Don't Save It All For Christmas Day

"Good morning. Jocelyn Carter's office. This is Sameen speaking. How may I help you?"

"Good morning Sameen," Joss greeted. "How's my cat?"

Sameen stopped spinning around in her office chair. "Joss! I've been hoping you would call. How are you?"

"Cold." That was the understatement of the century!

"I was watching on the news about the freak snow storm that hit that area. I had hoped you would be heading back here," Sameen confessed with no desire to hide her feelings.

"Heh. Not for a while." Not for a loooong while, Joss finished to herself.

Sameen furrowed her brow at the news. "I thought everything was cut-n-dry. What happened?"

"The will happened." Joss sighed. "My grandmother had the last say. It's...complicated."

"When are you coming home?"

"Thirty two days."

Sameen glanced at the calendar and did the mental math. "That's the day before Christmas," she nearly exclaimed in surprise before recalculating. Nope, she had it correct the first time.

"It is."

"What about your job here?"

"Apparently I did such a great job on the latest deal that I earned myself some time off," Joss grumbled at the thought of having nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs and watch the snow fall.

"I heard. The whole office is talking about what a great job you did. I know you're going to get 'Employee of The Year'," Sameen teased.

"Well, until then I'm on vacation for the next month."

Sameen picked up the pen and began doodling on the notepad. "Wow. A month. What are you going to do?" she inquired.

"I don't know. Got any ideas?"

"Go out and party."

"Nothing here like that, and I don't want to drive to Erie."

"How else are you going to meet a nice guy?"

"I don't want to meet a guy," Joss replied simply.

"I said a nice guy."

"Nice or otherwise, the answer is still no."

"What's his name?"

"What's whose name?" Joss asked stupidly.

"The man you already met."

"W-what are you talking about?" Joss tried to evade answering.

"You're saying you haven't met a man?" Sameen asked in disbelief at the way her boss was avoiding the question.

Joss debated lying, but then thought better of it. "Okay, I have. Sort of," she admitted reluctantly and tried to suppress the groan.

Sameen grinned broadly. "Ah ha! I knew it!"

"It's not like that; he was helping my grandmother with the property," Joss tried to explain quickly to correct any misconceptions her receptionist was entertaining.

Sameen leaned back in the chair and twirled the pencil between her fingers. "Ah, a handyman. What's he like?"

"He's a pain in my backside." Amongst other things, Joss thought to herself as she felt her blood pressure rise.

"But he's good-looking?" Sameen fished for any information about Joss's grandmother's handyman.

"I'm not answering that," Joss answered hotly.

"So, he is."

"Sameen!"

"You said it, I didn't," Sameen defended herself. "All I did was ask. I'll bet he's gorgeous. Tall, dark, dreamy eyes..." She sighed at the mental picture her brain was creating.

"Don't you have some work to do?" Joss asked.

"Not really. Besides, even if I did, this is much more interesting," Sameen purred.

"I think I can find something for you to do."

"You could, if you were here. But you're not. Does he have a name?"

Joss groaned a sigh. "John."

"Wow. I'm...impressed." Not. Sameen looked around, then lowered her voice to ask, "Is he better looking than Cal?"

"He's...pleasant enough on the eyes," Joss grudgingly admitted without admitting to anything.

"Heh. Speaking of the devil, guess who just walked in. Do you want to talk to him?"

Joss shook her head. "No. Tell Cal I'll call him later. Get back to work; I'm sure there is a stack of files needing attention," she quickly replied. Something that was not lost on the intuitive receptionist.

"Gosh, you're a workhorse even when you're not here."

"Think about it, Sameen. Who knows, in ten years you'll be where I am."

"Oooo, lucky me. Bring me back some Amish apple butter."

"Will do. Bye."

"Bye."

Joss ended the call.

"Pretty interesting conversation," John drawled. Joss turned around to see her roommate leaning against the door frame. He had changed out of his suit and was now wearing old jeans, a t-shirt and ragged plaid flannel shirt. "How is the cat doing?"

"I thought you had given up your habit of eavesdropping." Joss turned toward the fridge and opened the door. She wasn't particularly hungry but looking at the items kept her eyes off of John.

"Some habits are hard to break. Who's Sameen?"

"My receptionist." Joss pulled out the gallon of milk, put it back. "She's taking care of Szymanski."

"She sounds...dependable, albeit a bit intrusive into your personal life," he remarked dryly. "Although I can't recall her relaying how little puss is faring without his mistress."

"She's nosy that way—like some other people I know." Joss took out the Tupperware container, shook it, opened it, then wrinkled her nose. "I think this went bad." She thrust it at John.

"Thanks for finding it." John sauntered over. The scent of his cologne was subtle yet powerful enough to make Joss's knees go weak. He took the container and placed it in the sink.

"They miss me at work." It was only a half-truth, but he didn't need to know anything more.

"Even Cal?"

