The Christmas Cat by Melody Carlson

reflected in the shining puddles, doubling the effects of the rainbows of light. Even the inflated vinyl Santa standing next to the giant anchor had a certain charm. For some reason everything looked better to him now.

9

    T he next morning, Garrison was surprised to hear someone knocking at the back door. It was barely seven. He hurried past where Oreo and Harry were already waiting for breakfast and pulled open the door. “Ruby?” he peered curiously at his bathrobe-clad neighbor. “What are you doing out this early?”
    She held out what looked like a covered plate. “Breakfast,” she told him with a wide grin.
    “Seriously?” He moved back, welcoming her into the house. “What did I do to deserve this?”
    “Just being neighborly,” she said as she set the oversized plate on the kitchen table, proudly removing the cover. “Ham and eggs. Biscuits and gravy. And grits.”
    His eyes opened wide and his mouth started to water. “Grits?”
    She nodded knowingly.
    “I haven’t had grits in years.” He smiled at her. “Not since I lived here and used to sneak over to eat them from your table.”
    “That’s what I figured.” She pulled out a chair. “Go ahead, eat it while it’s hot.”
    “Don’t mind if I do.” He sat down and she handed him silverware from the drawer.
    “Dig in and enjoy, Garrison.”
    “What about your breakfast?” he asked as he stuck his spoon into the grits.
    “I already ate. Don’t mind me. I’ll just make us some coffee.”
    “Why are you being so nice to me, Ruby?”
    “Just being neighborly,” she said again. “Neighbors helping neighbors. That’s what we do around here.”
    “Uh-huh.” He nodded as he chewed a bite of ham, watching her with suspicion. She was up to something and he knew it. But whatever it was, he didn’t think he cared. He hadn’t had a breakfast this good in—years!
    He was just finishing up the grits when she set a mug of steaming coffee in front of him. She had a cup of her own and sat down with a humph across from him. “Well, how do you like it? Can Ruby still cook grits or not?”
    “Oh yeah,” he murmured contentedly. “No doubt about it. Ruby still can.”
    She chuckled, then sipped her coffee.
    He was almost done with the biscuits and gravy when she cleared her throat. “Elliott came by last night.”
    “Your house?”
    “Yeah. He spent the night. Still sleeping.”
    “Uh-huh?”
    “I could hardly sleep myself last night. Fretting and worrying over that boy. He’s broke with no place to go. Down and out. I just don’t know what’s to become of him.” She sighed. “His clothes were filthy. I’ve already run them through the washer twice. Once last night. And again this morning. Don’t know if they’ll ever come clean.”
    “Clothes can be replaced.” He pushed the empty plate aside and reached for his coffee.
    “I know that.” She gave him an exasperated look. “But grandsons cannot.”
    “Yeah.” He nodded. “That’s true.”
    “So I got myself to thinking . . . in the middle of the night . . . after I spent more’n an hour praying to the good Lord to do something about this. I got to thinking that maybe there’s something we can do right here. Right under our noses.”
    “What would that be?”
    “Well, I know you’re working real hard to fix up Lilly’s house. And I got to thinking maybe you could use a spare set of hands.” She leaned forward. “Elliott’s a strong boy. He can work hard when he sets his mind on it. I thought if he could come over here and help out, well, maybe it would do both you and him some good. What d’you think?”
    He chuckled. “I think this breakfast was a bribe.”
    “Not a bribe exactly. But I thought it might get your undivided attention.” She pointed to the empty plate. “Looks like it did too.”
    “And I’m not complaining either.” He smiled at her. “But you didn’t need to bring me breakfast, Ruby. I’m happy to hire Elliott. I really could use