Frosting Her Christmas Cookies - Alina Jacobs Page 0,17

I have to be subjected to Christmas merriment, and now they’ve made me lose my cat! Salem!” I turned on my phone flashlight, swinging it around wildly. I saw motion as I swung the beam of light toward the tree. From above me in the bare branches, two yellow eyes slowly blinked.

“Salem, come down this instant.”

The cat ignored me. I jumped up and down. It was freezing, but Salem seemed perfectly happy in the tree. He coiled then sprang to an even higher branch.

“Salem! I’m calling the fire department if you don’t come down right now!”

“Salem? Shouldn’t you be yelling for Rudolph?”

10

Jonathan

Morticia turned around and swore when she saw me.

“Are you stalking me?” she screeched. She reached for her purse.

Mindful of her threats about her Taser, I grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t touch me,” Morticia hissed, batting at me with her free hand.

I grabbed her other wrist, holding her in place. “Then don’t tase me.”

She kicked me in the shin with her heavy boot.

“Ow!” I yelled, letting her go. “Just for that, I’m not helping you rescue your cat from the tree. Good luck trying to get the fire department out here. I called them one too many times after Dorothy lit the roof on fire doing one of her art projects. Now they basically refuse to come out here for anything less than a nuclear bomb.”

“Salem!” Morticia called. “Please come down. I’ll buy you all the fish.”

The cat ignored her and started grooming himself.

“Stupid cat,” Morticia grumbled.

“Yep,” I said casually, putting my hands in my pants pockets. “It’s a bitch when someone just sits there and ignores you.”

“I do not owe you my attention.”

“No one said anything about owing,” I told her. “But how about a wager?”

She looked at me suspiciously.

“If I rescue your cat from the tree, do you promise to fawn over me and be super excited when you see me?” I offered.

“I’d rather get a new cat,” she retorted.

Salem made an offended noise.

I clasped a hand over my heart.

“Cruel mistress of the night. She would rather leave you up there, Salem,” I told the cat, who had settled in to watch our interactions. “You will always have a place to live with me, young Salem.”

“You are not taking my cat.”

“Are you going to stand here all night babysitting him?” I asked her. “Baby, it’s cold outside…” I started to sing.

“I’m not cold,” Morticia lied. She was wearing a thin jacket and sweater. She was dressed for fall, not winter. She didn’t even have a hat.

“Where’s your coat if you’re so concerned about the weather?” she asked.

“I never get cold,” I bragged. “One time, my mom locked me outside because she said I was annoying and loud, and I stayed outside in the freezing cold all night with no shoes. Didn’t even get frostbite.”

Morticia gave me a slightly pitying look. But I didn’t want her pity. I wanted…well, I wasn’t sure. I wanted her to like me.

“So do we have a deal?” I held out my hand, rushing on before she could ask me about my horrible childhood.

The corners of her mouth were downturned. Salem made angry cat noises from up in the tree.

“Salem says it’s cold outside!” I singsonged.

“I will say one nice thing to you the next time I see you,” she finally grumbled. “Take it or leave it.”

“Because I am a gentleman and a friend to all animals, I accept.”

Morticia tapped at her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I need a video of you trying to climb that tree,” she said with a slight smirk.

“Oh,” I said, advancing on her, “I’m not climbing that tree.” Then I grabbed her, pinning her hands behind her back, holding her against me.

Morticia screamed and flailed in my arms, trying to kick at me, but I tightened my grasp.

“Let me go, you fucking creep! Help!”

“You’re mine now!” I threatened in my best ax murderer voice. I even threw in a creepy laugh for good measure.

“Let me go!” Morticia screamed, but I clapped a hand over her mouth and started to slowly drag her away.

In the tree, Salem was furious! The cat howled then launched himself at me in a ball of fur and claws.

“Gotcha!” I said happily. “Ow!” I yelled as one of Salem’s murder mittens swiped across my hand. I held the wriggling cat.

“Let him go! Let him go!” Morticia yelled, attacking me with a purse that must have contained rocks.

“Oof! No! We just convinced him to come down from the tree. Nice acting, by the way. I can see why