Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One) by Diane Moody Page A

original recording. Hannah sang silently, drinking in the moment of this
private concert, blushing at the memory of those words on Christmas Eve. He
winked at her, a sly smile on his lips. He remembered too.
    If only I could
play for you
    The symphony
inside my soul
    You’d hear the
secret melody
    A lyric just
for you from me . . .
    Patty and Hannah
joined the sweet chorus, harmonizing the parts they knew so well.
    But a hundred
songs of love,
    Or a thousand
years together
    Could never be
enough.
    So it all comes
down to this,
    A quiet, simple
kiss
    A quiet, simple
kiss.
    “Whoa, you guys
are bad .” Jason shook his head, lowering the guitar into its case. “I
mean, you really stink.”
    “Hey!” Patty
hopped off the counter and thumped him on the back of his head. “You just get
on outta here, Max. Nobody talks to me like that. Go on—get outta here. I mean
it!”
    She put her arm
around Hannah as they walked out of the kitchen. “Listen, Hannah, you come back
anytime. You and me, we’ll put together a singing act all our own. We don’t
need him,” she fussed, jabbing a thumb at Jason.
    “Patty, don’t you
be filling her head with that stuff,” he warned. He whisked Hannah away from
Patty, then grabbed their coats as they passed their booth. “We’ll be back! But
Patty?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Stick to cooking.
You sing like a frog !”

 
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
    T he Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough now gone, two
empty bowls coated with melted ice cream sat on the table between them. Hannah
sat across from Jason at the tiny table in her kitchen.
    “You said yourself
when the ride was over, you’d know when to get off. Well, something like that.
So maybe it’s just time, Jason.”
    He tapped his
spoon against the bowl with nervous agitation, his elbows resting on the table.
Hannah could feel his anxiety. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her
legs out under the table. Jason shifted his legs so they rested against hers.
Unfortunately, one of his legs was bouncing in rhythm with the spoon.
    His silence made
her uncomfortable. Extremely uncomfortable.
    Finally he dropped
the spoon. He raked his hair with both hands letting out a frustrated growl.
“No. No, it’s not time. That’s just it! Don’t you think I would know it
in my gut if it was? Wouldn’t I have some inkling in my soul? S omething? I
mean, this hit me broadside. I had no clue it was coming! And I’m not gonna let it happen, Hannah,” he snapped, shoving his chair back. “I’m not.”
    “Jason—”
    “No, listen to me,
Hannah. I told you—I stay tuned in to God. I really do. I’m not just saying it
to sound like some righteous jerk. Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve known I
could never make it without God. Ask my mom. She’ll tell you. The guys will
too—it’s just part of my life. I know it doesn’t fit with the industry we’re in,
but it’s just who I am.
    “And ever since
this Blue thing happened, I’ve had my head on my shoulders, facing it
straight out.” He was roaming the small room, idly picking up utensils, an oven
mitt, anything he came across. “I swear it, Hannah. From the beginning, I laid
this whole thing at God’s feet and said, ‘it’s all Yours.’ So don’t you think I
would have known something was coming? Don’t you think I should have had
some kind of inner alert or . . . or feeling that
something was about to happen? Like shouldn’t God have given me some kind of
clue?”
    The total
bewilderment on his face alarmed her. “I don’t know, Jason. God’s God. He
doesn’t have to do anything.” She cringed at the tone of her sheepish
response.
    He started wiping
the counter with a dishrag in wide, angry circles. “But still, think about it.
I haven’t exactly turned my back on Him, y’know? Or, I don’t know, maybe I
have. Maybe I just thought I was staying tuned in to Him. Maybe I screwed up
and didn’t even realize it.”
    “Jason, why are
you doing this? First you’re trying to