Page 32 of Whiskers on Kittens

“Oh! You like wine? How about liquors?”

“I’ll be quite pleased to show you around my home so you can admire my collection,” I promised. “I have this tendency to accidentally bring home bottles with me.”

“Any Maker’s Mark?”

Yep, my poor cop adored his father and had no way to show it other than a brand of liquor. With a little luck, I could resolve those issues. “I happen to have a bottle or two kicking around, and I’d be delighted to share it with you on Christmas. We do a toast, so I’ll pull one out then.”

Easton attempted to stare me into submission, and I waved him off.

“That sounds lovely. My wife enjoys Champagne, although we usually get sparkling wine.”

If I showed them the wine cellar, which had a plethora of everything, I might lose his parents to a state of shock. “I know I have a bottle of Champagne in my cellar that has been waiting for the right moment to crack. I’ll bring it upstairs, and we’ll have it with Christmas dinner. Please call Easton with when you can come, and I’ll take care of arranging the flight. I’ll need some information from you, and if you don’t have your passports or a valid card for air travel, you’ll need to submit the information into the expedited queue. Just make sure you include the right sized photos and your travel date. I’ll make a flight work for your travel date, so you let me worry about that.”

“Would two weeks be possible?”

Two weeks sounded like I could clean house and rob them blind and still make it home for Christmas. “Two weeks is totally feasible. I’ll talk to my house sitter and make sure you’re hooked up for the time you’re there. Do you like shows?”

“You mean like Broadway?”

“Yes, although you’d be seeing them in Chicago.”

“We do, but the tickets are expensive.”

I smiled. “I’ll take care of the tickets, you just worry about making sure your passports are ready to go for the trip. If in doubt, call your son, and he can relay any problems or issues to me, and I’ll take care of them.”

“How can we repay this?”

I fought the urge to laugh. “If you don’t mind landscaping, you can help supervise my landscapers when they come over; it’s almost time for them to start planning next year’s garden, so they’ll be cutting back dead things, checking through the snow for anything amiss, and so on.”

“We garden! We do canning, too.”

I bet they did, as gardening and canning would let them stretch every penny. “You can garden and can to your heart’s content, although I warn you, I have an old school pressure cooker. If you break my ceiling, you won’t have to repair it. It’s a known hazard. I didn’t get to do any canning this year, so I’ll see what’s available on the market. Normally I do some canning but this year was busy.”

While I had done some canning, I’d given everything away to those in need. I wouldn’t betray that secret, else I’d be accused, rightfully, of excessive altruism.

“You wouldn’t mind us doing some canning?”

“The guest house kitchen is yours to enjoy.” I would have to give my vampire friends a call and request the refrigerator be stocked with everything worth canning. “I’ve got to get back to work, so I’ll leave you to your son’s tender care.” I grinned at the cop, grabbed my recent stack of documents, and flung myself onto the bed to escape the table for a while.

The cop turned off speaker phone and held the device to his ear. “Hey, Dad. Yeah, that’s my cue to start doing my share, else she’ll educate me on the error of my ways. Call me when you know the dates, okay?” After exchanging a few pleasantries, which seemed to annoy Easton more than anything, he hung up.

The glare he shot my way promised I would pay for my Christmas celebration for years to come.

“What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, that’s why I’m mad.”

I blinked, twisted around on the bed to regard him, and blinked some more. “I don’t get it.”

“You’re really going to make me see my brothers!”

Right. I’d have to work over the holidays, but I viewed it as a small price to pay. “Easton, I’m going to shove their prejudices so far down their throats they start shitting ethics and morality. They best not put up a fight. I have archangels on my contact list, and I’m willing to use them.”

To make our hits and go on our first robbery and rescue mission, we would need to journey to New Jersey. My hatred of the smelly, humid state resulted in me attacking the dessert menu with such ferocity that Mr. Goody-Goody spent more time watching me eat than working on feeding his virus. Once I finished, I went to the bathroom, stripped, and transformed.

Having a feline temper tantrum might help my nerves. Dragging the cop to bed to work out my frustrations that way wasn’t happening, at least not yet, leaving me with few other options. I rolled around, yowled, and vocalized my displeasure for the world to hear.

Easton continued to eat his dinner while observing me.