Read Merry Humbug Christmas Online
Authors: Sandra D. Bricker
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction, #Christian, #Holidays
Breakfast was still being served, and passengers would not begin to disembark until 11 a.m. Joss flew out of bed, nearly crashing into her remaining carry-on bag she’d packed the night before and leaned against the wall.
Twenty minutes later, fully dressed, she grabbed her cell phone
and purse and raced out the door and down the corridor. Why had
she waited until morning to tell Patrick what she’d clearly figured out the night before? Despite all of her fears, she wanted to know what could happen between them. If Patrick was willing to overlook her neuroses and fears and craziness, she knew she’d be insane to let him go.
Joss made the dining hall her first stop, but their table sat completely empty except for Connie Rudolph as she sipped the last of her coffee while workers bused the dirty dishes from around her.
“Oh, sweetie! I’m so happy you showed up,” she said, standing up
and rounding the table to hug Joss. Connie’s bracelet jingled in her ear as she did. “I’m so glad that we met. I really am.”
“I am, too, Connie,” she answered, grinning because she truly
meant those words. Producing a business card from the pocket of
her purse, Joss handed it to Connie. “My e-mail address is on here and both my numbers. I want you to keep in touch.”
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Connie looked genuinely surprised. “Really? Thank you, honey!
I’ll do that. I don’t fly home for two days, but I’ll write you as soon as I get back.”
“Two days?”
“I couldn’t get the supersaver price unless I booked a return
flight for the third of January.”
“What are your plans in the meantime then?”
“I booked a room at The Roosevelt Hotel right in the middle of
Hollywood,” she said. “They say it’s haunted, you know.”
Joss thought about the likes of Connie Rudolph wandering
around Hollywood on her own, and concern closed a clamp on her
good sense. “The only thing haunting about The Roosevelt is its location. You’re not staying alone in Hollywood, Connie. You’ll stay with me.”
“What? No, honey. You don’t hafta—”
“I know that, and yet you’re going to stay with me.”
“Oh, sweetie. I’m overcome.”
“Listen,” Joss said, and she grabbed Connie’s wrist. “I have something I have to do right now. But I want you to meet me in the main lobby at noon. Okay? Over by that bench that goes around the big
Christmas tree.”
“Okay, sweetie.”
“And if you don’t find me, just raise your arm and shake that
bracelet of yours. I’ll follow the ringing bells.”
Connie chuckled. “You’re terrible.”
“Just call my cell number. It’s on the card I gave you.”
“Okay, honey. I will.”
And with that, Joss took off out of the dining hall at a full run, headed for the elevators. Just before she reached them, Marla called out her name and rushed toward her. “Joss, I’m so glad to find you.”
Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Joss pushed a smile
to her face. “Marla.”
“Listen, Rod’s been searching for you this morning.”
“He has?” Her pulse thumped with hope.
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“I think he’d really like to speak to you before we head out. Do
you have a few minutes?”
Her reply got clogged somewhere deep in her throat. As much
as she wanted to get to Patrick, could she really turn away from the possibility of clearing up the misunderstanding with Jenkins?
“Where is he?”
“He’s back at the cabin getting the kids together. Just tell me
where you’re headed, and I’ll have him meet you there.”
“Oh. Well . . .”
“I’m sorry. If this is a bad time, I’m sure he can give you a call next week.”
“No. No, of course, I want to talk to him. I’d been hoping for a
chance to clear things up between us.”
Marla leaned toward her and touched Joss on the arm. “I think
it’s a good idea.”
“I was headed upstairs to say good-bye to some new friends,” she
explained. “I can—”
“You go ahead and do that, Joss. I’ll go see how Rod’s doing with getting things organized, and I’ll tell him to meet you on the lido deck by the big swimming pool. Let’s say in half an hour?”
“Perfect. I’ll be there.”
PATRICK CHECKED HIS PHONE again, the third or fourth time in
the last twenty minutes. She’d said she wouldn’t think of leaving the ship without saying good-bye to him and his mother, so he’d held
true to his word and waited to hear from her. But there had been no contact at all. Checking his phone yet again, no message from Joss beckoned.
He should have gone to her room that morning when she didn’t
show up for breakfast. Or at least given her a quick call. But he couldn’t really have done that after making those ridiculous declara-tions about waiting to hear from her, could he?
“Are you ready, dear? Should we return the wheelchair now?”
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Patrick nodded at his mother. “I think you should remain right
here in it until we’re ready to leave the ship.”
They’d packed up the night before, and Doug and Caroline had
helped him navigate both his mother and their luggage down to the lobby since the cruise line’s television message board had indicated that handicapped passengers would be allowed to leave the ship first.
