Free Merry Humbug Christmas by Sandra D. Bricker Page B

ever arrive. Feeling like
    he’d known her several years already—and been deprived of her
    kiss for all of them—Patrick indulged at last. And Joss slid her arms around his neck and surrendered.
    “DON’T MAKE ME PUT you over my shoulder and carry you up
    there.”
    The way Joss twisted up her beautiful face at him made Patrick
    laugh right out loud.
    “Come on. Do you want me to carry you up there?” he asked her,
    and the tangled knot of her expression transformed into a full-on glare. “Because I’ll do it.”
    “I’ll tell you what,” she told him, nearly shouting over the karaoke rendition of “Wind Beneath My Wings” screeching from the
    stage. “You go first.”
    “Can I get you folks anything else?” the waiter bellowed at them.
    “Another Diet Coke for my friend,” Patrick yelled. “She needs to
    lubricate her voice. She’s planning to sing.”
    “No!” she broke in, smacking his arm. “I’m not!”
    “Would you like to see the catalog?” the waiter asked.
    “The what?” she called.
    “The catalog of song choices,” he answered, pulling what looked
    like a menu from his back pocket and setting it between them on the table. “You can make your choice, and I’ll deliver it to the DJ. Then he’ll call your name when it’s your turn.”
    “No, no,” she insisted. “I’m really not—”
    “Just leave it with us,” Patrick asserted. “We’ll talk it over.”
    The waiter nodded, and the moment he headed toward the bar
    to retrieve Joss’s cola, she clamped the fingers of one hand around Patrick’s forearm and squeezed until he folded into the pain.
    “Hey! Stop it! What are you doing?”
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    “I’ll tell you what I’m not doing—”
    “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure? Just have a look,”
    he said, pushing the catalog toward her. “Maybe you’ll see something that appeals to you and change your mind.”
    She pouted at him for a moment before opening the booklet and
    glancing over a random page.
    “I don’t karaoke,” she told him, but the catalog clearly had her
    attention. “Although, if I was actually going to do it—which I am not!—you would be doing it with me, I assure you.”
    Patrick chuckled as he gulped the last of his coffee, and she
    scanned the song listings. He watched as something grabbed her
    attention. She squinted and looked closer, the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement.
    “Let’s pretend then,” he suggested. “If you were going to, what
    song would you sing?”
    “Well, this would be it,” she declared, slapping the catalog to the tabletop. “Hands down!”
    He looked at the listing beneath her tapping index finger.
    “C’mon Get Happy”—the Partridge Family
    “You’re joking.”
    “I never joke about David Cassidy.”
    The waiter returned and set another large glass of soda on the

table. As he removed Joss’s empty one, he asked her, “Have you
    decided?”
    “This one,” Patrick snapped. “The Partridge Family.”
    The waiter cackled. “Good choice. No one’s done that one in
    forever.”
    “No, really, I—”
    “Her name is Joss,” Patrick informed him.
    “Joss. Got it. There are three others in front of you, but Lonnie will call your name when you’re up.”
    “Wait! Really . . .”
    “Oh, come on,” Patrick teased. “You’ve made your choice, and
    it’s David Cassidy.”
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    Merry
    Humbug Christmas
    Joss began gathering her things, an expression of sheer terror
    commandeering her demeanor, and she stood up from her chair in
    such a rush that her purse emptied on the tabletop.
    “Simmer down there, Sparky,” Patrick said on a laugh as he
    helped her pick up her belongings and stuff them into her purse.
    “It’s all in fun. You wanted to put thoughts of Christmas behind you, didn’t you? How far can you get from carols than Partridge Family karaoke,