Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
George stood outside The Toy Chest, his breath forming small clouds in the crisp December air as he watched Mabel through the large glass front door.
She was helping a mother and her twin boys select what appeared to be matching toy trucks, and even from his vantage point on the sidewalk, he could see the genuine delight on her face as she laughed with the children.
One of the boys was tugging on her sweater sleeve, clearly trying to show her something important about his chosen truck, while Mabel crouched down to his eye level, giving him her complete attention.
The scene made something warm and tender unfurl in George’s chest—a feeling that had been growing stronger with each passing day since their impromptu ice-skating date…
maybe even well before that, he thought.
Maybe he’d had that feeling all along, and it was just that he’d finally let himself admit what he’d known subconsciously for years.
Mabel meant a lot more to him than a friend.
George glanced at his watch—ten A.M. on a Tuesday.
He didn’t have any specific reason for being here, no kitten-related emergency or tree farm business that required his presence.
Mabel had Rascal for the day—he could see the kitten on her back in the corner, tossing a ball up and down with her paws.
But he’d wanted to see Mabel. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d had in mind, only that he’d found himself heading here instead of to the farm.
The realization that he’d essentially come here just to spend time with her should have been alarming.
Not all that long ago, George would have scoffed at the idea of shrugging off the day’s work for such a frivolous reason.
But something had shifted in him since that evening at the Christmas bazaar, since their ice-skating adventure, since the moment he’d kissed her under his gazebo.
He felt less… tense. Less rigid. Less incapable of spontaneity, or irritated by it.
He walked in just as Vanessa was ringing up the toy trucks, and waved at Mabel, who looked at him with surprise. He breathed in the scent of pine and cinnamon deeply, before walking up to her as he tried to muster up his confidence.
“What are you doing here, George?” Mabel asked with surprise, although she didn’t sound at all displeased, he thought. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” she teased, and he chuckled gruffly.
“Couldn’t stay away from Rascal?” Vanessa asked with a smirk as the customers left, and George rolled his eyes.
“No. I was just… ah… in the neighborhood.”
“Hm.” Mabel’s eyes twinkled. “At ten in the morning? Getting breakfast somewhere?”
“No.” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering, actually, if you’d like to go on a walk with me. I know it’s a bit spontaneous, and you’re probably busy, but…”
Mabel interrupted him, her voice softer than usual as a smile spread across her face. “I’d love to,” she said, clearly pleased by his willingness to try something new and off-the-cuff. “Vanessa, can you watch the store for a little bit.”
“Absolutely,” Vanessa said without missing a beat, and Mabel laughed. “Enjoy yourselves,” she added mischievously, a meaningful smile on her face, and Mabel blushed a little, to George’s surprise.
“Just let me get my coat and gloves.” Mabel ducked into the back room and emerged a moment later, pointing a stern finger at Rascal as she did. The kitten was a bit disheveled from rolling around, a catnip mouse held between her paws.
“Be good while I’m gone,” Mabel told the kitten seriously. “No climbing the Christmas tree, no hiding in the doll displays, and definitely no messing with the train set.
Rascal mewed once and promptly ignored her, trotting off toward what George assumed was another mischievous adventure.
“She’s gotten very comfortable here,” George observed as they stepped outside into the crisp morning air.
“She certainly has,” Mabel agreed with a laugh. “But honestly, I think I’ve gotten comfortable having her around. The customers love her, even when she’s causing chaos. Usually, anyway.”
They began walking slowly down Main Street, past the familiar storefronts decorated for Christmas.
Without really thinking about it, George offered Mabel his arm, and she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow in a gesture that felt as natural as breathing.
The simple contact sent warmth spreading through his chest, and he found himself wondering how he’d gone so many years without this—without the comfort of someone’s hand in his, without the easy companionship of walking beside someone.
He hadn’t realized he’d been missing it until now.
“So,” Mabel said as they paused to look at the elaborate window display at the Holly & Ivy Market, “what prompted this sudden embrace of spontaneity? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.
I’m just curious about what’s gotten into you.
” Her hand slid from his elbow down to his hand, her mittened fingers wrapping around hers, and George felt a small thrill run through him.
