Hoppy Holiday Homicide

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.”

We all laughed at the not-so-distant memory.

“I'll drink to that,” Mags said with a giggle.

“Wait. Just you wait one second,” Nan clucked. “I want your resolutions. That's right, all of you.”

Mr. Gable stood. “I resolve that this year no one will get injured on my watch.”

“Does that mean the Holiday Spectacular is returning to Glendale?” I asked hopefully.

“Not quite,” he answered with a small sigh. "We’re moving it to Cooper's Cove, but the remaining committee members, those who haven't gone to jail, elected to keep me as the head. And I of course was happy to accept.”

Cheers rose around the table.

“That's awesome!” Mags enthused. “But I hope you don't mind that I probably won't be going next year.”

We all laughed again. My heart remained light, mostly because I knew I'd be seeing lots more of Mags in the months to follow. In fact, we'd already begun planning a family reunion for the coming summer.

“All right, who's next?” Nan asked, looking between Mags and me and waiting for one of us to volunteer resolutions.

“Mine's easy,” I said, shooting to my feet and lifting my glass. “This will be the year I get my private investigation firm off the ground.”

“Our,” Octo-Cat corrected, though only I understood. “And when do I get my lobster roll?”

Mags drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “I don't know what I want out of this year other than to try new things. New things are what brought us together, after all, and I don't think I've ever been happier than I am now.”

"That’s a bold proclamation given what happened on Christmas Eve,” Mr. Gable quipped.

“It is,” she agreed, “but it also speaks of just how much I love my new cousin and my new Nan.”

Nan and I both awwwed.

When the table grew quiet again, Nan rose with her drink in hand. “I live every day like it's my first, my last, my everything. That's how you make life fun, you know. But this year I'm going to be a bit more careful about who I let into my life, and maybe this year I'll even find love again.”

She glanced coyly toward Mr. Gable, who blushed and looked away.

My heart did a giant happy somersault. I never would've pictured the two of them together but seeing it now made perfect sense. I wondered if they felt it, too. If they were already well on their way to something wonderful together.

Yes, the next year was looking pretty good as we dove into our meals, chatting and drinking happily enjoying the good company.

“Ahem,” my cat said, jumping onto the table and flicking his tail ominously. “Aren't you forgetting something?”

Ugh. I had forgotten his lobster roll in all the excitement over Nan and Mr. Gable's possible forthcoming relationship.

“Off the table,” I told him, taking half of my lobster roll and setting it on the ground so that he would leave me in peace.

He jumped down after it, joy sparking in his amber eyes. He moved quickly but not quite enough.

As if from thin air, Paisley appeared and snatched the treat away, racing back toward E.B. with the giant hunk of food protruding from her impossibly small mouth.

“Unhand my sandwich, thief!” Octo-Cat cried.

“I'm sorry, Octavius,” she said, blinking slowly, as she regarded him. “I've been looking forward to this ever since I first smelled these things at the festival. You didn't share then, but it's okay. I forgive you.”

“Angela!” my cat cried, staring at me in horror. “She took my sandwich! She stole it!”

I laughed, unable to hide my amusement any longer.

I tossed him a large shrimp, which he pawed at morosely.

“It's not the same” he mewled.

No, it wasn’t the same.

Nothing was the same as it had once been.

But you know what? Ever since Mags and Mr. Gable had joined our lives, it was better.

I couldn't wait to see what the next year would bring.