That Christmas Feeling. Debbie Macomber

for the stairs, running down to the second floor.

      When he reached Carrie Weston’s apartment, he was winded and short-tempered. She answered his knock almost immediately.

      “Mr. Lark.” Her eyes widened with the appropriate amount of surprise, as though she’d spent the past five minutes standing in front of a mirror practicing.

      “It seems you and I need to talk.”

      “Now?” she asked.

      “Right now.”

       Three

      Carrie Weston was lovely, Philip realized. For reasons he didn’t want to analyze, he hadn’t noticed how strikingly attractive she was when they’d met in the elevator. Her eyes were clear blue, almost aquamarine. Intense. Her expression warm and open.

      It took him a moment to recall why he’d rushed down here to talk to her. Maybe, just maybe, what Mackenzie had been saying—that he was shriveling up emotionally—contained a grain of truth. The thought sobered him.

      “I need to talk to you about Mackenzie,” he stammered out.

      “She’s a delightful young lady. I hope I didn’t keep her too long.” Carrie’s words were apologetic as she reached into the hallway closet for her coat.

      “It’s about your discussion with her this afternoon.”

      “I’m sorry I can’t chat just now. I feed Maria’s cats on Wednesdays and I’m already late.”

      It could be a convenient excuse to escape him, but he was determined to see this through. “Do you mind if I tag along?”

      She looked mildly surprised, but agreed. “Sure, if you want.” She picked up a ten-pound bag of cat food. Ten pounds? Philip knew the older woman kept a ridiculous number of animals. Gene had complained to him more than once, but the retired schoolteacher had lived in the building for fifteen years and paid her rent on time. Gene tolerated her tendency to adopt cats, but he didn’t like it.

      “You might want to get your coat,” she suggested as she locked her apartment.

      “My coat?” She seemed to imply that the old lady kept her apartment at subzero temperatures. “All right,” he muttered.

      She waited as he hurried up the stairs. Mackenzie leaped to her feet the second he walked in the door. “What’d you say to her?” she demanded.

      “Nothing yet.” He yanked his coat off the hanger. “I’m helping her feed some cats.”

      The worry left his daughter’s eyes. “Really? That’s almost a date, don’t you think?”

      “No, I don’t think.” He jerked his arms into the jacket sleeves.

      “She asked me if I wanted to bake Christmas cookies with her and her two brothers on Saturday. I can, can’t I?”

      “We’ll talk about that later.” Carrie Weston was wheedling her way into his daughter’s life. He didn’t like it.

      Mackenzie didn’t look pleased but gave a quick nod. Her worried expression returned as he walked out the door.

      Philip wasn’t sure why he’d decided to join Carrie. He needed to clarify the situation, but it wasn’t necessary to follow her around with a bag of cat food to do so.

      “Maria has a special love for cats,” Carrie explained as they entered the elevator and rode to the ground floor.

      “I just don’t feel it’s a good idea for her to be going out alone at night to feed the strays.”

      So that was what this was all about—feeding stray cats.

      “Maria calls them her homeless babies.”

      Philip sure hoped no one at the office heard about this. They stepped outside and his breath formed a small cloud. “How often does she do this?” he asked, walking beside Carrie.

      “Every day,” she answered. Half a block later she turned into an almost-dark alley. Carrie had said she didn’t think it was safe for Maria to venture out alone at night. Philip wasn’t convinced it was any less risky for her. He glanced about and saw nothing but a row of green Dumpsters.

      They were halfway down the dimly lit alley when he heard the welcoming meow of cats. Carrie removed a cardboard container from a Dumpster and left a large portion of food there. The cats eagerly raced toward it. One tabby wove his way around her feet, his tail slithering about Carrie’s slender calf. Squatting down, she ran her gloved hand down the back side of a large male. “This is Brutus,” she said, “Jim Dandy, Button Nose, Falcon and Queen Bee.”

      “You named them?”

      “Not me, Maria. They’re her friends. Most have been on their own so long that they’re unable to adapt to any other way of life. Maria’s paid to have them neutered, and she nursed Brutus back to health after he lost an eye in a fight. He was nearly dead when she found him. He let her look after him, but domesticated living wasn’t for Brutus. Actually, I think he’s the one that got Maria started on the care and feeding of the strays. I help out once a week. Arnold and a couple of the others do, too. And we all contribute what we can to the costs of cat food and vet care.”

      All this talk about cats was fine, but Philip had other things on his mind. “As I explained earlier, I wanted to talk to you about Mackenzie.”

      “Sure.” Carrie gave each of the cats a gentle touch, straightened and started out of the alley.

      “She came back from her visit with you spouting some ridiculous idea about the two of us dating,” Philip continued.

      Carrie had the good grace to blush, he noted.

      “I’m afraid I’m the one who inadvertently put that idea in her head. Mr. Lark, I can’t tell you how embarrassed I am about this. It all started with an innocent conversation about parents. My parents got divorced, as well—”

      “When you were four or five, as I recall,” he said. He hated to admit it, but he enjoyed her uneasiness. Knowing Mackenzie, he was well aware of the finesse with which his daughter manipulated conversations. Poor Carrie hadn’t had a chance. “Mackenzie also said you paid a man to date your mother.”

      “Oh, dear.” She closed her eyes. “No wonder you wanted to talk to me.” She glanced guiltily in his direction. “Jason was far too honorable to accept my offer.”

      “But he did as you asked.”

      “Not exactly … Listen, I do apologize. I’d better have another talk with Mackenzie. I’ll try to set the record straight. I was afraid she might do something like this. Actually, I should’ve realized her intent and warned you. But I didn’t think she’d race right upstairs and repeat every word of our conversation.”

      “My daughter has a mind of her own. And she’s taken quite a liking to you.” For that, Philip was grateful. Mackenzie needed a positive female role model. Heaven knew her mother had shown little enough interest in her only child. Philip could do nothing to ease the pain of that, and it hurt him to hear Mackenzie make excuses for Laura’s indifference.

      As they chatted, Carrie led him into a nearby vacant lot. He learned quite a bit about her in those few minutes. She worked for Microsoft, had lots of family in the area and doted on her two half brothers.

      The minute they stepped onto the lot, ten or so stray cats eased out of the shadows. They’d obviously been waiting for Carrie. Talking softly, issuing reassurances and comfort, she distributed the food in a series of aluminum pie plates situated about the area.

      “I saw a lot of my teenage self in Mackenzie,” she said when she rejoined him. She looked at him, but didn’t hold his gaze long. “It wasn’t just the fact that my parents were divorced—broken homes were prevalent enough—but I’d been cheated out of more than the ideal family. In some ways I didn’t