Patchouli For Christmas by Bren Christopher Page A

of weeks. Such a sweet boy, but he gets strange this time of year—a little withdrawn.”
    Michael’s headache grew worse as he gazed up at the painting and tried to reconcile the supercilious voice on the phone with Mrs. Kendrick’s doting image of her grandson.
    She noticed the direction of his stare. “Lovely, isn’t it? My Jude is very talented.”
    “I’m sure he’s an excellent artist, although I confess I’m no judge.”
    She seemed amused. “I thought you were a New Yorker. You’re supposed to have an opinion about everything.”
    Michael cleared his throat as he tried to think of a polite way to phrase his concern. “He told me most of his work is rather dark.”
    “Oh yes. I’ve seen it. Quite dismal, really. Well done though, as it should be. That art school he went to cost me a small fortune.”
    “I’m just not sure it’s entirely appropriate for the sort of cheerful holiday party you might have in mind.”
    “Nonsense. You’ve seen the guest list. Many of New York’s most influential people will be here. Gallery owners. Critics from the newspapers. It’s a perfect showcase for his art. I’m certain you’ll manage to show the work to advantage and still give us a delightful venue for the party.”
    Michael found himself caught between pride at her faith in him and fear that he would fail her. Right where she wanted him to be. Manipulative old woman . No wonder she’d been so successful at running her husband’s company after he’d died. Retirement might have softened the edges a little, but occasionally he caught a glimpse of the uncompromising businesswoman under the kindly old-lady veneer. What could he say? “I’ll do my best.”
    “I know you will, dear. My grandson is wonderfully talented, but he’s not good at promoting his work. When he’s not painting, he’s busy with all of his causes. So earnest. He really believes he can make the world a better place.” She sighed. “One day he’ll lose some of that innocence, but I hope it won’t be soon.”
    Knowing Mrs. Kendrick’s own involvement in a multitude of charities, Michael had to look away to hide his amusement as he struggled to keep from making a crack about the apple not falling far from the tree. She had put her wealth to good use, and he had always held her in high regard for her activities.
    “And what of your brother and his lovely wife?” she asked. “They must come to the party.”
    Michael paused in surprise. “That’s very kind of you.” Doug and Lauren certainly didn’t move in the same social circles as Mrs. Kendrick and her friends.
    “Douglas has been most helpful in straightening out the finances of one of the children’s charities I help run, and his wife has volunteered much of her time to the organization. They deserve a lovely night out. I’ll see they’re sent an invitation.”
    “I’m sure they’ll be happy to accept.” Michael had known his small event planning business was only one of Doug’s many clients, but hadn’t realized his brother had become so successful. He couldn’t wait to tell Doug about the invitation.
    “Are you spending Christmas Day with them?”
    “Yes. I always enjoy watching my nephews open their presents.”
    She nodded in approval. “I haven’t met them, but I’m sure the children are delightful.”
    “They’re good kids. I took them to see the tree at Rockefeller last year.” He touched his silk tie. “They gave me this for Christmas.”
    “It’s lovely. No doubt they had some help from Lauren picking it out. The blue matches your eyes.”
    Michael stood, and then helped Mrs. Kendrick to her feet. She hooked her arm through his. They walked through a hall decorated with wreaths and bright red bows. The thump of her cane echoed from the oak floors with every slow step.
    At least she’d already had the professional holiday decorators in, probably the day after Thanksgiving. That would save him some work, although he might add a few touches here