“The greatest thing you'll even learn is just to love and be loved in return.”
Moulin Rouge
Peter Gustafson took a small step back and critically eyed his handiwork. Hanging a wreathe for most people was a simple task. One of many that came with the holiday season. But for Gus, the simple task wasn't so simple. For the first time in more than twenty years he had a door to hang a wreathe on. A door that opened and led into a house filled with heat and comfort. A house that provided security and independence free of the desperate fight to survive from one day to the next. It was space furnished and finished to suit his wants and needs. It was his first true home since that horrible day in Fallujah when the man he'd been had ceased to exist, and the man who'd emerged had been forced to ask himself each morning if life was worth the struggle, and going on living anyway. Having a traumatic head injury made appearing “normal” to those he came into contact with almost impossible. As head injuries went, he could consider himself fortunate as its effects were relatively minor, relating more to his motor skills than his cognitive abilities, but they still affected nearly every nuance of who he now was. For years he'd wandered from city to city, rarely stepping inside shelters, preferring to scavenge for things he needed using skills he'd been taught in the military, isolating and punishing himself for surviving when those closest to him had not. Bitterly hating himself for giving the order that had sent good men and women to their deaths, even though the order had been given in response to bad intelligence.
Gus reached out and carefully adjusted a tiny pine cone that hung from the center of a deep red velvet ribbon. It had taken a week of painstaking work to create the wreathe in the Center's art therapy studio and he felt pleased with the result of all that work. His scarred lips pursed as he nodded in satisfaction. He felt pretty sure he could even hold his own with any crafter haunting the aisles of the local Hobby Lobby.
A tiny sound caught his attention just as he reached for the door handle. He paused, going absolutely still as he waited to see if it came again. What was that? After a moment he again reached for the handle, and stopped when the sound again reached the aids in his ears. Turning slowly and using his cane for balance, he looked around. It was still early evening so some daylight still lingered, and the brightness of the snow that had been falling for the past day lent its own light. At first he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then a movement near the back of a neighbor's SUV caught his attention. His eyesight had also suffered during that horrific attack in Iraq. With the help of his glasses, he could tell there was something there, something very small against the white snow, but it was still little more than a fuzzy glitch in his vision. As he watched, it moved again and its movement was accompanied by the odd sound. He recognized it as an animal's cry.
After a moment, he limped his way to where the SUV was parked, keeping his attention focused evenly between his target and his movements, until he found himself standing over a tiny creature. Carefully he knelt and realized there were three creatures in the snow behind the SUV, but only one was moving. Taking it carefully into his one good hand, he heard it mew plaintively and realized he was holding a small gray tabby kitten. Setting it back down, he touched the other two and knew they were beyond help. Rage filled him but he grimly battled it back and returned his attention to the lone survivor. Carefully he tucked it into a pocket of his heavy cardigan before placing the bodies of the other two in the other pocket, then rose laboriously to his feet and made his careful way back to his front door.
Once inside, he immediately found his cell phone and commanded it to call his grand-niece's number. Moments later she answered with her trademark cheerfulness.
“Hi Uncle Peter!”
“Josie! I need your help.”
The voice on the other end grew immediately serious.
“What's up, Uncle Peter? What's wrong?”
“I just found some kittens outside. Two are dead and the other I think is pretty bad off. I don't know how to help it.”
“I'll be right there!”
By the time Josie arrived, Gus had placed the two dead kittens in an empty shoe box and had the third wrapped in a worn flannel shirt and held close to his burly chest to warm it. An occasional mew would accompany its weak movements as it tried to burrow closer as he stroked the tiny body. It seemed skinny to Gus' thinking, but he thought he remembered reading somewhere that warm milk wasn't as good for cats as was commonly thought. He didn't want to do anything to injure the poor thing further.
Josie arrived with her backpack slung over her shoulder, dressed in jeans, ratty sweater and heavy coat, her dark blonde hair in a thick pony tail and already in veterinarian mode although she was still a second year veterinary student at the university.
