I'll Be Home for Christmas by Fern Michaels

out of the parking lot. The officer waited a full twenty minutes before he left. Andi watched his taillights fade into the distance from the kitchen window. The yellow bus was like a huge golden eye under her sensor light. Large, yellow bus. Uh-huh. Okay, Mr. Peter King, you have this coming to you!
    â€œHey you guys, line up, we’re going to a party! First I have to get the location. Second, you need to get duded up. Wait here.” The Christmas box of odds and ends of ribbon and ornaments was clearly marked. Spools of used ribbon were just what she needed. Every dog, every cat, got a red bow, even Rosie. The pups, smaller, skinnier ribbons. “I’m going to warm up the bus, so don’t get antsy. I also need to find my mother’s pearls. I don’t know why, but I have to wear them.” Finally, wearing the pearls, wads of tissue stuck in the two flap pockets of her flannel shirt, pups in their box in hand, Andi led the animals to the bus. “Everybody sit down and be quiet. We’re going to show Mr. Peter King what we think about the way he does business!”
    Thirty-five minutes later, Andi swung the bus onto Brentwood Drive. Cars were lined up the entire length of the street. “This indeed poses a dilemma,” she muttered. She eyed the fire hydrant, wondering if she could get past it and up onto the lawn. Loud music blasted through the closed windows. “It must be a hell of a party,” she muttered as she threw caution to the wind and plowed ahead.
    Andi grabbed the handle to open the door. “Ooops, wait just one second. Annabelle, come here. You, too, Cleo.” From her pocket she withdrew a tube of Raspberry Cheese Louise lipstick and painted both dog’s lips. Annabelle immediately started to lick it off. “Stop that. You need to keep it on till we get to the party. Okay, you know the drill, we move on three. I expect you all to act like ladies and gentlemen. If you forget your manners, oh, well.” She blew her nose, tossed the tissue on the ground and gave three sharp blasts on the whistle. “We aren’t going to bother with the doorbell, the music’s too loud.”
    â€œParty time!”
    â€œEek!” “Squawk!” “Oh, my God! It’s a herd!” “They’re wearing lipstick! I don’t believe this!”
    â€œHi, I’m Andrea Evans,” Andi croaked. “I think I’d like a rum and Coke and spare the Coke.” Her puffy eyes narrowed when she saw her intended lounging on a beautiful brocade sofa, his head thrown back in laughter. He laughed harder when Cedric lifted his leg on a French Provincial table leg. Not to be outdone, Isaac did the same thing. Annabelle squatted in the middle of a colorful Persian carpet as she tried to lick off the lipstick.
    â€œNow, this is what I call a party,” Peter managed to gasp. “Ladies and gentlemen, stay or go, the decision is yours. It ain’t gonna get any better than this! Wait, wait, before you go, I’d like to introduce you to the lady I’m going to marry right after the first of the year. Dr. Andrea Evans, meet my guests. I don’t even want to know why you did this,” he hissed in her ear.
    â€œYou said you wanted a lived-in house. Myra is going to get sick from all that pâté. Oh, your guests are leaving. By the way, I parked the bus on your lawn.”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œYep. Don’t you care that your guests are leaving? I’m sick.”
    â€œAnd you’re going right to bed,” Sadie said, leaning over Andi. “You can forgive me later, my dear. Oh, my, you are running a fever. Isn’t this wonderful, Peter? It’s like we’re a real family. Your furniture will never be the same. Do you care?”
    â€œNope,” Peter said, wrapping his arm around Andi’s shoulders. “Do you want to tell me what prompted this…extraordinary visit?”
    Andi told him. “So, you