Mistletoe Murder by Leslie Meier

Author:Leslie Meier [Meier, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780758203373
Publisher: Viking
Published: 1991-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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Christmas Eve really is the longest day of the year, thought Lucy as she glanced at the kitchen clock on her way to bed. It was two in the morning and Bill was still snapping together the dozens of interlocking pieces of the Barbie town house. Everything else was ready. The presents were arranged under the tree, the stockings were filled, and Santa had nibbled his cookies and poured his warm milk down the kitchen drain. The house was quiet; everyone was asleep, presumably dreaming of sugarplums. Lucy went down to the cellar to get the kittens.

She found them all asleep in a pile in a corner of the cardboard box she’d made their temporary home. She picked up the carton and tiptoed upstairs with it. Setting it down next to her bed, she climbed between the sheets and put all three kittens in her lap.

“Time for some exercise,” she told them, and smiled as they climbed clumsily over each other and explored the mysterious hills and valleys her legs made in the covers. She picked each one up and examined it carefully, relieved to find they all appeared healthy, with no sign of fleas.

“Well, what have we got here?” asked Bill, coming into the room and beginning to strip off his clothes.

“Christmas kittens,” said Lucy, admiring the long, lean curve of his back as he bent over and pulled on his pajama pants. “How are we going to manage this? We can’t really put them in the kids’ stockings.”

“Never you worry,” Bill boasted. “No job is too difficult for Super-Santa!”

“You are a super Santa. Did Barbie’s house go together okay?”

“Nothing to it. ” Bill shrugged. “Fifteen pages of directions, innumerable tiny plastic parts, all pink; anyone with a degree in engineering could do it in five hours, easy.”

Lucy laughed. “Don’t expect to get any credit. You know what Toby told me? He says he doesn’t really believe in Santa, but he can’t believe we’d spend that much money on presents!”

“Well, I can see his point. All year long we say, ‘You can’t have that because it’s too expensive,’ then at Christmas it’s all under the tree.” He lifted the covers to climb into bed, and the kittens all tumbled into Lucy’s lap.

She laughed and handed one to Bill. “Aren’t they sweet?”

“Almost as sweet as you,” said Bill, nuzzling her neck. “Boy, Dad sure loved those cookies.”

“I think it’s the first time I’ve managed to do anything that pleased him. I was worried he’d choke on those pizelle.”

“When he absolutely has to, he can say something nice. He’s a lot happier, though, when he can find something to criticize.” Bill shook his head. “It’s too bad. When I was a kid I used to knock myself out trying to please him.

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