coffee with your name on it.”
She brightened and rounded the table. “Thank you.” She set
down her plate and dropped into the chair beside him, adding, “I’m happy to see you decided against your mother’s bonnet. Very nice.”
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Merry
Humbug Christmas
“I was going to, but it interrupted the overall look.”
She swept him with a lingering glance. “You look . . . really nice, Patrick.”
He looked down and grinned. He’d removed the suit jacket and
draped it over the back of his chair, and he’d loosened the knot of his black tie and unbuttoned the top button of the starched white shirt.
“Do you have a hot date, or do you have a gig with the rest of the boy band later?”
He wanted to laugh, but instead he arched an eyebrow toward
those horrible blinking candy cane earrings tucked into the nest of wavy reddish hair on her shoulder. “And you’re meeting up with the other elves after breakfast?”
“Oh, right,” she said, lifting her hands to touch one of them.
Nodding toward her blonde friend on the other side of the table, she added, “They were a gift from Connie. She thought I could do with some sprucing up.”
“I’d say they do the trick.”
“We missed you at church this morning, dear,” his mother com-
mented to Joss from the chair on the other side of Patrick. “It was a beautiful service.”
Joss raised both eyebrows and grinned at Patrick. “You took your
mother to church on Christmas morning. How sweet of you. That
explains the suit.”
He wanted to tell her he’d have gone to church whether his
mother had been around or not. He wanted Joss to know his Christian faith played a deep and abiding part of the man he’d become. Out of nowhere and in no time at all, he wanted to share things with this virtual stranger, personal things, things that mattered—
“How did you rest?” Patrick’s mother asked Joss, interrupting his private soliloquy.
“Very well,” Joss replied. “Once I stuck on one of the patches for seasickness, I drifted right off. What about you, Mrs. Brenneman?”
“Please call me Kathleen.”
Joss nodded. “I will. Kathleen.”
“I had a very nice night of sleep. Thank you for asking.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 54
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Once Upon a Jingle Bell
55
“The woman can sleep anywhere,” Patrick interjected, and he
paused to pop a sardine into his mouth before dropping his fork. “I’m in the adjoining cabin, so I looked in on her. Out like a light.”
“Clean conscience,” his mother commented, and she squeezed
his hand. “It makes for an effortless sleep each night.”
“I’ll have to try that,” he teased.
Patrick suddenly noticed Joss staring at him, her lips parted
slightly, and her lovely eyes wide and round as sugarplums.
“What?” he asked her.
“What on earth is that on your plate?”
He looked down at it. “Eggs. Pota—”
“No!” she interrupted. “That!”
He cackled. “You mean this?” he asked, picking up the last sar-
dine and dropping it into his open mouth. “It’s a sardine in mustard sauce.”
“Ohh!” she groaned. “How can you eat that?”
“I agree with you, dear,” his mother chimed in. “My son has ques-
tionable tastes when it comes to cuisine.”
“I’ve eaten half a dozen of them with my eggs,” he told her, finding ridiculous amusement in her repulsed reaction. “Try one? I’d be happy to go and fetch a few for you.”
Leaning forward around him, his mother cut him off at the pass
by asking Joss, “So what are your plans today?”
“I don’t really know,” she managed. One more shudder, and she
added, “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“My friends have invited us to a screening of It’s a Wonderful Life on the top deck this afternoon. Would you like to join us?”
Patrick noticed the flash of agony that passed over Joss’s expression before she masked it with a polite smile. “I
She brightened and rounded the table. “Thank you.” She set
down her plate and dropped into the chair beside him, adding, “I’m happy to see you decided against your mother’s bonnet. Very nice.”
53
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 53
7/23/13 1:06 PM
54
Merry
Humbug Christmas
“I was going to, but it interrupted the overall look.”
She swept him with a lingering glance. “You look . . . really nice, Patrick.”
He looked down and grinned. He’d removed the suit jacket and
draped it over the back of his chair, and he’d loosened the knot of his black tie and unbuttoned the top button of the starched white shirt.
“Do you have a hot date, or do you have a gig with the rest of the boy band later?”
He wanted to laugh, but instead he arched an eyebrow toward
those horrible blinking candy cane earrings tucked into the nest of wavy reddish hair on her shoulder. “And you’re meeting up with the other elves after breakfast?”
“Oh, right,” she said, lifting her hands to touch one of them.
Nodding toward her blonde friend on the other side of the table, she added, “They were a gift from Connie. She thought I could do with some sprucing up.”
“I’d say they do the trick.”
“We missed you at church this morning, dear,” his mother com-
mented to Joss from the chair on the other side of Patrick. “It was a beautiful service.”
Joss raised both eyebrows and grinned at Patrick. “You took your
mother to church on Christmas morning. How sweet of you. That
explains the suit.”
He wanted to tell her he’d have gone to church whether his
mother had been around or not. He wanted Joss to know his Christian faith played a deep and abiding part of the man he’d become. Out of nowhere and in no time at all, he wanted to share things with this virtual stranger, personal things, things that mattered—
“How did you rest?” Patrick’s mother asked Joss, interrupting his private soliloquy.
“Very well,” Joss replied. “Once I stuck on one of the patches for seasickness, I drifted right off. What about you, Mrs. Brenneman?”
“Please call me Kathleen.”
Joss nodded. “I will. Kathleen.”
“I had a very nice night of sleep. Thank you for asking.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 54
7/23/13 1:06 PM
Once Upon a Jingle Bell
55
“The woman can sleep anywhere,” Patrick interjected, and he
paused to pop a sardine into his mouth before dropping his fork. “I’m in the adjoining cabin, so I looked in on her. Out like a light.”
“Clean conscience,” his mother commented, and she squeezed
his hand. “It makes for an effortless sleep each night.”
“I’ll have to try that,” he teased.
Patrick suddenly noticed Joss staring at him, her lips parted
slightly, and her lovely eyes wide and round as sugarplums.
“What?” he asked her.
“What on earth is that on your plate?”
He looked down at it. “Eggs. Pota—”
“No!” she interrupted. “That!”
He cackled. “You mean this?” he asked, picking up the last sar-
dine and dropping it into his open mouth. “It’s a sardine in mustard sauce.”
“Ohh!” she groaned. “How can you eat that?”
“I agree with you, dear,” his mother chimed in. “My son has ques-
tionable tastes when it comes to cuisine.”
“I’ve eaten half a dozen of them with my eggs,” he told her, finding ridiculous amusement in her repulsed reaction. “Try one? I’d be happy to go and fetch a few for you.”
Leaning forward around him, his mother cut him off at the pass
by asking Joss, “So what are your plans today?”
“I don’t really know,” she managed. One more shudder, and she
added, “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“My friends have invited us to a screening of It’s a Wonderful Life on the top deck this afternoon. Would you like to join us?”
Patrick noticed the flash of agony that passed over Joss’s expression before she masked it with a polite smile. “I
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