"None of your business," Joss dismissed before grabbing the gallon of orange juice and abruptly closed the fridge door.

"Boss? Boyfriend?" John threw out the possible links to Joss. "Something more?" He didn't try to hide the implication.

"You were never this nosy when we were kids." She set the jug on the table with a thud.

"Yes, I was," he contradicted. "You forgot."

"I didn't forget, John. I was just trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. My mistake—again."

"If you love him and you're happy with him..." He didn't want to think about Joss being happy with anyone.

"We're happy." Joss reached for a glass. John reached around her and grabbed it first. He handed it to her.

"Here."

"Thanks." Joss poured the juice to the rim and took a sip. Tart and bitter, it wasn't exactly what she had been craving, but it was going to have to do until she could get to the store. A nice, chilled Chardonnay was what she wanted—along with being curled up beside the fireplace with soft music on.

"I'm making coffee." John took down the coffee container and prepared the grounds. A couple of minutes later the sound of the water percolating filled the room. The fresh brewed scent tickled Joss's nose.

"I'll stick with this, thanks," Joss declined. "I want to sleep tonight."

"Good luck. There is another storm moving in." John opened the freezer and took out a couple of items. He reached into the cupboard for a large, deep frying pan. He set it on the stove and turned on the burner.

"Great. I could be in Los Angeles right now soaking up the sun," Joss grumbled.

"You strike me as a sun-worshiper," John quipped as he busily prepared the evening meal. "Toes in the sand, soaking up the rays on the beach, braving the surf," he listed off.

"Nothing wrong with wanting to avoid blizzards and ice," Joss said over the rim of the glass.

"Seventy degrees in winter isn't normal."

"I guess some people like to wait to see if there is going to be snow falling on the first day of summer, or if it's going to be too cold to go picnic at the peninsula on the Fourth," Joss said and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's not normal."

"Well, neither are mudslides and fires every year. Besides, I like having four seasons in a year."

"You say that like you mean it. Think about it, John. You are missing out on some of the most beautiful scenery so you can be stuck in the boonies." She lifted the lid on the cookie jar in the middle of the table and pulled out a few cookies.

"I've been places more beautiful than California," he remarked without turning around. "And I've been to places more remote than the boonies."

Joss gave a small scoff. "Sure. Where?"

"Richmond, Australia; and Naval Station McMurdo, Antartica," he replied simply. The knife blade made a dull thud against the wooden cutting board.

"Wow," Joss replied, chastened by the information. "That is definitely in the middle of nowhere. And colder."

"This is a cake walk." John tossed the vegetables in the pan and stirred.

"I didn't know."

"Eh. Not my worst duty stations, but they helped in my advancement. Although, when all was said and done, it was for naught anyway, so what does it matter?" John asked rhetorically.

"So, you came back here?"

"Nowhere else to go. Sarah needed me, and I thought I might put some of my training to use. The fields were overgrown and the tractor was in need of repairs. Plus the handyman she hired tried to bilk her out of her life savings." He stirred with a wooden spoon and placed the lid on top. He turned around. "Lionel took care of it."

Joss felt anger and sadness at the same time. Her nails dug into the tabletop. "I didn't know."

John shrugged. "It's been taken care of, Joss. Nothing to worry about."

"But how—the money for Taylor's trust fund?"

John poured himself a cup of coffee. He shook his head. "I don't know. She never said a word to me. But knowing Sarah, she had a back-up."

Joss took a deep breath. "What are we going to do for a month? We've had ten days and nearly came to blows," she pointed out matter of factly.

"I have lived under worse conditions."

"I can imagine. But against your will?"

"I'm a survivor."

She had no doubt that he was, but that still didn't answer the question why he decided to chuck a military career and come back to Pennsylvania to help out a woman who wasn't related to him. And it didn't explain why he was single and taking care of a young boy who wasn't his. She had so many questions but didn't know where to begin asking.

"Can we call a truce?" John asked earnestly. "I know these next few weeks are going to be anything but heaven on earth, but I want us to bury the hatchet for Taylor's sake."

"I guess we could," Joss agreed. She stuck out her hand to seal the promise. John shook it. "I was wondering—and you can say no, but I don't think Taylor should be sleeping on the couch. He can sleep in his room and I will take the couch."

"What about your clothes?"

"I don't have much; what I do have I can store in the hall closet."

"It's a pretty uncomfortable couch."

"I've slept on airplanes, so it shouldn't be a problem. It's something I want to do."

John smiled a small smile. "I'm sure that Taylor would love to have his room back." He stood up. "I think I'll make a pineapple upside-down cake for dessert."

Joss laughed shortly. "You know the way to a woman's heart." She stood up and stretched. "I should charge my phone before the next storm hits. Let me know when dinner's ready so I can set the table, okay?"

John waited for her to leave the kitchen before he let out his breath. "I feel that it's going to take more than a cake to get to her heart," he muttered to himself. He just prayed it wasn't true.