“Let me see the little guy,” she murmured, taking the flannel wrapped kitten gently from Gus. After unwrapping it, she gave it a good going over then sighed in satisfaction.
“You found it in time,” she assured her uncle, “He's in good shape, considering.”
“It's not too skinny?”
Josie smiled.
“Maybe just a little but that is easily remedied.”
“How old do you think it is?”
“Not quite six weeks, I would say.”
“What can I feed it?”
She looked at him in surprise.
“You want to keep it?”
Gus returned her gaze with a faintly defensive one of his own.
“Of course. I found it, didn't I?”
Josie ducked her head, hiding her grin as she focused on the kitten. To see her taciturn, battle-scarred uncle undone by something as helpless as a kitten melted her heart.
“Of course you did. Well, regular kitten food will do. Here,” she handed the kitten to him, “I'll run down to the store and pick some up for you, along with a litter pan and some litter.”
Gus jerked his chin toward the door to his bedroom.
“My wallet is on my dresser. Bring it here and I'll give you some money.”
Josie started to argue but remembered how proud her uncle was of his ability to take care of his affairs after not being able to for so long. So she nodded and disappeared into the bedroom, returning shortly with the leather wallet.
“There should be a couple of twenties and a ten in there. Take those.” He watched as she removed the bills. “Get it everything a kitten will need. Do you think that will cover everything?”
“It should.”
“If not, let me know and I'll make up the difference.”
“Okay.” She slid the money into a pocket of her jeans. “Where are the other kittens?”
“In the box on the end table.”
“I'll take care of those for you.”
“Thanks.”
After Josie left, Gus eased down into the Kennedy rocker he favored for his painful back and gently began rocking himself and his tiny bundle. The kitten stirred a little before stopping to peer up into Gus' scarred and grizzled face. After a moment it mewed and began to suck on the finger Gus was using to stroke the tiny gray face and trace the black “M” markings above its eyes, making his scarred lips move into a small, crooked smile behind his graying beard. No doubt about it. He was already smitten with the kitten.
“So what shall I call you?” he asked the little cat, “It needs to be the name of a survivor. A warrior, because to survive what you have you are a lot stronger that you look.” He paused. “But I've never checked to see if you're a boy or a girl.”
He gingerly turned the kitten so that he could examine the tiny butt.
“A girl, I think.” He returned the kitten to its place against his chest. “So, what shall I call you?” He considered for a moment before grunting in satisfaction. “Boadicea. You are definitely a Boadicea. As strong and brave as a warrior queen. You're still tiny but I'm sure you'll grow into the name eventually.”
The kitten yawned then resumed her suckling, kneading her tiny paws against Gus' palm as she did so, and he felt something inside himself settle gently into place. Some essential thing that he hadn't been aware of missing. He leaned back in the rocker, drawing the kitten closer to his chest as he continued to rock. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic creaking of the chair, instrumental Christmas music playing from the music channel on the television, while the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree and the artificial flames from the fake fireplace brought a coziness to the softly lit room. It didn't take long for both man and kitten to drift into sleep.
That was how Josie found them when she returned, laden with bags. Quietly she laid the bags down then returned to her aged pick up and began carrying in the carpeted pole and shelves of a cat tree someone had donated to the shelter where she volunteered. Her uncle continued to snooze in his rocker, the breath of his snores fluttering his graying beard around his mouth. She watched for a few moments, her heart aching even as a loving smile curved her lips. He'd been absent for most of her life but she'd grown up listening to tales of his youthful shenanigans, his success on the football and baseball fields, his big heart and his integrity, and of his bravery in combat. Then one day, he'd simply disappeared. Their family heard from him less and less, then of him only rarely, until they no longer knew if he was alive or dead. And so it had gone until her first year in veterinary school when her father had received a letter from a Veterans Administration hospital in a nearby state. Her uncle had come in from the streets at last and was reaching out to the family who had never forgotten him.
