had yesterday was certainly a doozy.
That was Christmas.
On the day after Christmas, Mags finally taught us how to make candles the traditional way. Although I always loved learning something new, I didn’t foresee many more candle-making sessions in my future. The whole process of dipping seemed to take forever, and I had nowhere near the skill Mags did when it came to swirling colors and carving patterns.
She made it fun, though, dropping random facts in here and there and entertaining us with a carefully curated collection of jokes.
I’d wondered if she was feeding us some of the same lines she gave her students back home. I kind of hoped she had.
We continued to eat up every moment together, but as the days passed, I grew sad knowing our time was almost up. I wished my cousin didn't live so far away because she'd very quickly become the sister I never had—and, despite everything, she said she felt the same way about me, too.
“Next time we’ll have to get Nan and Aunt Lydia together with us,” she said with a laugh I didn't understand, having never met Lydia for myself.
“Once we put those two together, all we'll have to do is sit back and watch while laughing our butts off," she added with a guffaw.
A couple more days passed, bringing us to New Year's Eve. Mags would be on an early flight out of town the next day. The rates, she explained, were far too good to pass up in favor of sleeping in.
I, however, balked when I saw just how early her flight was scheduled. “Are you going to be able to stay up?” I asked, having waited for the ball to drop every year since my mom had first let me stay up at the age of six.
“Of course I'm going to stay up!” she said with a scandalized gasp. “I might not even go to bed at all.”
I laughed, Octo-Cat groaned, and Paisley danced, not quite knowing why. All was as it should be in my little corner of the world.
The doorbell chimed, this time to the tune of Feliz Navidad—in honor of Paisley's Mexican heritage, Nan had informed me, even though that little dog had never stepped foot out of Maine a single day in her life.
Nan rushed to the entryway, fluffing her hair as she went. Her normal hot pink attire had been retired for the evening in favor of a sparkly silver dress. She looked like an award show trophy, and I looked rather out of place in my polka dotted pants and Grumpy Cat T-shirt. The latter had been a gift from Mags who said she'd never known anyone who loves their cat quite the way I do.
"Come in, come in.” Nan’s voice carried throughout the lower floor. “So glad you could make it.”
I heard her exchange European-style kisses on either side of her visitor’s cheeks and a moment later they appeared. “Happy New Year!” Mr. Gable announced cheerfully, carrying E.B. in one arm and a large bag of take-out in the other.
“Happy New Year!” Mags and I wished him back.
“Something smells marvelous,” my cat said, perking up from his nap. He sniffed the air and then a grin spread between his whiskered cheeks. “Could it be…?”
Mr. Gable handed E.B. to me and the food to Nan, then ran out to his car for a second load.
“Hello again, little bunny,” I said, conscious of Mags’s eyes on me.
“Hello,” E.B. answered all the while wiggling, wiggling, wiggling that nose. Mr. Gable returned with a triangular-shaped litter box filled with hay and fresh produce. He took his rabbit back from me and set her on the ground near the area he had fashioned for her.
Paisley trotted over, head held high. “Hello again, dear E.B. Do you still want to talk about your feelings?”
Oh, that sweet Chihuahua, always willing to do whatever it took to make others happy.
“What feelings?” E.B. asked, taking a tentative hop toward a piece of lettuce while keeping one eye glued to her canine acquaintance.
“When we met you at the festival you said you were always afraid that others would hurt you. Let's explore those feelings, shall we?" Paisley tilted her head to the side, both ears perked high as she waited for E.B. to share.
The lop-eared bunny nibbled on her veggies for a spell, then said, “No one's ever asked me about how I feel before. Are you sure you want to know?”
Paisley plopped her wagging butt onto the ground. “Oh yes. I want to know everything,” she said, her eyes sparkling with kindness. “Let's start with your childhood. Were you a happy baby bunny or a sad baby bunny?”
I stifled a laugh and left those two on their own.
Octo-Cat had followed Nan into the kitchen and Mags, Mr. Gable, and I now moved to join them there.
“I didn't know what to bring for our little New Year's shindig,” he explained with an infectious grin. “So I stopped by my favorite restaurant and picked us up something to nosh on.”
The logo for the Little Dog Diner was emblazoned across the bag, and scents of shrimp, garlic bread and lobster rolls now mingled with those of the baked goods Nan had prepared earlier in the evening.
Nan pulled each item out of the bag and set it on the counter.
The moment the lobster rolls made an appearance, my cat jumped onto the counter and twirled in three tight circles. “It is! It is! It is!” he cried as he spun even still. “It's my favorite food! Oh, Happy New Year to you, good sir.”
I stifled another laugh. Sometimes it was really hard not to react to the animals in front of others, especially as I remembered E.B. using Merry Christmas as a curse word when last we met.
“Wonderful, thank you so much for bringing it,” Nan said, and I could've sworn I saw a slight blush rise to her cheek. "Little Dog Diner is a favorite of ours, too.”
“I'll get the plates,” Mags volunteered.
"And I'll pour the drinks,” I chimed in.
Nan plated up a nice variety for each of us, and together we retreated to the formal dining room table. None of us were big drinkers, so we shared a bottle of celebratory cider instead.
And although I hadn't known Mr. Gable and E.B. would join us, I was definitely happy they had.
“What should we toast to?” Mags asked, a sweet smile tilting her lips upward.
“Well, first of all, to you,” I sang out. “To you being a part of this family. To us getting to know and love you. And to you surviving the kidnapping.”