He’d thought he was past all of this, but maybe not. Maybe there was more life left to live, and more love to enjoy in that life, than he’d thought there was previously.
“I’ve been thinking,” George said slowly, trying to put his feelings into words.
“About how much time I’ve spent over the years sticking to routines and schedules.
About how I’ve convinced myself that anything unplanned was somehow irresponsible or frivolous.
How annoyed I’ve been by your pranks,” he added, and Mabel laughed, rolling her eyes jokingly.
“You love my pranks,” she said firmly, and he chuckled.
They turned the corner onto North Street, walking past the neat rows of houses decorated for the holidays.
“I realized that some of the best moments I’ve had recently have been the unplanned ones,” George continued.
“The evening at the Christmas market, ice skating with you, even the kitten showing up when she did. None of those things were part of my routine, but they’ve all been…
good. They’ve changed things for the better. ”
Mabel squeezed his arm gently. “That makes me happier than you know to hear you say that. I’ve always wanted you to be able to loosen up and just… enjoy things more, George.”
George considered this as they passed the diner, pausing just in front of it. “I’ve enjoyed the last week a lot, Mabel. I think I just forgot how to ‘loosen up’,” he added with a chuckle.
“Well,” Mabel said with that mischievous smile he was learning to recognize, “I’m happy to help you remember. Though I should warn you that spending time with me tends to involve a lot of unplanned adventures.”
George squeezed her hand. “I’m counting on it.” He glanced at the community bulletin board next to the diner, seeing the notice for Rascal’s adoption still fluttering there. “Has anyone come forward to claim Rascal?” he asked curiously. “Or offered to adopt her?”
Mabel was quiet for a moment, and when George looked at her, he could see something thoughtful in her expression. “No,” she said finally. “I haven’t heard anything from anyone.” She looked at the notice for a long moment. “It’s kind of a shame, isn’t it?”
“That she hasn’t been adopted?” George looked at the notice and then back at Mabel. “I suppose so, but she’s fine with us until—”
“No.” Mabel shook her head. “I mean, it’s a shame to part with her. She was so instrumental in bringing us together. Together for real.” A smile played on her lips as she looked up at George, and he frowned, although his heart lightened as he heard Mabel say together for real.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked curiously, and Mabel let go of his hand for a moment. He watched as she stepped up to the bulletin board and decisively took down the flyer for Rascal, stuffing it into her pocket.
“I mean,” she said, turning back to him, “that I think Rascal should stay.”
George looked at Mabel for a long moment. “You want to keep her permanently?”
“I want us to keep her permanently,” Mabel corrected gently. “If you’re amenable to that, of course. I mean, we’re already co-parenting her quite successfully. And she’s clearly attached to both of us.”
The idea instantly warmed George’s heart, sending a thrill of anticipation through him that he found startling.
Keeping Rascal would mean continuing their shared custody arrangement.
It would mean regular visits to The Toy Chest, planned time together, a legitimate reason to see Mabel every few days.
More than that, it would mean making a decision together—a small but significant step toward building something real and lasting between them.
“I think,” George said carefully, “that sounds like an excellent idea.”
Mabel’s face lit up. “Really? You wouldn’t mind being a permanent cat parent?”
“With you?” George grinned, running a hand over his beard. “I think I’d like that very much.”
“We’ll need to discuss logistics,” Mabel said practically, although her eyes were dancing with excitement. “Feeding schedules, vet appointments, who keeps her on what days…”
“All things we can figure out,” George replied. “Together.”
The word hung between them, full of possibility. The crowd heading into the diner filed past them, unaware of how momentous an occasion had just occurred… momentous to George, at least. He felt as if his world had just opened up, all because of a kitten.
All because of Mabel.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Mabel said finally.
“What?”
“We’re going to have to spend a lot more time together,” she said with mock seriousness. “Joint custody is a serious responsibility.”
George felt himself smiling—one of those broad grins that seemed to come to him more and more easily these days. “I think I can handle that responsibility.”
“Good,” Mabel said, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. “Because I have a feeling that kitten is going to require a lot of supervision.”
As they headed back toward The Toy Chest, George couldn’t help but think that out of all of the Christmases he’d spent in Fir Tree Grove, this was by far the best one yet.