That was almost a year ago now. He'd left the VA hospital there and found care at a VA center back in his hometown. They, in turn, had found him a low rent duplex suited to someone with his disabilities and he had quietly moved in with the help of his family. She nodded in satisfaction. Now just look at him. All warm and cozy in clothes instead of rags, surrounded by all that he needed for a home, and snoozing safely and comfortably in a sturdy rocker. Her smiled turned into an impish grin. Even with a tiny kitten nestled close and purring against his chin. A kitten that mewed at the sight of her and reminded her of how hungry it must be.
The kitten's cry was just loud enough to awaken Gus and he started, his hand tightening reflexively to catch the small animal when it moved in response. Looking up he found Josie watching him with a mischievous grin on her face.
“What are you grinning about?” he demanded grumpily, which only made her smile wider.
“That you two make a lovely couple.”
Her uncle harrumphed but couldn't stop his own tiny smile in response. Then he noticed all the bags and the makings of the cat tree.
“What's all of that? I don't think I gave you enough money.”
“You gave me plenty. I used it to buy food, bowls, litter, and a litter box. The rest were donations to the shelter. I brought some toys I thought the kitten might like, as well as the cat tree.”
Gus rose slowly from the rocker, careful to keep the kitten close against him. It continued to mew and tried to climb the front of his shirt.
“Guess we better get her fed, then.”
“Her?”
“Yeah, I checked.”
“Have you named her?”
“Boadicea. I named her Boadicea.”
“After the warrior queen. Good choice, Uncle Peter.”
“I thought so.”
Picking up two of the bags, she followed them into the small kitchen and the kitten was soon feasting on half a can of wet kitten food in one bowl with a second bowl of dry kitten chow nearby. Josie filled a self-waterer and set it in the corner alongside the food bowls before taking the litter box and pine litter into the bathroom. Minutes later she returned to find that Gus had stowed the remaining food in a cupboard and was stuffing the plastic grocery bags with his good hand into the bag he held with his stiffened one. The kitten continued to eat, its tiny sides quickly beginning to expand with its feasting. They watched in companionable silence as she finished eating, lapped a little water, then began sniffing around. Gently Josie picked her up and carried her to the bathroom where she set her down in the litter box. After an initial inspection of the box, the kitten dug around a bit and promptly did her business before climbing a bit clumsily over the side of the box to begin exploring the bathroom.
Josie left Boadicea to learn her way around and returned to the living room to find her uncle rummaging through the bags from the shelter. He'd already found the cozy round bed and set it between the rocker and fake fireplace, but she suspected the kitten would rarely be using it. No doubt her preferred bed would always be on Uncle Peter's chest, close to his heart, and that was as it should be.
Gus wryly looked up at her as he extracted yet another catnip mouse.
“Don't you think six catnip mice are more than one kitten needs?”
“You'd be surprised. You'll soon be searching for those mice everywhere. Kittens have a magical way of losing their toys in places you'll never find them, only to reappear with them weeks later. There's also a stick in there with a toy on a string for playing with her, and possibly the most fun toy of all, a laser light!”
Josie drew a small cylindrical wand from a bag.
“A laser light?”
“Yeah! You'll love it. She'll chase it until she exhausts you. See?”
She switched on the light and showed how the red dot moved around the room before switching it back off and handing it to Gus.
“I brought two just in case the battery goes low.”
He nodded as he accepted the light. Then he looked around the room.
“Where would you suggest we put the cat tree?”
“In front of a window is always a good choice. If we move the couch over some, there should be enough room to put the cat tree beside it so that the kitten can see out the window.”
It didn't take her long to move the couch a couple of feet to one side, assemble the cat tree and stand it in its place, just as the kitten appeared in the room and continued her exploration. Gus gently lifted her and set her down on the lowest carpeted shelf of the cat tree. At first the kitten wasn't certain what to make of its new perch but before long she had explored it from edge to edge and was beginning the climb to the next level.
“Thanks,” he said in his gruff manner.
