Holly And Mistletoe. Susan Mallery

first. Then she would find a new apartment and buy a few things. In the meantime she had the store, and that was enough.

      That night, as she stretched out in her sleeping bag on one of the more comfortable sofas, she thought about her evening with Jordan and smiled in the darkness. Her pleasure wasn’t just about how he looked, even though his smile took her breath away. It was that he really took the time to listen to her. No one had ever done that before. She shifted, and Mistletoe meowed in protest. The cat was using her feet as a pillow. Holly could feel the vibration of Mistletoe’s purring through the sleeping bag. The familiar sensation relaxed her.

      “Maybe I’ll take you to meet him,” she murmured. “Then you can thank him in person.”

      Mistletoe yawned, obviously not impressed.

      

      Three days later Louise opened the front door as Holly climbed the stairs.

      “Right on time,” Louise said.

      “There weren’t any customers in the store, so I closed exactly at five.” She stepped inside, then set the large basket she was carrying on the floor. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Mistletoe.”

      Louise eyed the basket. “Is she the cat responsible for Jordan’s injuries?”

      “Yes. She’s really very sweet, but she got scared by everything going on.”

      “Don’t make excuses. I like her already.” Louise bent down and opened the basket. Mistletoe was curled up inside. Her long gray fur fluffed out around her. Big green eyes stared at Louise. The housekeeper let Mistletoe smell her hand, then scratched behind her ears. The cat purred in ecstasy.

      “She’s beautiful,” Louise said.

      “A purebred Persian, and she doesn’t hesitate to remind people that she’s special.”

      Louise stood up. Mistletoe sniffed the air, then stepped out of the basket. Her round belly hung low.

      “Has she been eating too many table scraps or is she pregnant?”

      “Pregnant,” Holly said. “It’s only a couple of weeks until she’s due. I’ve been coming here every night, and I didn’t want to keep leaving her alone. You’re not allergic, are you?”

      “Not at all.” Louise bent over and petted the cat. “Aren’t you a pretty girl? Now, you go bother Jordan. There’s a sweet cat. Yes, you go shed cat hair all over his sheets.” Mistletoe arched into the caresses. When Louise straightened, the animal began to explore the foyer.

      Holly took a deep breath. “Something smells wonderful. What is it tonight?”

      “Spaghetti. I had some frozen sauce. I just defrosted it in the refrigerator, then started heating it about twenty minutes ago.”

      In the past three days they’d settled into a routine. For some reason Jordan continued to complain about Louise’s cooking. So Holly took credit for the evening meal, even though she didn’t prepare it. It made Jordan happy, and Louise didn’t mind.

      The housekeeper disappeared each evening. Some nights she was at the local college taking courses. Other times she was baby-sitting or studying in the library. Holly privately thought she simply left to get away from Jordan.

      “I don’t understand why he’s so stubborn,” Holly said as she followed Louise into the kitchen.

      As usual the housekeeper dressed to attract attention. This evening she wore a brilliant orange long-sleeved silk blouse tucked into black jeans. A gold belt circled her small waist. Her dangling earrings—a teapot twirling from one ear, a cup and saucer hanging from the other—swayed with her movements.

      Holly admired her sense of style even if it wasn’t what she would have chosen for herself. For the shop Holly favored ruffly blouses and long, flowing skirts. They reflected the era of the store but allowed her to be mobile. Fortunately she’d kept her work clothes at the store, preferring to change into jeans before she went home. She’d lost a lot of casual wear but could still be dressed appropriately at work.

      “You really don’t think he’s caught on?” she asked as she leaned against the kitchen counter. The old-fashioned room hadn’t been updated since the early fifties. The counter tiles were alternating light and dark green. The big stove had rounded corners and a storage area on one side. The only modern appliance was the microwave on the counter.

      “Even if he has, why would he want to admit it?” Louise bent over and pulled out a large pot. “This should do for the pasta. The sauce is simmering on that back burner. Just give it a stir every fifteen minutes or so. The longer it cooks, the tastier it will be.”

      She motioned to a loaf of bread by the sink. “I picked that up fresh this afternoon.” She winked at Holly. “I think he suspects I’m doing the cooking, but he likes pretending you’re doing it instead. He gets to growl at me and have you keep him company every night. What’s not to like?”

      “I suppose. I guess I feel a little guilty claiming credit for all your wonderful meals.”

      “If it makes him feel better to think he’s eating your food and not mine, let him. The faster he’s feeling better, the quicker I can get out of here.”

      “How’s he doing today?”

      Louise grimaced. “Pretty bad. The fool got up this morning. The doctor told him to relax. Anyway, he overdid it and spiked a fever this afternoon. I finally convinced him to take an over-the-counter painkiller, and last time I checked, he was sleeping. You might want to look in on him. I think he’ll wake up on his own in an hour or so.”

      “That’s fine.” Holly brushed her hands against her skirt, then stared at Louise. “I have another favor to ask.”

      “Sure, what?”

      She cleared her throat. “Could I use the shower?” She felt her cheeks getting hot, but plunged on before she lost her nerve. “I’ve been living at the store since the fire. There’s a bathroom with a sink but no shower. I’ve been bathing piecemeal, and I really want to be able to wash my hair without having to bend over that tiny sink.”

      Louise stared at her for several seconds. “Child, you don’t even have to ask. Why didn’t you say something sooner? There’s five bathrooms in this house, and Jordan’s only using one of them. Come right this way.”

      Louise marched out of the kitchen. Holly followed on her heels. She was quickly shown the downstairs bathroom, the closet with fresh towels, then handed a thick terry-cloth robe.

      “The boy never uses it, so it’s practically new.”

      Holly hugged the robe to her chest. She’d brought shampoo and other toiletries, but she hadn’t thought of a robe. “Thanks. I appreciate this.”

      Louise shook her blond head. “I’m the one in your debt. You’re giving me a break by staying with him.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late. I can’t have a tardy on my attendance record. I’ve never been late once this whole semester. Oh, and I might not get home right on time. Several of us are going out to coffee with the professor after class.”

      Holly stared at her. “The one so young he doesn’t have to shave every day?”

      Louise shrugged. “Oh, Richard isn’t all that young. He’s nearly thirty-five. He just looks young.”

      “You call him Richard?”

      Louise cleared her throat. “Did I say Richard? I meant Professor Wilson. That’s his name. I’m out of here. Have fun.”

      With that, the housekeeper left the bathroom and walked down the hall. Holly stared after her and shook her head. Too much had happened too fast.

      She set the robe on a hook behind the bathroom door, then went to collect her toiletries. Once in the foyer, she moved Mistletoe’s basket to one side and picked up her oversize purse. Her