On December 19th, Noelle was aglow with excitement as she and Nick dressed for the party. While Nick stuffed himself into his tuxedo and wrestled with his collar studs, Noelle wrestled with her Spanx and stuffed herself into her new, emerald green sequined party dress.
“Zip me, will you, Nicky?” she said breathlessly.
Nick dutifully zipped while Noelle sucked in her stomach. She preened in front of the cheval mirror, turning this way and that as she smoothed the dress over her hips.
“Don’t forget your cummerbund,” she said as he reached for his jacket.
Nick cast a jaundiced eye at the red and green plaid taffeta cummerbund. It always fell right where his girth was the greatest.
“I’d rather not.”
“Of course, you’re going to wear it,” Noelle said as she crossed the room to her dressing table. She sat down with a flounce and looked sternly at his reflection in the mirror.
At that moment, something rose up in Nick. In a matter of hours, he would never have to wear a tuxedo again. Why should he knuckle under tonight and wear that ridiculous sash?
“No, I’m not,” he said, staring her down in the mirror.
Noelle’s amber eyes widened. “What’s gotten into you, Nicky? You always wear it. The green in it matches my dress perfectly. Put that cummerbund on right this minute!”
“No.” It surprised him how steady his voice was, how strong and masterful. As he gazed at their reflections in the dressing table mirror, he thought he looked taller somehow.
“But Nicky, you have to wear it.”
Nick’s chest swelled, straining against his shirt buttons. His heart, suffused with courage, felt like it had grown at least two sizes. Once again, the word came out steady and sure.
“No.”
Her mouth dropped open, For once, Nick thought smugly, she was at a loss for words. Nick watched as she arranged her mouth into a pout.
“But it’s perfect. Don’t you want things to be perfect tonight?”
“It will be perfect for me if I don’t wear the cummerbund.”
“Oh, all right,” Noelle said, with a toss of her head. “Have it your way.”
“I believe I will.” Nick shrugged into his jacket and buttoned it to emphasize the point that his paunch would not be on display that evening.
Nick was almost out the door when Noelle called out after him.
“Oh, Nicky! Since I’m still getting ready, you’ll have to put Baby in the laundry room and give him his Christmas treat.”
Nick gritted his teeth. Baby was hers. Why should he have to lure that corpulent cat into the laundry room, sneezing the whole way, and ply the creature with caviar? But then, since this would be Baby’s last Christmas under his roof, Nick decided he could be magnanimous.
“Of course, dear,” Nick said. He patted his pockets as he left the bedroom. One held the handkerchief that he would need to deal with his cat allergy. The other held the catnip mouse, tucked into a baggie to keep Baby from smelling it before the crucial moment.
In the kitchen, Nick filled a small bowl with expensive globules of caviar. Baby led the way to the laundry room, lashing his tail as he went.
“Enjoy it while you can, you menace,” Nick said as he set the bowl on the floor. “It’s the pound for you tomorrow. They’ve never even heard of caviar there.”
Baby lifted his head from the bowl and fixed his eyes on Nick. Their green depths glowed in the shadow cast by the washing machine. He closed and opened his eyes in a slow, deliberate blink, as if to say, “We’ll just see about that.” Nick stiffened his spine against the chill that threatened to run down his back.
“Indeed we will,” he assured Baby as he firmly shut the door.