“You're welcome. Oh!” Josie began digging in her jeans pocket. “Your change.”
“Keep it,” he ordered, “and donate it to the shelter.”
She nodded understandingly.
“I will.”
They watched Boadicea as she explored the cat tree before Josie reached for her coat.
“Okay, Uncle Peter, she's all yours. If it's alright, I'll make an appointment at the school to bring her in for a wellness check and to get her vaccinations. And you might want to go ahead and have her spayed as soon as possible.”
“Isn't she too young yet for that?” he asked doubtfully.
“Nope. They've perfected techniques that allow them to both spay and neuter kittens and puppies at very young ages now. It's safe, I assure you, and will help her to have a long, healthy life while preventing more kittens like her and her siblings from being abandoned.”
His mouth hardened.
“I'd love to get my hands on the son-of-a-bitch who left them there.”
Josie nodded.
“I know just what you mean.”
She slipped into her coat before going up on her toes to kiss his grizzled cheek.
“If you need anything else, you know where to reach me.”
He nodded then surprised her when he wrapped his arms uncertainly about her in a clumsy hug. She immediately responded in kind.
“I love you, Uncle Peter.”
His only response was to tighten his hold before letting her go.
“Oh, by the way, I hope you're planning on coming to Mom and Dad's for Christmas Eve.”
“I hadn't thought about it.”
“It's not a huge party,” she assured him, “Just family for dinner and a little gift giving.”
“I'll think about it.”
“Please do. If you want I'll pick you up and bring you home whenever you're ready.”
He nodded, still noncommittal, and followed her to the door, closing it against the cold only after she drove away. For a moment he stood there reliving her hug, surprised to at how much easier and less painful to accept than it once would have been. Then the kitten mewed and he turned to find her fuzzy image searching for a way down from her perch. With an affectionate grin, he went to her rescue.
~
In the end Josie had her way, picking Gus up at six o'clock on Christmas Eve to give him time to settle in and get comfortable before the other guests began arriving at seven. A little over thirty guests were packed into his brother and sister-in-law's house and at first it made him uncomfortable being around so many people, but after a while he began to relax. He met the spouses of a couple of distant relations who were also veterans, which went a long way toward making him feel less like an outsider. The family dog, an gentle golden retriever named Lindy, took a liking to him and remained nearby, which also helped lessen Gus' stress. The dog reminded Gus of the therapy dogs that would visit while he was in the VA hospital.
While everyone visited over pre-dinner cocktails and egg nog, the doorbell rang yet again. His brother answered with his customary, good-natured smile, admitting a middle aged woman and a young man and taking their coats before directing them further into the room. Gus' poor eyesight kept him from seeing the newcomers clearly, but something in the woman's fuzzy image was striking an urgent chord within him.
“Everyone,” his brother brought the guests' attention to the new arrivals, “This is Tansy Yarnell and her son, Lionel. Tansy and Lionel, this is everyone. Make yourselves at home.”
The urgent chord was suddenly a loud clanging as his attention became focused on the woman. He wanted to move closer, wanted to see her more clearly. See her for the first time in over twenty years. Instead he watched her accept a punch glass of egg nog and waited as she began to circulate among the crowd. Eventually as she moved closer, she noticed him beside the gas fireplace where the flames danced behind a glass screen, and froze. They stared at one another for a long moment before she approached him, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Gus?”
“Hello, Tansy,” he smiled slightly, “Long time, no see.”
“Gus! I-I can't believe it! You're here!”
She offered her hands, obviously uncertain of her welcome, but he took them in his and gave them each a squeeze.
“It's good to see you, Sweet Girl,” he told her, using the pet name he'd given her long ago and watched a brilliant smile light up her pretty face as a happy laugh bubbled from within her.
“You remembered!”
He nodded.
“Of course! How could I forget?”
She returned the squeezes of his hands but they remained clasped.
“It's been so long.” She paused, her smiled dimming. “How are you doing?”
“I'm doing fine. Much better than I was.”
