Free Engaging Father Christmas by Robin Jones Gunn

now had returned. She had quite a talent for slicing into conversations that way.
    “My, that was an interesting young man at the Cosy this afternoon, wasn’t he?” Flora looked at me through her large, round glasses.
    I gave her a noncommittal nod.
    “The bag he carried was altogether ominous, though, wouldn’t you agree?”
    I nodded again.
    “I understand he carried it with him to the train station, got on the 3:22 for London, and who knows what he’s up to now. Good riddance, I say.”
    Clearly Flora’s sources were on the job that afternoon, all the way to the train station, to give her a full report.
    “We don’t need his sort around here, do we? No one quite seems to know why he came here. You wouldn’t happen to know, would you?”
    My wonderful knight in shining velvet robes came to my rescue at just the right moment. He greeted the women, received their compliments, and politely asked if he might steal me from their company.
    The Christmas penguin was agreeable, but Flora made it clear she had hoped for a longer visit.
    As Ian and I stepped away from the ladies, I said, “You came at just the right time.”
    “Did I now? You weren’t getting uncomfortable talking about Josh, were you?”
    I looked up at him. “You heard.”
    “Of course I heard.” With a twinkle in his eye, he added, “Christmas wishes weren’t the only secrets whispered in my ear once I put on these robes.”
    “What did you hear?”
    “Only that the menacing, ski-cap stalker followed you here, engaged you in a brief conversation, had some tea and scones — with jam and cream, by the way — and left on the next train to London.”
    I laughed at his rundown. “You got it all straight then. Except for one addition.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Josh wanted to know if I was taken.”
    Ian raised one of his stage-makeup, white, bushy eyebrows. “And what did you tell him?”
    “I told him I was practically engaged to Father Christmas, and if he didn’t get out of town, you would run him over with your reindeer.”
    “Did you, now?”
    Nudging Ian to the side of the lobby, as far away from any possible eavesdroppers as possible, I said, “I told Josh something else, and I need you to know about it.”
    Ian’s bushy eyebrows dipped, expressing his concentration in what I was about to say but exaggerating the expression in such a way that made the moment seem more dramatic than I thought it should be.
    In a whisper, I said, “I told Josh who my father was.”
    Now Ian’s eyebrows lifted in an equally exaggerated fashion, almost causing me to laugh. I knew what I was telling him wasn’t a laughing matter.
    “I felt I could tell him since he was the one who first urged me to come to Carlton Heath after seeing the photo of my dad dressed as Father Christmas. I trust Josh to keep the confidence.”
    “Are you sure you can trust him?”
    “Yes. He’s a psychologist. He keeps confidences for a living. I just wanted you to know. And as far as his visit to the Tea Cosy, I’m convinced it was more about satisfying his curiosity concerning Carlton Heath and the chance to add a few more hours of adventure to his ski trip than it was about me. That’s how he is.”
    “You’re sure, then, that I don’t need to hunt him down and make it clear he doesn’t have a chance to reconcile with you?”
    “You don’t need to hunt him down. We don’t have any reconciling to do. All is settled.”
    “You’re sure?”
    I nodded. “I’m sure.”
    I never had a brave defender like Ian in my life before. I kind of liked his expressions of eagerness to protect me. His valor seemed a little more believable, though, when he wasn’t looking at me with two snow-white caterpillars appearing as if they were doing push-ups on his eyebrows.
    Mark dashed up to us at that moment, his face flushed with the rush of the sudden glory. “Are we leaving soon?”
    “We’re ready if you are,” Ian said.
    “Mark, you did such a fantastic job. I’m so