Page 12 of SlapShot Sweetheart

Lafrenière nodded and began again.

“Step one, the rope. Step two, we need an element of surprise…”

CHAPTER 5

AIMEE

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

Aimee turnedin wide-eyed disbelief as someone was currently mashing on her doorbell in the most annoying and rushed fashion. If this was her mysterious person leaving a third passage on the front door, ringing and running once more, she was going to break his freakin’ fingers when she finally caught him.

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

*ding dong*

“I’M COMING!” she bellowed hotly, knocking over her chair in a rush to get to the front door to see what the urgency was. As she yanked open the door, she expected to see a piece of paper taped to the storm door once more, and her eyes were focused on the spot where she thought it would be… and then it took her a split-second to realize nothing was there. “What in the world?”

Before her, all along the railing of her front porch, were wax tapers glowing warmly in the moonlight. Someone had unscrewed her front porch light and put candles there instead – blocking off the entrance with rope zig-zagged to prevent her from leaving or chasing them down.

“Hello?”

To her utter shock and disbelief, she saw a shadowy figure in the distance near her mailbox and heard music begin to play as a man serenaded her softly, singing Elvis Presley. Her hand trembled as she raised it to cover her mouth which was currently open in shock, staring tearfully at the sweetest thing she had ever seen. As the song ended, she paused to see if he would say something and saw the figure heading toward a car in the distance.

“Wait!”she called out, her voice choked with emotion. “Wait, please! Who are you?” and heard the car start up amidst rushed voices as she gingerly put a leg over the rope, trying to get off the front porch in the most ungainly manner. “Wait! Don’t leave! Who are you?”

The squeal of tires was the only answer… and Aimee sagged, feeling bereft and so alone as she realized that she would never know who that was. Was it cheesy and corny – very much so- butexceedingly romantic to think that someone had gone through the trouble to do something like this for her.

The poems, the cat scratching post, the songs… what was next?She mused and froze as she heard something, a mewling something, nearby. In her haste and in the dim light provided by the candles, she completely missed the box on the front porch. Climbing back over, she slowly pulled on the ribbon, untying the bow that held the box shut… and gasped.

Inside were two wriggling and mewling kittens and a card. The kittens were trying to get free, climbing up the sides of the cardboard box. Picking up the box, she saw the five-pound bag of kitten food underneath and chuckled. Her suitor was smart and thoughtful, apparently. Setting the box inside, she hefted up the bag of food, blew out the candles, and would deal with the rope later… but that card and those kittens were practically calling her name.

Aimee picked up the tiny little pale calico that was varying shades of white, tan, gray, and pale orange, kissing it gently on the face as the little claws scratched her. She had tears running down her face, touched beyond belief, as she plucked out the little white kitten who had two brown tufts on her ears and a brownish spot on her chin. Kissing it, she put her down, and the two started trying to climb back into her lap once more for attention as she picked up the card, recognizing the handwriting.

It was him… her poet.

For the sweetest woman in the world – may I present two more sweets for you: Donut and Éclair.

“Oh my gosh,” she chuckled tearfully, laughing in disbelief. “Which one is Donut? And which is Éclair?” and the kittens seemed to answer, mewling angrily at her like they had their own personalities and could talk. “Hmm? Which one are you, sweetie?” As one kitten walked off to investigate its new surroundings, she began sniffing the floor pointedly before she squatted, causing Aimee to roll her eyes in awareness.

“Not so sweet, I guess. I don’t suppose my mysterious benefactor left a fancy new steam cleaner or litter box out there too – eh?” she muttered, chuckling in disbelief as the other kitten also decided to make a deposit on her floor. Rising to her feet, she realized that the litterbox was going to be an urgent thing and grabbed her purse. “Do your worst for the next twenty minutes before we lay some ground rules of the house – number one being the litterbox.”

---