“I had heard...”
Her voice died away uncertainly.
“I know. It was bad.” He smiled gently. “But I'm fine now. I promise.”
“I'm so happy to hear that. Here, let me introduce you to my stepson.”
She motioned the young man over and Gus realized that he was about seventeen.
“Lionel, this is my dear friend, Peter Gustafson. Peter, this is Lionel Yarnell.”
Lionel extended a hand which Gus accepted and they smiled at one another. Gus immediately took a liking to the young man.
“Lionel, it's a pleasure.”
“Same here, Mr. Gustafson.”
“Gus, please.”
Lionel nodded.
“Lionel has been accepted into the Air Force Academy upon graduation,” Tansy shared proudly.
“Congratulations.”
The younger man smiled, his handsome face alight with eager pleasure.
“Thank you, sir.”
His attention was suddenly captured by the arrival of a young woman bearing baskets of dinner rolls to the elegant buffet.
“Excuse me.”
Tansy and Gus chuckled as Lionel hurried away.
“Some things never change,” she sighed.
“No,” Gus looked down, remembering another time years ago, “I had much the same response when I saw you for the first time.”
Her curious gaze lifted to his.
“You were fourteen and I was fifteen,” he remembered, “It was at a church picnic.”
“I remember.”
“You wore a denim skirt that wrapped around you and tied at the side and a sunny yellow gingham blouse.” He smiled. “You were barefoot and your mom was fussing at you about getting stung if you stepped on a bee.”
“Which I did!”
He smile widened into a grin.
“It gave me the perfect excuse to come to your rescue.”
He winked and was delighted to see color rise in her cheeks.
“I have a confession to make,” she murmured, charmingly self-conscious.
“What's that?”
“I actually just stepped on a sharp rock. I pretended it was a bee so I could get your attention.”
Gus' laugh boomed, drawing startled looks from those around them.
“Well, it worked.”
Conversation and music continued to flow around them as they gazed at one another, lost in the memories they shared. She remembered how he had looked the last time she'd seen him, dressed to travel in desert camouflage. She remembered how proud she'd been, and how frightened. And she remembered the terrible day when she'd received the news of his being wounded. He hadn't come home again, but had drifted away into obscurity. One of the many who had returned from war without returning at all. In the end, she'd had no choice but to move on with her life as well, eventually marrying a widowed father of three that she'd met while attending a class at the college. He'd been a good husband whom she'd loved dearly and they'd enjoyed nearly ten years of raising a family together before he'd succumbed to pancreatic cancer two years before. Now all of her stepchildren but Lionel were grown and on their own, and he would be soon as well. She supposed it wasn't so surprising that she would be struggling with a touch of empty nest syndrome. They had been, in every way but blood, her kids and her maternal instincts ran deep. Tansy had been born to be a mother.
“Did you ever marry?” she asked then bit her lip, wishing she could call back the question. But Gus merely shook his head and smiled gently.
“No. The kind of company I kept didn't lend itself well to relationships.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. It's an expected question.”
He shifted and she noticed for the first time how heavily he was leaning on his cane. Before she could comment, one of his grand-nephews stood up from a nearby recliner.
“Here, Uncle Peter, you can have this seat. I'm going to scout out the dessert table.”
The young man lingered long enough to ensure no one else took the chair before hurrying off in the direction of the buffet tables, and Gus settled gratefully in his place and gave Tansy a grin and a wink.
“Whoever invented recliners should be canonized!”
“Uncle Peter!”
They looked up as Josie approached, resplendent in the most hideous ugly sweater to be seen at the party.
“I forgot to ask earlier how Boadicea is doing?”
“Getting fat and staying sassy.”
“No problems with the spay?”
“None that I've seen. To watch her, you'd never guess she's had surgery.”
“Great! That's just what we want to hear.”
Josie shifted her attention to Tansy.
“Uncle Peter rescued a kitten a few weeks ago,” she explained. “You should see them together. They're just too...”
