My heart stopped. What could it be? Was something wrong? Or did he want to make sure that Crystal knew we were just friends?

"What?"

"Her dream is to have a greenhouse someday, and we could give her that now. It will keep her busy and give her something to keep her mind occupied while she's waiting for the baby. I figure we could attach one end to the shop and build it to the south. That way she'd have it right close to the house"

I'd been so busy with the holiday preparations, I'd given little thought to actually acting on what Billy Lee had called her passion.

"What do you think? Or have I overstepped my boundaries?" he asked.

"I think you're a genius. It's a wonderful idea. When can we start, and is this the right time of year to do that? But would you mind having the greenhouse on your property?"

"I've got plenty of room for it. She can get started and begin lining up clients to sell to all year round, and she can do even more in the spring when people want to come straight to a greenhouse for their bedding plants. I did a lot of research online last night, and I've already drawn up some plans for her to look at. The only thing is, I don't know if ... if . . ." He stammered, and his voice trailed off.

"Yes?" I asked, mystified.

"I've always wanted a family, Trudy," he blurted. "Gert was like my grandmother. Even though I'm not Crystal's father, would you be willing to share? May I at least be her friend and help her out in this way?"

"Share what?" Crystal asked sleepily from the doorway.

"You," I answered honestly. "Billy Lee and I would like to share in your future. How would you like to start building a greenhouse next door?"

That opened her big blue eyes wide, and they glittered like the lights on the Christmas tree. Her passion was digging in dirt, Billy Lee had discovered. His was working with woodand making miracles. I think I found mine late the night before, when I couldn't fall asleep and actually wrote down the story of the Christmas of the Slug. It would be great if someday I actually wrote something that would sell, but if I never wrote for anyone but my daughter, that was all right too.

Brochures and a sketchbook were spread out over the kitchen table. It was day one of the planning stage. Crystal had visions of hothouse orchids and begonias dancing in her head. Billy Lee was designing and erasing as she told him what she had learned in her horticulture classes.

I sat in front of the cabinets on the kitchen floor discovering some of the aftereffects of being raised during the Great Depression. Aunt Gert had saved absolutely everything. I was sorting through stacks and stacks of plastic margarine containers, along with anything else that had a lid on it. The trash cans were still crammed to capacity from the Christmas detritus the garbage truck hadn't yet picked up on its holiday schedule, so the big black bag I was filling up would have to be stored in the garage until we could make a run to the dump. I stood up with a moan.

.,You want me to take that out?" Billy Lee asked.

"It's not heavy. I can do it. Ya'll about to decide how big to make that thing?"

"Momma, I'd be happy with a plastic-covered bamboo hut to start with, but Billy Lee wants to make it permanent, with glass and steel."

"If this is truly your dream, then best to make it right," I told her.

I slipped on one of Gert's old jackets and threw the bag over my shoulder. If the jacket had been red, I might have looked like a Johnny-come-lately Santa Claus, but it was a faded green plaid. I probably looked more like a bag woman who'd had a good day Dumpster-diving.

I'd tossed the bag into the garage and was on my way back to the house when I heard a weird mewling beside the back porch. I stopped dead. After my recent experience with the Christmas Slug in my kitchen, I wasn't feeling very trustful about any unexpected critters. What if it was a rat the size of a mountain lion throwing off pitiful noises so I'd come nearer, and then it would scare the bejesus out of me?

I heard it again and carefully crept closer. If it was a rat, Crystal and Billy Lee could cart my carcass to the funeral home. At least the divorce was final, and Crystal would now be my only living survivor, so she'd get Aunt Gert's inheritance, and Drew couldn't touch a dime of it. I carefully peeked behind the scrap lumber the carpenters had piled up beside the porch.

It was not a rat but a cat-a big fluffy ball of gray and orange fur curled up around two baby kittens. She looked up at me with the same pitiful eyes that Crystal had had when she'd showed up on my doorstep a week before. Half expecting the momma cat to claw my hand off to nothing more than a bloody nub, I carefully reached down to pet her.

She purred, and my heart melted. I tucked her two kittens into the jacket's patch pocket and draped the momma over my arm. The purring got louder as I carried her into the house, as if she knew those babies couldn't survive outside in the winter, and I was their salvation.

Neither Billy Lee nor Crystal looked up.

"Hey, look what I found."

Crystal was on her feet and had that momma cat in her arms in an instant. "Oh, isn't she beautiful? But we can't keep her. Daddy is allergic to cats"

The look on her face was one of horror. "I'm so sorry. That just slipped out"

"Don't be sorry, Crystal. Drew is still your father. You can talk about him anytime you want," Billy Lee said.

She grinned. "Thank you. This really is an open house, isn't it?"

"It is," I said.

"Billy Lee and I decided from day one that we weren't going to waste time on 'nice.'"

"But you are," she argued. "I've never been around anyone as nice to each other as you two"

Billy Lee looked down at his papers.

I didn't know what to say.

"Can we keep her, please?" Crystal begged.

The cat purred as she stroked its fur, and both of them looked at me with the same pleading eyes.

"Billy Lee, you allergic to cats?" I asked.

I'd gotten quite fond of finding him in the kitchen every morning, coffee ready, bacon or sausage frying. Not even a momma cat with two kittens would stand in the way of me and my breakfast.

"I'm not allergic to anything. Got a cat myself. Used to hang around my shop, looking for handouts, and finally decided it was safe to wander inside. With the field behind us, there're always mice looking for warmth in the winter. Since old Lion started coming around ten years ago, I haven't seen a single one in the house or the shop."

"For real?" I asked.

"Absolutely. Lion would just love for a mouse to sneak in so he'd have something to pester other than me"

Would I never stop learning all the complexities of this man? He had a cat, its name was Lion, and he'd never mentioned it. But then, we were always in Gert's-my, I corrected myself-house, so how was Ito know?

But that settled it. I'd adopt a dozen cats if they'd keep the mice-and, I hoped, slugs-from the house.

"We can keep her if she'll promise she'll never let a mouse into the house," I said.

"She'll be a good cat and scare them all away, won't you?" Crystal baby-talked to the cat.

"I've got some extra litter and an old pan over at the house. I'll go get it for you," Billy Lee said.