it?”
“Me.”
“You. Are you sick?”
“Yes.”
“It might be time to change that seasickness patch then. Why
don’t you—”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, that’s not it,” she managed.
“Then what is it? Can I walk you back to your cabin?”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 91
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92
Merry
Humbug Christmas
“No need. I’m just going to . . . to . . .” She didn’t know what she was going to do, truth be told. But then the inspiration came to her in a flash. “. . . throw myself overboard.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 92
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On the eighth day of Christmas,
Murphy’s Law gave to me . . .
eight careers crashing,
seven songs a-shrieking,
six teeth a-breaking,
five cold sardiiiines!
four dirty words,
three French friends,
two hearty shoves,
and a Partridge with the first name Keith.
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 93
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Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 94
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8
“You’ll just wait until tomorrow, and you’ll talk to him. Rod
seems like a very reasonable bloke, Joss. Tell him what
you’ve just told me. . . . Well, maybe not everything you just said, . . .
but I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right, Patrick,” she said, still clutching her heart. “I’ll just say, ‘Look, Mr. Jenkins, I’m a Christmas hater from way, way back. It’s nothing personal, but I only pretended to have the kind of holiday spirit of someone who, say, brings their twenty-seven children on a Christmas cruise and spends their time singing carols and decorating stockings, all so I could get closer to you and snag your business.’”
Tossing herself hard against the leather booth, she clamped her
eyes shut and groaned.
“Perhaps if he knows why you’re inclined to avoid Christmas—”
“Stop!” she growled without opening her eyes. “Please just stop.”
A clamor drew her attention as a server set down two cups of
coffee and an enormous slice of cheesecake she didn’t remember
95
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 95
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96
Merry
Humbug Christmas
ordering. Joss inspected the cheesecake for a moment, and it morphed into the shape of a life preserver—drizzled with caramel. She
scraped the plate toward her, seized a fork, and stabbed it. As it hit her tongue, she sighed loudly.
“Should I get her a fork, after all?” the server asked Patrick. “Or can I bring you a second piece?”
“No. We’re fine.”
In a flash, she remembered. Joss had told the waitress all she
wanted was coffee. Patrick was the one who’d asked for the
cheesecake.
“I’m sorry,” she told him as she sliced off another hunk. “I have no self-control.”
“It’s fine,” he said with a grin. “Enjoy.”
Joss didn’t speak again until the last morsel of cheesecake had
been devoured. Before setting down her fork again, she mimed stabbing herself in the neck with it.
“Ah, Patrick, what have I done? I just keep going over it in my
head, imagining what Jenkins must have thought when he overheard
that conversation.” She sighed and sank into the booth, looking across the table at Patrick. “I’m defective. You should really know that about me. I’m unfit for human interaction, I really am.”
“All evidence to the contrary,” he replied softly. “Look, I need to check in on my mother. Can I walk you back to your cabin?”
“Go ahead. I’m just going to hang here with the memory of the
six thousand calories I’ve just consumed.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She nodded and tried to smile at him, but her lips refused to
curve upward. “I may stay clear of the main dining room though.”
“I’ll sneak you some food.”
“And a life raft so I can head for home?”
“You’ve got it.”
He slipped out of the booth and stopped to press a kiss on the
top of her head before departing.
“Sweet dreams.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 96
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Once Upon a Jingle Bell
97
Joss wondered
“Me.”
“You. Are you sick?”
“Yes.”
“It might be time to change that seasickness patch then. Why
don’t you—”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, that’s not it,” she managed.
“Then what is it? Can I walk you back to your cabin?”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 91
7/23/13 1:06 PM
92
Merry
Humbug Christmas
“No need. I’m just going to . . . to . . .” She didn’t know what she was going to do, truth be told. But then the inspiration came to her in a flash. “. . . throw myself overboard.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 92
7/23/13 1:06 PM
On the eighth day of Christmas,
Murphy’s Law gave to me . . .
eight careers crashing,
seven songs a-shrieking,
six teeth a-breaking,
five cold sardiiiines!
four dirty words,
three French friends,
two hearty shoves,
and a Partridge with the first name Keith.
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 93
7/23/13 1:06 PM
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 94
7/23/13 1:06 PM
8
“You’ll just wait until tomorrow, and you’ll talk to him. Rod
seems like a very reasonable bloke, Joss. Tell him what
you’ve just told me. . . . Well, maybe not everything you just said, . . .
but I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right, Patrick,” she said, still clutching her heart. “I’ll just say, ‘Look, Mr. Jenkins, I’m a Christmas hater from way, way back. It’s nothing personal, but I only pretended to have the kind of holiday spirit of someone who, say, brings their twenty-seven children on a Christmas cruise and spends their time singing carols and decorating stockings, all so I could get closer to you and snag your business.’”
Tossing herself hard against the leather booth, she clamped her
eyes shut and groaned.
“Perhaps if he knows why you’re inclined to avoid Christmas—”
“Stop!” she growled without opening her eyes. “Please just stop.”
A clamor drew her attention as a server set down two cups of
coffee and an enormous slice of cheesecake she didn’t remember
95
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 95
7/23/13 1:06 PM
96
Merry
Humbug Christmas
ordering. Joss inspected the cheesecake for a moment, and it morphed into the shape of a life preserver—drizzled with caramel. She
scraped the plate toward her, seized a fork, and stabbed it. As it hit her tongue, she sighed loudly.
“Should I get her a fork, after all?” the server asked Patrick. “Or can I bring you a second piece?”
“No. We’re fine.”
In a flash, she remembered. Joss had told the waitress all she
wanted was coffee. Patrick was the one who’d asked for the
cheesecake.
“I’m sorry,” she told him as she sliced off another hunk. “I have no self-control.”
“It’s fine,” he said with a grin. “Enjoy.”
Joss didn’t speak again until the last morsel of cheesecake had
been devoured. Before setting down her fork again, she mimed stabbing herself in the neck with it.
“Ah, Patrick, what have I done? I just keep going over it in my
head, imagining what Jenkins must have thought when he overheard
that conversation.” She sighed and sank into the booth, looking across the table at Patrick. “I’m defective. You should really know that about me. I’m unfit for human interaction, I really am.”
“All evidence to the contrary,” he replied softly. “Look, I need to check in on my mother. Can I walk you back to your cabin?”
“Go ahead. I’m just going to hang here with the memory of the
six thousand calories I’ve just consumed.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She nodded and tried to smile at him, but her lips refused to
curve upward. “I may stay clear of the main dining room though.”
“I’ll sneak you some food.”
“And a life raft so I can head for home?”
“You’ve got it.”
He slipped out of the booth and stopped to press a kiss on the
top of her head before departing.
“Sweet dreams.”
Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 96
7/23/13 1:07 PM
Once Upon a Jingle Bell
97
Joss wondered
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