“Don't you dare say cute,” Gus grumbled, a hint of pink peeping over the top of his beard.
“I was going to say adorable, but...”
“That's just as bad.” He looked up at Tansy. “Ain't nothin' cute or adorable about that kitten. She's a hellion of the first water.”
Josie grinned impishly.
“Which is why you suit.” She glanced across the room. “Oops, mom's calling.”
They watched her dash away before returning their attention to one another. Tansy smiled and moved closer to the chair.
“You always did have a soft spot for the underdog, or in this case, the undercat, didn't you?”
“Well, someone has to,” he groused then grinned sheepishly. “Ah, hell. The damn cat is pretty cute.”
“I'd like to meet her sometime, see you two in action.”
“Best time for that is the middle of the night.”
“Why's that?”
“Because she don't sleep when I'm trying to sleep. I swear that cat does nothing but run up walls and over furniture all night long. Something's always turning over or crashing to the ground so's a man can't get any rest! Josie calls them zoomies, or something like that. I call them a pain in the...”
“Gus!” His brother's voice boomed from the dining area. “We're getting ready to eat. Would you like to have your meal crowded at the table or should I bring a couple of TV trays and a chair for Tansy so she can join you there?”
Gus raised a brow toward her in inquiry and Tansy nodded before answering the question herself.
“I'll eat in here with Gus.”
The festive spirit continued through the evening. Tansy and Gus became reacquainted while still managing to remain a part of the surrounding conversations. After dinner, dessert was served with coffee and hot cocoa as the youngest in the family began handing out the stockings stuffed with small, inexpensive, yet thoughtfully chosen gifts that had been laid out beneath the sparkling tree. Tansy was surprised and touched that she and her grandson had been given stockings as well. She had wondered why she had been invited to the family gathering, as they weren't a part of the family. But after finding Gus there, suspicion had grown that a bit of matchmaking had been afoot. After all, their teenage love affair hadn't been a secret. She met his warm gaze and smiled. Perhaps it had never truly ended. Maybe it had just gone dormant with time and distance. And maybe...
“Uncle Peter,” Josie's voice broke the intimacy of their moment, “I'm sorry but I'm not going to be able to take you home. I've been called to the school.”
Before she could think, Tansy found herself offering to take him.
“Lionel and I would be happy to take you home, Gus.”
“Can't Mom,” Lionel cut in, “I promised that I'd help out here for a while longer. Why don't you take Mr. Gustafson, I mean, Gus, home then come back and get me?”
And at that moment Tansy knew more than a little matchmaking was afoot. Something she wasn't at all adverse to.
“Is that alright with you, Gus?” she asked and hid a grin when he pretended to yawn.
“Sounds good, Sweet Girl. I'm ready to go anytime. Getting pretty tired.”
A few minutes later Tansy pulled into the parking spot designated for his side of the duplex but delayed turning off the engine as she waited to see what came next. Life had long since taught her to take nothing for granted, no matter how promising things may otherwise seem. Gus didn't disappoint her.
“Would you like to come in?” he asked, “I can introduce you to my little hellcat.”
She chuckled and turned the key, shutting down the engine, before climbing from the car. It took Gus a little longer and she waited patiently as he gained his balance and led the way to the door. She noticed that he was leaning more heavily on his cane than he had earlier and hoped he hadn't overdone with the festivities, but there was no doubt that he was in good spirits as he unlocked the door and motioned her in with great elan.
Inside, the house was in shambles.
Toilet paper was scattered in long sections and small pieces through out the living room. The tree was lying on the floor amid spilled garland and scattered ornaments, with lights still blinking. The bowl of nuts from the coffee table had been upended on the carpet. And Boadicea lie upon the top perch of her cat tree, watching them through slitted eyes with tail whipping around in obvious pique.
For long moments Tansy and Gus stared around them in shock before he started to bluster, his cheeks above his grizzled beard turning pink with embarrassment.
“Boadicea, you little pain in the ass!”
