Page 12 of Reindeer in the Headlights
“I’m going to miss them when you leave.”
I refused to split them up and give one to Ambrose, much as he may have wanted one. Not that he’d said that. Maybe he was being polite and couldn’t wait to get rid of them and me.
The kittens had lost their mom, gotten separated in a snowstorm, and almost died. They needed to stay together with me. Unless Ambrose wanted to keep both. But I’d fight him for the right to have those furry balls of fluff in my life.
He asked me if I’d thought of names, and I laughed because I hadn’t until just now.
“I was thinking of Crash and Burn.” That was nothing to do with the accident but their behavior in the cabin.
“No. You can’t name them that. They’re too cute, and they’re babies. They don’t know they’re not supposed to attack the Christmas tree.”
The black kitten was batting one of the Christmas ornaments on a lower branch of the tree.
“Okay, fine, those are horrible choices. How about Tinsel and Mistletoe.”
“Better.”
We decided Tinsel was the little boy, and we named the girl Mistletoe. Tinsel wound himself around my legs, and I scooped him up and put him on my lap.
“You’re so good with them. You’ll make a great dad some day.”
Another flaming blush threatened to brighten my face, but I held Tinsel close so his fur hid my cheeks. I didn’t say that the kitten loved him too. That sounded like I wanted us to stay together because of the kids, and it was a little weird.
But thinking of weird brought up another conversation topic.
“I had the strangest dream last night.”
Ambrose reacted as though he’d been shot. He sat up straight and white-knuckled his mug. “Oh, really?” His voice was more high-pitched than usual, and his cheeks were drained of color.
“Mmm. It was really confusing but very vivid. There were lots of shadows and bright lights.” I scratched Tinsel, while Mistletoe inspected Ambrose’s mug. “I was in the woods near where I’d crashed, and the reindeer was there, the one who led me here.”
“The reindeer.” His voice gave nothing away.
“But get this. In my dream, it wasn't just a wild animal.”
Ambrose was sitting on the edge of his seat while I tried to pin down the elusive images. “There was a guy. I couldn’t see his face properly because there was mist and snow was falling.”
Beads of sweat lined Ambrose’s upper lip. “So you didn’t get a look at him and you wouldn’t recognize him again?”
Huh? If I thought my dream was weird, him thinking I might see the guy in real life was odd.
I laughed because I’d made a mistake bringing it up. “It makes no sense. Dreams rarely do.” I paid attention to the kitten while I thought of what to say next. “But I felt as though I was supposed to be there.” Now I’d confirmed the dream was loop-de-loop, because dreams didn’t reflect reality.
Instead of laughing it off or launching into an explanation about the meaning of dreams, Ambrose was very still. I stared at his chest to make sure he was still breathing.
“That was strange,” he said in a monotone.
I’d been meaning to ask him about the reindeer. “Does the reindeer live around here?”
“He’s probably moved on. They don’t stay in one place long.” He was gripping his mug, and I wondered if he had a problem with the reindeer, like he’d knocked over a fence or damaged his car.
He got up and emptied the rest of his coffee into the sink. And with his back to me, he said he’d make breakfast. He was deflecting, but what was it about a reindeer or my dream that had him acting squirrely?
8
AMBROSE
“He’s probably moved on. They don’t stay in one place long.” I was such a liar.
