Christmas then,” he told them, tugging her along after
him.
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 57
7/23/13 1:06 PM
58
Merry
Humbug Christmas
A few yards down the corridor, Joss turned back toward him and
began to laugh before pointing at the ceiling. He looked up to find nothing out of the ordinary, and then she began to sing along with the instrumental music piped in from the overhead speakers.
“Good King Wenceslas looked down on the feast of Stephen.”
“He looked out. Not down.”
“When Joss Snow lay round about . . .”
Patrick joined in, fracturing the correct lyrics right along with her. “She was deep and crisp and even.”
“Brightly shone, the moon was bright . . .”
He grabbed her arm and gently shook it. “Do you know the right
words to any of it?”
She ignored him and ceremoniously continued to sing, “. . . and
then Joss was cruuuu-el.”
“The frost!” he exclaimed. “The frost was cruel.”
As they reached the door to her cabin, Joss continued to laugh.
“What are you, the king’s personal historian, Patrick?”
He straightened and pasted a mock-serious expression on his
face. “I just think you should care a bit about accuracy, that’s all.”
Their merriment came to a screeching halt as a uniformed crew
member approached them with a silver-domed plate in his hand.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Snow.”
“Oh. Same to you, Hadji.”
“And happy birthday as well,” he added, and Patrick watched
Joss’s expression wilt like a watercolor painting set out into the December rain.
“Oh . . .”
“Is it your birthday?” Patrick asked her.
“. . . thank you.”
“This is for you,” the steward told her, and he handed her the
plate. “There’s a card fastened underneath.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took it, but she looked anything but grateful.
Joss swiped her room key and gave Patrick a nod as an invitation
to follow her inside. By the time he reached her, Joss had set down Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 58
7/23/13 1:06 PM
Once Upon a Jingle Bell
59
the plate and lifted the dome, and she stood there staring down at a small, decorated cake with Happy Birthday, Joss flourished across the top of it.
“You were born on Christmas Day,” Patrick said as he stood next
to her, also looking down at the cake. “Maybe . . . thirty years ago?”
She turned to him and smiled. “Nice try. A good combination of
an attempt at getting information glazed with unabashed flattery. I like it.”
“Ah. Fifty years ago then?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Thirty-four years ago, nosey.”
“Well, you wear it well. And I might bet this has something to do with your aversion to all things Yule related.”
“A little something,” she replied. After a moment she sighed and
looked up at him. “Do you think this cake has to be refrigerated, or can I leave it on the table until later?”
“I think it will do fine on the table.”
Joss chuckled. “We could always make a game of it. I could toss it off the balcony, and we could try to guess how many seconds it will take to hit water.”
“A sad waste of cake.”
“This is a floating smorgasbord,” she pointed out. “I don’t think they ever run out of cake.”
“You might want to read the card first.”
“I don’t have to.”
“Oh, you have a third eye, do you?”
“No, I just know Reese.”
Joss sat down on the bed and picked up a discarded square of
adhesive. After straightening it, she placed it behind her ear.
“Nausea patch,” she told him with a limp shrug. Standing, she
added, “Okay. Let’s spend some money!”
“COFFEE. BLACK.”
“Skinny vanilla latte with a double shot and two sweeteners.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 59
7/23/13 1:06 PM
60
Merry
Humbug Christmas
Patrick saw Joss’s wheels turning, and he reached out and
touched the young waitress on the wrist. Her jingle bell bracelet clinked in reply. When she looked back at him, he nodded toward
Joss just an
him.
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 57
7/23/13 1:06 PM
58
Merry
Humbug Christmas
A few yards down the corridor, Joss turned back toward him and
began to laugh before pointing at the ceiling. He looked up to find nothing out of the ordinary, and then she began to sing along with the instrumental music piped in from the overhead speakers.
“Good King Wenceslas looked down on the feast of Stephen.”
“He looked out. Not down.”
“When Joss Snow lay round about . . .”
Patrick joined in, fracturing the correct lyrics right along with her. “She was deep and crisp and even.”
“Brightly shone, the moon was bright . . .”
He grabbed her arm and gently shook it. “Do you know the right
words to any of it?”
She ignored him and ceremoniously continued to sing, “. . . and
then Joss was cruuuu-el.”
“The frost!” he exclaimed. “The frost was cruel.”
As they reached the door to her cabin, Joss continued to laugh.
“What are you, the king’s personal historian, Patrick?”
He straightened and pasted a mock-serious expression on his
face. “I just think you should care a bit about accuracy, that’s all.”
Their merriment came to a screeching halt as a uniformed crew
member approached them with a silver-domed plate in his hand.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Snow.”
“Oh. Same to you, Hadji.”
“And happy birthday as well,” he added, and Patrick watched
Joss’s expression wilt like a watercolor painting set out into the December rain.
“Oh . . .”
“Is it your birthday?” Patrick asked her.
“. . . thank you.”
“This is for you,” the steward told her, and he handed her the
plate. “There’s a card fastened underneath.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took it, but she looked anything but grateful.
Joss swiped her room key and gave Patrick a nod as an invitation
to follow her inside. By the time he reached her, Joss had set down Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 58
7/23/13 1:06 PM
Once Upon a Jingle Bell
59
the plate and lifted the dome, and she stood there staring down at a small, decorated cake with Happy Birthday, Joss flourished across the top of it.
“You were born on Christmas Day,” Patrick said as he stood next
to her, also looking down at the cake. “Maybe . . . thirty years ago?”
She turned to him and smiled. “Nice try. A good combination of
an attempt at getting information glazed with unabashed flattery. I like it.”
“Ah. Fifty years ago then?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Thirty-four years ago, nosey.”
“Well, you wear it well. And I might bet this has something to do with your aversion to all things Yule related.”
“A little something,” she replied. After a moment she sighed and
looked up at him. “Do you think this cake has to be refrigerated, or can I leave it on the table until later?”
“I think it will do fine on the table.”
Joss chuckled. “We could always make a game of it. I could toss it off the balcony, and we could try to guess how many seconds it will take to hit water.”
“A sad waste of cake.”
“This is a floating smorgasbord,” she pointed out. “I don’t think they ever run out of cake.”
“You might want to read the card first.”
“I don’t have to.”
“Oh, you have a third eye, do you?”
“No, I just know Reese.”
Joss sat down on the bed and picked up a discarded square of
adhesive. After straightening it, she placed it behind her ear.
“Nausea patch,” she told him with a limp shrug. Standing, she
added, “Okay. Let’s spend some money!”
“COFFEE. BLACK.”
“Skinny vanilla latte with a double shot and two sweeteners.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 59
7/23/13 1:06 PM
60
Merry
Humbug Christmas
Patrick saw Joss’s wheels turning, and he reached out and
touched the young waitress on the wrist. Her jingle bell bracelet clinked in reply. When she looked back at him, he nodded toward
Joss just an
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