Christmas Eve

Mom and Dad decided to take an impromptu trip to Hawaii with Dad's Christmas bonus, and swung Evelyn and Grandpa right along with them, so I was stuck in Maine and, as Molly so wittingly put it,

"All alone with your wittle boyfwiend~!"

Thank heavens we were no longer in the same state as each other.

Andrei's klan had hosted the evening festivities at one of their homes, and we were just getting back to my place and I was complaining how brutally cold it was, when we encountered Frankie slinking her way through our ankles on the way in.

"What's up, girl? We haven't seen you since Thanksgiving, you're lookin' nice and big--" I dropped down to run my hand over her back, when I noticed Andrei frowning at the alley cat,

"Andrei, what's wrong?"

He hunched down and leaned over the cat, too, sniffing.

"Sammy, I think we're going to see little Frankies very soon."

I dropped my keys.

"What?!"

_________________________________________________________________________________

It was almost midnight, and I was running around the kitchen like a chicken with its head chopped off.

Appetizing, I know.

We'd called the vet, but it had been almost eleven, and it was closed for the holidays. Andrei rattled off things to grab as he held a surprisingly calm Frankie in his lap, crisscross on the linoleum kitchen floor. Frankie, apparently, had deemed him a better midwife than myself. Thinking about it, rightfully so. I'd barely passed Anatomy 101.

Grabbing a big, shallow Amazon box from the recycling, a heating pad, old t-shirts from the rag closet, and a bunch of paper towels, I lined the box, laying the heating pad below the shirts and the paper towels on top of those, with a few extras on the side. Just in case.

He laid Frankie down in the box and turned the pad on low.

He searched something up on his phone, then read off another list of things for me to grab, and I ran to it.

Large plastic bag—I grabbed extras in case, dental floss, and scissors in hand, I laid them on a towel next to the box and sat crisscross next to him on the floor.

And promptly began to sneeze.

"Sammy, go take your medicine." He urged.

"But I don't want to fall asleep! I don't want you to help all by yourself!" I whined, a bit of wheedling in my tone.

He grinned, and pinched my cheek.

I scowled at him.

"We bought soda at the store this week, remember? Have one of those, too."

I sighed, nodded, and grabbed a Coke from the fridge. Popping a benadryl out of the package, I knocked it back with a swig of the Coke and almost choked.

Coughing, I leaned over the sink and held my palm over my nose and mouth. Soda burned going up the nose.

"Sammy?"

I waved my hand at him, gesturing I was fine, and took another sip, this time a bit more careful.

Sitting back down, I leaned against the cabinetry, soda in hand.

"The contractions have started." I heard Andrei whisper.

I looked down and saw a heaving Frankie, laying down on the heated section of the box.

"Can we do anything?"

He shook his head.

"It's all up to her now."

We watched Frankie breathe heavily through the contractions. I sat there jiggling my knee, trying to keep myself calm and awake. Andrei noticed and rested his hand on my thigh. I looked up at him, and he smiled gently at me, squeezing his hand ever so slightly.

I smiled back, feeling a bit calmer, and rested my head on his shoulder.

Suddenly, Andrei tensed, and I sat up straight, focusing back on Frankie. She was starting to tense now, her stomach muscles rippling.

I got up on my knees, and held my fists tightly against them as I watched her, anxious for the little alley cat.

Pretty soon, a wet, furry bean—miniscule in size—was pushed into existence. Transfixed, I watched as Frankie snipped the kit's umbilical cord and licked the fluid from her kit. Pretty soon, the contractions started again, and within the next half hour, another furry bean appeared. After that, it was a longer wait. But, after three quarters of an hour, we finally met the last, tiny kitten.

Caring for her kittens splendidly, Frankie cleaned up the afterbirth like a pro, and nosed her kits to her belly so they could eat.

Fascinated, I watched the three different colored kittens feed and mewl in the tiniest voices I'd ever heard. One black like Frankie, one tabby, and one a dark, mottled calico, I decided to name them—in honor of the holiday of their birth, of course—Frankincense, Gold, and Myrrh.

Judging the new litter to be just fine and dandy, Andrei grabbed the supplies we didn't use and got to his feet. Yawning and stretching from side to side, my back cracked.

Andrei laughed,

"Can you stand? Are you broken now?"

I rolled my eyes with a smile, rose to my feet, then started to exaggeratedly stagger and stumble over to the couch.

"Oh no, what's happening to me? I think I've lost all feeling in my legs!"

With dramatic flair, I threw myself onto the cushions. Then, I raised a limp hand into the air, so all Andrei could see from the kitchen was my hand.

"Help me, minion, I think I've become an invalid."

I wiggled the hand.

He belted out another laugh and came over to my side. He pulled on my arm, and I made sure to stay as limp as possible till the last second, when I pulled back. Andrei buckled and collapsed over my prone position on the couch. He barely saved me from being crushed to death when he shot his arms out to either side of my head. His left knee landed, wedged between mine.

"Zaebis', I wasn't ready." He muttered, grinning.

I cackled gleefully, then held out my arms wide,

"Carry me, minion. I'm too tired to move."

He chuckled, and mumbled something distinctly Russian under his breath.

"Hm? What was that?" I asked, sarcastically. He shook his head, smiling, and slipped his arms under my back and knees, respectively,

"Nothing, my lady."

I wound my arms around his neck as he tromped up the stairs. Laying me gently down on the bed, he carefully slipped off my slipper boots and tucked my legs under the coverlet. He pulled the covers up to my chin, then turned to go. Before I realized it, my hand had snatched the corner of his sleeve.

He stopped, not pulling away, but not moving closer.

"Sammy?"

"It's dark outside."

"Yes?"

"And it's cold."

"And?"

"And you should stay. Here, with me."

"Sammy, are you sure?"

I flipped the other side of the covers over, exposing my fleece-covered legs to the cold again,

"Yes, dammit, I'm sure. Now get in here, I'm freezing."

He chuckled, slipped off his shoes, and climbed in. Once he was settled, I wiggled closer to him to mooch off his body temperature. He turned onto his side to face me, and I grinned at him when our eyes met. His own twinkled back, and he laid his arm over my waist.

All was good and well, and I could feel the tides of dreamland pulling me in when I felt a physical pull from none other than Mr. Selkie boy, here. I opened my eyes and scowled at him. The dolt shrugged at me. I pointed a finger at him,

"I only invited you to sleep here, buddy. Don't get any funny ideas, now."

The cad used the arm from my waist to grab the hand I used to point and leaned forward to kiss the back of it lightly, keeping eye contact the entire time,

"None of my ideas are funny, Sammy."

I reddened and hurriedly yanked the covers over my face, successfully breaking his hold.

"Go to sleep! We'll check on the kittens in the morning."

He chuckled and laid his arm over my waist again,

"Good night, moye serdtse."

He whispered, kissing the blanket over my head. I was already drifting off to sleep when I replied,

"Good night, my love." I'm not sure, but I felt like I heard a hiss, then a stream of something heated in Russian, and someone pulled me very close and held me tightly. I could have been dreaming, though.