“We still have an hour before the first passengers will be allowed to disembark,” he told her. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine, Patrick,” his mother replied. “Go ahead, why don’t
you. Go and find her.”
He looked into his mother’s kind eyes and smiled. “She has my
information, Mother. I don’t need to go in search of her.”
“Does she know, dear?”
“Know what?”
“How you feel. I think you need to tell her what’s in your heart.”
“We had a very nice discussion on the subject,” he reassured her, and he knelt down in front of her and took her hand. “I’ll hear from her again.”
“If you’re certain.”
“I am.”
Patrick hadn’t often straight-out lied to his mother; at least, not as an adult. And this wasn’t exactly a lie either. Just a partial . . . fib.
Ah, the truth is I may never hear from her again,
he admitted to himself, and he checked his phone again in search of a text message that wasn’t there . . . and might never come.
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On the twelfth day of Christmas,
Murphy’s Law gave to me . . .
twelve cell phones swimming,
eleven schemes a-forming,
ten sharks a-snapping,
nine Scrooges hiding,
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.
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12
Joss hadn’t been able to find Patrick anywhere. Arriving on
the lido deck with three minutes to spare, she scanned the
area in search of Rodney Jenkins. When she didn’t spot him, she
moved over to the railing and began typing a text into her cell phone.
I need to see you. I—
“Miss Snow! There you are.”
As Jenkins reached her, Joss reeled around toward him, and to
her great devastation, she lost her grip on her cell phone and watched helplessly as it hurtled out of her hands and
down-down-down
toward the water below.
“Noooooo!!”
“Oh my. Was that your phone?”
For a long and frozen moment, Joss couldn’t respond as she
decided whether or not to dive overboard after it. Finally, she
croaked, “My life is in that phone.”
“I’m so sorry,” Rodney told her. “I startled you.”
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“I can’t believe that just happened,” she cried, staring lovingly into its wake. “No joke. My life is in that phone.”
“Perhaps this isn’t a good time to talk then.”
Joss’s hand flew to her throat as she attempted to massage the
words up and out. “No. No, I’m happy to . . .” She gave the departure path of her phone one last caring glance. “I really wanted to apologize to you about what you heard me say, Mr. Jenkins.”
“I’ve given it a lot of thought, Miss Snow. And especially after my conversation with your Irish friend—”
“My . . . my what? You spoke with Patrick?”
“Yes, and he explained your unique situation and aversion to the
Christmas holiday.”
“Did he?”
“You have a very dedicated friend in him. I hope you know that.”
Joss choked on the reality that, once Patrick stepped off that
ship, she now had no way of finding him again.
“I want you to know, Mr. Jenkins, my business partner and I have
worked very hard on preparing a proposal I think you’re really going to love. In fact, now that I know you a little better and I’ve seen you with your beautiful family, I feel more confident than ever we can help set Vandermere on a really solid course.”
She realized she’d been wringing her hands as she spoke, and she
quickly dropped both arms to her sides.
“So will we see you next week at your office, sir?”
Rodney seemed to size her up before speaking. “Yes. I’ll see you
then.”
Joss hopped to attention, and she snatched up his hand and began
to shake it vigorously. “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. You won’t be sorry.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?” he asked. “Now I have to get back to our
cabin and help my wife before she decides to leave me.”
Joss chuckled. “Thank you, sir. Please give her my best.”
Once he’d shaken her hand one last time and headed off toward
the doors, Joss rushed to the railing and peered over the side. She knew the odds against actually spotting her phone down there, but Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 144
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she looked anyway. She backed up her business contacts on a regular basis, so they could be restored.
But how would she ever find Patrick again without that phone?
She swallowed hard and glanced around cautiously before turn-
ing toward the railing.
“Okay, God,” she whispered to the sky, “I know You haven’t heard
from me in a really long time, and I’m sorry about that. I don’t even really know if You’re listening or anything. But if You are, and You wouldn’t mind helping me, I sure would like to see Patrick again. You know. If that’s okay with You.”
“I NORMALLY SPEND THIS night with my best friend, Reese,” Joss
told Connie as she carried fresh linens and an extra blanket into the guest room. “But she’s engaged now, so I think our New Year’s Eve traditions have pretty much gone up in smoke.”
“So what are they?” Connie asked. “Your traditions.”
Joss shooed Caleb off the unmade bed and dropped the linens
there.
“Chinese food and mindless television. Last year, it was a
Keeping
Up with the Kardashians
marathon.”
“Oh, sweetie, you weren’t kidding about mindless,” Connie
drawled.
Joss giggled. “Do you like Chinese food?”
“It’s one of my faves.”
“Then how about we order some and see what we can find on E!”
“Sounds like a plan. Can we watch the ball drop at midnight,