Christmas Wishes: Christmas Letters / Rainy Day Kisses

Wynn was waiting up front, speaking to the very bookseller who’d banished K.O. from the store.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, K.O. set the book aside and tiptoed toward the exit, shoulders hunched forward, head lowered.

“Katherine,” Wynn called.

With a smile frozen in place, she turned to greet Wynn and the bookseller.

“It’s you!” The woman, who wore a name tag that identified her as Shirley, glared at K.O.

She timidly raised her hand. “Hello again.”

“You two know each other?” Shirley asked Wynn in what appeared to be complete disbelief.

“Yes. This is my friend Katherine.”

The bookseller seemed to have lost her voice. She looked from Wynn to Katherine and then back.

“Good to see you again,” K.O. said. She sincerely hoped Shirley would play along and conveniently forget that unfortunate incident.

“It is you,” Shirley hissed from between clenched teeth.

“What’s this about?” Wynn asked, a puzzled expression on his face. “You’ve met before?”

“Nothing,” K.O. all but shouted.

“As a matter of fact, we have met.” Shirley’s dark eyes narrowed. “Perhaps your friend has forgotten. I, however, have not.”

So it was going to be like that, was it? “We had a difference of opinion,” K.O. told Wynn in a low voice.

“As I recall, you were permanently banned from the store.”

“Katherine was banned from the store?” Wynn asked incredulously. “I can’t believe she’d do anything deserving of that.”

“Maybe we should leave now,” K.O. suggested, and tugged at his sleeve.

“If you want to know,” Shirley began, but K.O. interrupted before she could launch into her complaint.

“Wynn, please, we should go,” she said urgently.

“I’m sure this can all be sorted out,” he murmured, releasing his coat sleeve from her grasp.

Shirley, hands on her hips, smiled snidely. She seemed to take real pleasure in informing Wynn of K.O.’s indiscretion.

“This friend of yours is responsible for causing a scene in this very bookstore, Dr. Jeffries.”

“I’m sure no harm was meant.”

K.O. grabbed his arm. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, desperate to escape.

“Katherine does tend to be opinionated, I agree,” he said, apparently determined to defend her. “But she’s actually quite reasonable.”

“Apparently you don’t know her as well as you think.”

“I happen to enjoy Katherine’s company immensely.”

Shirley raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Then you might be interested to know that your so-called friend nearly caused a riot when she got into an argument with another customer over your book.”

Wynn swiveled his gaze to K.O.

She offered him a weak smile. “Ready to leave now?” she asked in a weak whisper.

Chapter Eight (#ulink_02e9a714-7ff7-5d24-8f3b-2bc988320b57)

K.O.’s doorbell chimed, breaking into a satisfying dream. Whatever it was about seemed absolutely wonderful and she hated to lose it. When the doorbell rang again, the sound longer and more persistent, the dream disappeared. She stumbled out of bed and threw on her flannel housecoat.

Reaching the door, she checked the peephole and saw that it was LaVonne. No surprise there. Unfastening the lock, K.O. let her in, covering a yawn.

“What time did you get home last night?” her neighbor cried as she hurried in without a cat—which was quite unusual. “I waited up as long as I could for you.” LaVonne’s voice was frantic. “I didn’t sleep a wink all night,” she said and plopped herself down on the sofa.

K.O. was still at the front door, holding it open. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Should I make coffee?” LaVonne asked, leaping to her feet and flipping on the light as she swept into the kitchen. Not waiting for a response, she pulled out the canister where K.O. kept her coffee grounds.

K.O. yawned again and closed the front door. “What time is it?” Early, she knew, because her eyes burned and there was barely a hint of daylight through her living room windows.

“Seven-twenty. I didn’t get you up, did I?”

“No, I had to answer the door anyway.” Her friend was busy preparing coffee and didn’t catch the joke. “How are the guys?” K.O. asked next. LaVonne usually provided her with daily updates on their health, well-being and any cute activities they’d engaged in.

“They’re hiding,” she said curtly. “All three of them.” She ran water into the glass pot and then poured it in the coffeemaker.

Katherine wondered why the cats were in a snit but didn’t have the energy to ask.

“You haven’t answered my question,” LaVonne said as the coffee started to drip. She placed two mugs on the counter.

“Which one?” K.O. fell into a kitchen chair, rested her arms on the table and leaned her head on them.

“Last night,” LaVonne said. “Where were you?”

“Wynn and I were out—”

“All night?”

“You’re beginning to sound like my mother,” K.O. protested.