The cat merely lifted a paw to her face and languidly licked it before washing her face. There was little doubt that the animal was feeling very self satisfied. Tansy bit her lip to keep from laughing, but lost her composure when Gus looked at her as if to apologize and gales of laughter erupted despite her best efforts. After a moment, even Gus was laughing.
“Well,” he finally recovered himself enough to shake his head in amused resignation, “I guess she didn't like being left behind.”
“I guess not.”
He motioned her further into the room.
“Go ahead and make yourself at home while I clean things up a bit.”
While he picked up the toilet paper, Tansy returned the nuts into the bowl and placed it back on the coffee table and used the accompanying nutcracker to help herself to a couple of almonds. Once the paper was collected and disposed of, Gus disappeared into the kitchen then reappeared bearing two wine glasses full of sparkling apple cider.
“I don't drink alcohol anymore,” he explained, “but I enjoy cider on special occasions.”
Tansy accepted her glass and smiled.
“And Christmas Eve is definitely a special occasion.” She held out her glass. “Here's to Christmas Eve.”
The glasses clinked as they shared the toast and smiled at one another. Gus eyed her meaningfully over his own glass.
“And some Christmas Eves are more special than others.”
She nodded, her eyes softly shining.
“Yes, they are.”
Neither noticed when Boadicea left her perch until she wound her body around Gus' legs. He looked down in exasperation.
“What do you want, cat? Don't you know I'm upset with you?”
The cat merely sat and stared expectedly up at him, purring loudly.
“No, you can't have a treat. You've been a rotten animal and definitely don't deserve a reward for it!”
At that Boadicea once again wound herself around his legs. Tansy chuckled when Gus harrumphed in disgust.
“Oh, give her a treat, Gus, then we'll set your tree back up.”
Several treats later the cat disappeared into the bathroom and the humans began setting the tree aright. Their sense of fun took over as they removed the remaining ornaments then began rewinding the gold and silver garland around the branches. At one point Gus surprised Tansy by looping one end around her neck, and the playfulness was suddenly gone, replaced by long moments of simply staring into one another's eyes, memories of other Christmases reflected there of a time before war had driven its wedge between them.
“I'm so sorry, Tansy, for...”
She laid her fingers over his scarred lips.
“Shh, no need for that.” She moved closer. “Life happened and we each had our own paths to follow.”
“Still, I never should have...”
“Shh,” she said again, then replaced her fingers with a soft kiss. A second later his arms encircled her and he drew her against himself as he deepened the kiss. It was a homecoming for them both.
Boadicea interrupted as she wound herself around their legs.
“Damn cat,” Gus muttered after they parted, and Tansy chuckled.
“Oh don't fuss. You know you love her.”
“Doesn't make her any less of a pain in my...”
Tansy laughed as she unwrapped the garland from her neck.
“Then let's finish it so we can admire it before she decides to show her disapproval with you again.”
It didn't take long before the small tree was once again resplendent in its finery and they were sitting close upon the couch admiring their handiwork. Boadicea had immediately jumped on Gus' lap before finding a comfortable place straddling the space between their laps, purring loudly as she enjoyed the stroking both of them were giving her.
Long moments passed as they sipped their cider and petted the cat. Then Gus set their glasses aside and took her hand in his.
“Can Lionel be counted on to find his own way home?”
Tansy's heart sped up.
“Somehow I don't think he'll have any problem with it.”
“Yeah, I kinda suspected there was a bit of a conspiracy going on.”
“I could call and ask him.”
He leaned down and placed a kiss full of promise on her lips.
“Better make it quick, Sweet Girl. It's past my bedtime.”
Zara’s Bois:
When the powers-that-be make the decision to return a selfish party-girl to Earth on three missions of redemption, can romance and mayhem be far behind? One hot and trendy gay nightclub, two bickering angels and three unlikely p
Crystal Reed thought she had met the perfect man. Instead she finds herself entangled in a web of obsessive love and dark secrets, a world that has become tainted by deception and treachery.
