Free The Nine Lives of Christmas by Sheila Roberts

Zach was next to her now, trying to make himself heard over the racket she was making.
    “Either that cat goes or I go,” she roared, pointing to where Ambrose cowered under the couch.
    “Babe, just calm down, okay? Did he get you with his claws?”
    She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What do you mean calm down! Your damn cat just tried to attack me. If I hadn’t reacted so fast I’d be covered in scratches!”
    “I think you’re just shaken up. Let’s just calm down and—”
    “Never mind calming down,” she roared. “I want an answer.”
    Ambrose held his breath.
    “Blair, I can’t just turn the little guy out.”
    She pointed a finger at him. “You are choosing the cat over me! Zachary Stone, you are insane. And I must have been insane to get involved with you. You’re nothing but a selfish, immature—”
    “Now, wait a minute,” Zach protested. “I get that you’re upset but there’s no need to start throwing around insults.”
    “I am not staying here another second with you and that … beast!” She opened a door to the closet where Zach kept coats and yanked hers out. “You two deserve each other,” she snarled as she wrapped it around herself.
    “If that’s the way you want it, fine,” Zach snapped. “I’ll bring your tree back this afternoon.”
    Ambrose blinked as she told Zach to put the tree in a part of his anatomy where Ambrose knew it surely wouldn’t fit.
    “Keep the tree and the damned cat. I hope you’ll be very happy together,” she snapped. She grabbed some keys from the hall table and then exited, slamming the door after herself.
    Zach glared at the door as if Blair Baby were still standing there. Then he muttered a very bad word and marched into the living room and grabbed the tree. He hauled it to the front door, sending little blue balls bouncing every which way.
    Ambrose was strongly tempted to chase one as it bobbled past, but considering Zach’s mood, decided it was wiser to remain under the couch.
    Zach opened the door and hurled the tree out into the cold, then slammed the door shut. “I never wanted a friggin’ tree anyway,” he growled.
    Well, well. It looked like Ambrose had succeeded in saving Zach. This was an even better gift than the bird feet.
    He watched as Zach cleaned up after the cougar. The first thing Zach did was gather the stray ornaments into a plastic bag. Then the bag followed the tree out the front door. Next he tossed Ambrose’s present in the can in the eating room where humans threw food that was still perfectly good. If Ambrose had the muscles for it he would have frowned. What ingratitude! Finally, Blair Baby’s clothes went into another plastic bag. Zach put them into the shiny black car along with the ruined tree and the ornaments. Then he drove off. Where he took everything Ambrose had no idea, but the cougar didn’t return and that was all Ambrose cared about.
    Except Zach seemed restless. When he returned home he banged things with his hammer and growled bad words. At night he flipped from program to program on the TV, always changing channels just when Ambrose was getting interested. Did he miss the cougar?
    “Nah,” he said as he talked on his cell phone to his friend Ray. “It’s just as well. Things were getting, I don’t know, weird. It was only a matter of time before she left for good anyway. I should probably keep away from women.”
    His friend laughed so hard Ambrose could hear it all the way up where he sat on the back of the couch, watching Zach pace while he talked.
    “No, I mean it,” said Zach. “I’m fine on my own.”
    Fine? He wasn’t acting like it. Ambrose knew what was wrong with Zach. He knew the symptoms well. He’d experienced them himself when he was an alley cat. He understood the crazy, driving itch that made a guy restless, made him want to sit on a fence and yowl, made him fight anything and anyone to get to a female cat. Zach was getting the itch. People, like cats,