Merry Humbug Christmas

Merry Christ

Humbug mas

Once Upon a Jingle Bell

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Merry Christ

Humbug mas

Once Upon a Jingle Bell

S A N D R A D. B R IC KE R

Nashville, Tennessee

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Merry Christ

Humbug mas

Once Upon a Jingle Bell

S A N D R A D. B R IC KE R

Nashville, Tennessee

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Copyright © 2013 by Sandra D. Bricker

All Rights Reserved.

Printed in the United States of America

978-1-4336-8075-5

Published by B&H Publishing Group

Nashville, Tennessee

Dewey Decimal Classification: F

Subject Heading: TO COME

Scripture quotations are taken from

the Holman Christian Standard Bible, Copyright ©

1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2009 by Holman Bible Publishers.

Used by permission.

Publisher’s Note: The characters and events

in this book are fictional, and any resemblance

to actual persons or events is coincidental.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 • 17 16 15 14 13

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Ronald Reagan said the smartest thing people can do

is to surround themselves with the best people they can find.

I’ve certainly done that.

Deepest thanks to

my steadfast and loyal Marian Miller;

my delightful collaborator, Julie Gwinn;

and my unstoppable rock, Rachelle Gardner.

You women GET ME.

I’m so grateful

(and so sorry).

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Rich and Betsy Snow, upon receiving their only child into

the world on the morning of December 25, showed consid-

erable lack of judgment or forethought when they decided on

impulse not to name her after Betsy’s favorite aunt Jocelyn as

planned. Instead, with beaming pride and perfectly straight faces, they announced their baby’s name to the nurse on duty. Betsy spelled it out for her.

“M.E.R.R.Y. Merry.”

“Pretty. Middle name?”

“Christmas,” Rich had replied.

“Beg your pardon?”

Yep. That’s right. On December 25 at 7:17 a.m. in San Bernardino

County, California, unto the world a child was born.

Merry Christmas Snow.

Her name had come to seem like a Before & After puzzle from

Wheel of Fortune
.

By the time she reached twenty-five, Merry’d had just about all

she could take of her given name. She’d carried the thing around

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Merry

Humbug Christmas

with her like a joke book tucked into the back pocket of her jeans, and frankly, she was sick and tired of the same old punch lines. So on the day after Christmas, the year of her twenty-sixth birthday, Merry Christmas Snow went to court and changed her name to Jocelyn

Merry Snow.

She’d wanted to rid herself of the Merry part too. But David

Cassidy, grinning down at her from the framed vintage pillowcase on the wall of her home office and urging her to keep some small part of her former life for the sake of sentiment, just wouldn’t let her do it. And so she kept the Merry, deciding to hide it behind the simple initial M.

Jocelyn M. Snow.

Very grown-up. And punch line free.

If only the judge would have signed off on a change of birth date too. She didn’t particularly like sharing her birthday with someone so famous that people decorated evergreen trees and baked turkeys and pecan pies in His honor. Joss wished for a nice random birth

date, like April 3 or May 5.

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On the first day of Christmas,

Murphy’s Law gave to me . . .

a Partridge with the first name Keith.

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1

Joss’s best friend Reese giggled at her from across the table

at Starbuck’s. “You always say that you want a nice normal

birthday like May 5. You do realize that’s Cinco de Mayo, right?”

“Oh. Right. Maybe not May 5 then.”

“You are such a head case.”

“What do you know, Dr. Pendergrass?” Joss slumped in her chair,

crossed her arms, and slid one leg over the other. “You, with your shampoo commercial hair and all the letters behind your name. Do

not negate the influence of my highly dysfunctional life.”

Reese thumped her coffee cup down on the table and grinned.

“Joss. I was named after a chocolate-covered peanut butter cup. My parents were vegans before anybody ever heard of it, and my brother dances in Peoria in the chorus of
Billy Elliot
. You do not have a corner on the quirky family market.”

Joss tossed a good-natured wave at her friend and shrugged. “In

fact, I have no family on the market at all.”

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Merry

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“Sorry.” Reese’s tone told Joss that things had turned serious

when she wasn’t looking.

“Talk to me when you start twitching each and every year as the

holiday season arrives and people start wishing you a Merry Reese Pendergrass.”

Reese bubbled up with laughter like air blown through a straw.

“Hey,” Joss realized. “When I called to ask you to meet me so

I could tell you something important, you said you had something

important too. What is it?”

“You first.”

Joss caught hold of Reese’s sky-blue gaze for a moment and

grinned from one ear to the other. She yanked the brochure from

the pocket of her oversized bag and slapped it down on the tabletop.

“Check it out.” She could hardly contain herself. “Go ahead.

Check it out.”

“What is this?” Reese asked as she examined the brochure.

“It’s where we’re going this year on our annual Escape Christmas

Altogether Girls’ Week Out!”

“Oh.” Reese’s soft features dropped slightly. “About that.”

“Come on!” Joss encouraged her. “A little excitement, if you

please. Remember I told you I was searching for the ultimate anti-Christmas vacation for us this year?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Well, get a load of this!” Joss exclaimed, snatching the brochure from her and holding up the front toward her. “The
Bah Humbug
Cruise
!”

Reese chuckled and took the glossy fold-over from Joss’s hand.

“The what?”

“The Bah Humbug Cruise. It leaves out of Los Angeles for seven

days, cruising . . . wait for it . . . the Mexican Riviera!”

“Oh. Wow. Joss.”

“Look!” she said, tapping the brochure, and then snatching it

away in her enthusiasm. “Cabo. Mazatlan. Puerto Vallarta. A cabin with two beds, a private balcony . . . and that’s not even the best part.”

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Once Upon a Jingle Bell

7

“No?”

“No! The cruise leaves L.A. on the afternoon of Christmas Eve

and returns to port on New Year’s Eve, with not one single mention of Christmas the whole time. And there are still cabins available. Is that too delicious to
believe
?”

Reese popped out a chuckle, but the amusement didn’t reach

her eyes.

“What’s not to love about this, my friend? Not a wreath, orna-

ment, stocking, or reindeer in sight. Who thinks of something like that?”

“I was just wondering that myself.”

“I mean, we’re not the only ones on the planet who are sick

and tired of the whole comfort-and-joy, families-together, ho-ho-