Three Christmas Wishes. Sheila Roberts
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idea?” Jo asked.
“No,” Noel said with a sigh. “But I hate rats.”
“They’re kind of cute,” Riley said. “Anyway, you’ll probably only need a couple.”
“What am I supposed to do with them after this potential buyer leaves?”
“Call me and I’ll help you catch them. I could use some rats in my classroom.”
“I guess,” Noel said. Oh, but rats were so creepy with their little ratty paws and that long, ratty tail. Eeew. Just. Eeew.
Purrfect Pets was indeed open and filled with people hoping to buy puppies for Christmas. They passed a tank with snakes in it and Noel shuddered.
“Maybe we should get a snake, too,” Riley suggested and Noel quickly vetoed it. The rats were bad enough.
Ten minutes later she was the proud owner of two gray rats. (Riley had fallen for a gray-and-white one, but Jo had vetoed him. Too domestic-looking. Noel wanted to veto the whole plan, but she’d been outnumbered.) She’d also shelled out for a cage, bedding for the cage and rat food.
“I can’t believe I just spent all that on vermin,” she muttered as they left the mall.
“Don’t worry. I’ll reimburse you,” Riley told her.
Back in Jo’s Honda Pilot, the two sisters took the front seats and left Noel in back with the rats, who kept making little scritchy-scratchy noises as they paced around their cage. “These things creep me out,” she said, hugging the door.
“My kids will love them,” Riley said.
“Let’s hope the potential buyer hates ’em,” Jo said then groaned. “Oh, my gosh, I swear this girl is going to be a boxer the way she keeps pushing me.”
“A sure sign she’s about ready to come out,” Riley told her.
“The sooner, the better,” Jo said as they turned into Noel’s driveway.
“Want me to come in with you and set them free?” Riley offered as she took out the cage for Noel.
“No, I can do this,” she said as much to herself as her friend. “But I will definitely call you to come back and help me catch them.”
“Okay. Good luck in your mission,” Riley said and hugged her. Then the sisters roared off down the road, leaving her alone with the rats.
She carried her new houseguests into the house, holding the cage as far away from her as possible. This was too, too creepy. But she’d have brought home a boa constrictor if it would keep away the competition.
The house wasn’t a mansion. In fact, it was small, with only two bedrooms. But it had a bay window in the living room and a brick fireplace that she loved using in the winter, with a mantel just right for hanging Christmas stockings, and a built-in china cabinet in the dining room. The lawn at the back of the house wasn’t much, but it was the right size for a puppy...which she fully intended to get once she owned the place and was free of the no-pets rule. She loved sitting out on the patio in the summer, smelling the honeysuckle that grew on the side of the house and working on her books. The kitchen cabinets and floor vinyl were both as old as time. The windows tended to sweat in the winter and the hardwood floor was scratched up, but none of that bothered her. Someday, when she had money, she’d replace the windows and refinish the floor, refinish the kitchen cabinets, and this old place would sparkle like the gem it was. Meanwhile, though, she loved it, and she wasn’t going to give it up.
She glanced around at her tidy living room with the apartment-size, cream-colored sofa and matching chair, the rocking chair that had been her grandma’s, the fall candle arrangement on the coffee table. Ugh. It all looked way too inviting. She couldn’t do anything to the house itself, but she could at least cut down on the cozy factor. She set down the cage and got to work messing up the room, putting away the candles and throwing some sofa pillows on the floor. In the kitchen she pulled dirty dishes out of the dishwasher and scattered them on the kitchen counter. There. That was better. Now, all she had to do was set loose the vermin.
Oh, wait. Did she want rats climbing on her sofa pillows? She put them back on the sofa. Okay, it was showtime.
She approached the cage as if it bore two ravenous tigers, reaching out a tentative hand to the latches on the little door. “You can do this,” she told herself. Honestly, she was a huge, powerful human. They were only the size of her feet.
Rats the size of her feet running around the house!
She held her breath and opened the door, granting them freedom to pillage her place, then dashed for the sofa. Rats couldn’t climb furniture, could they?
She huddled there and watched as the stupid things stood at the door of their cage and sniffed. “Come on, already, get out and do your duty.” What was the problem here? Were they agoraphobic? She left the sofa and crept to the cage, giving it a wiggle. The rats planted their feet. Great. Just great. She’d brought home defective rats.
But no, now one was poking its nose out of the cage. Then, next thing she knew, he was out. With a screech she ran back to the sofa.
Brother rat came out, too, and she sat helplessly watching as they scuttled around her living room, sniffing and exploring. She was never going to be able to leave her sofa. And, oh, how dumb! Her cell phone was in her purse on the hall table. How would she ever be able to call Riley to come over and help her put them back in their cage? Doomed. She was doomed to stay on her sofa for the rest of her life like some poor flood victim camped on her roof, hoping for a helicopter.
The mantel clock told her she only had half an hour before the invaders arrived. Of course, now she had to go to the bathroom. Maybe she could wait until Mrs. Bing came. Maybe Mrs. Bing and the potential house thief would distract the rats long enough for her to dash to the bathroom. This had been such a stupid idea.
She nibbled her lip. She really had to go.
She was going to have to be brave. Time to make a break for the bathroom. The rats were over there, on their way to the kitchen. She was clear over here. She could do this. She put one tentative foot down and then the other. One of the little beasties lifted its gray head and looked at her. Looked right at her!
Eeeee! She dashed for the bathroom and shut herself in. She was never coming out.
She kept her vow until she heard her front door open, followed by the sound of voices, one feminine, the other masculine. Mrs. Bing and the interloper. Suddenly Noel had no idea what to do. Should she stay in the bathroom with the door locked? Ha! Not a bad plan. They’d both try the door and not be able to open it, yet another sign of a flawed house.
“This was my mother’s home,” Mrs. Bing said. “She lived in it for fifty years. As you can see, it has a lot of charm.”
Dear God, please let him be blind.
Footsteps moved from the hall into the living room and Noel opened the door and stuck her head out, trying to hear.
“Windows will have to be replaced,” said the voice.
Yes, too expensive. You don’t want a house where you have to replace the windows.
“What the hell?”
He must’ve seen the rats. Hee, hee.
“Oh, my!” cried Mrs. Bing. “We’ve never had rats in this house.”
Noel crept down the hall and peered around the door frame into the living room. There was Mrs. Bing in all her glory, wearing a faux fur coat over a tentlike green dress that made her look like a Christmas tree. Atop that Christmas tree sat a face like a pumpkin with Chia Pet hair.
Next to her stood a tall, dark-haired man with a body to match his manly voice. He wore jeans and a black sweater and an old, leather jacket and had black stubble on his chin. His eyes were brown. And his mouth...it was lifted in a half smile.
“Those are domestic,”