NEVER ALONE ON CHRISTMAS Chapter Three by Brenda Whiteside

“I was thinking about leaving, Mae.” Adele’s voice was flat.

“Oh, Adele, it isn’t so late yet.” Mae’s brow wrinkled, and she clasped her hands to her chest.

His hopes rose. “Now Mae, if Adele would prefer to go, I would be happy to see you safely home. I have my car parked on the other side of the river. If you don’t mind riding the ferry boat across, I could see you to your door.”

The long-faced woman frowned an obvious “don’t do it” expression.

But Mae didn’t hesitate. “Thank you, Jonathan. I wouldn’t mind a ferry boat ride.”

Her friend pushed her chair back from the table and glared. “I’ll leave, but it’s not a good idea. I want you to call me when you get home.” With a huff, she stomped away.

Mae’s cheeks pinked. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. Adele surely has a vivid imagination. She really is quite a nice person.”

It was nothing new to Jonathan. Choosing one female at a table over another, leaving one scorned was a way of life. He was lucky to be rid of Adele so quickly. There was a time when he could play this scene out for several hours and not whittle it down to one woman until an hour before last call for alcohol. But those were days gone by, and the nights seemed shorter now. It wasn’t that his pace was any slower than it used to be; he preferred a different style now. That’s what it was, merely his new style.

Besides, he had a feeling about Mae.

Another hour of dancing and talking. He learned Mae had enough money to live comfortably. One son lived in Michigan. She’d seen many a fun time with her husband. Now, she enjoyed the heat, the river, an occasional night at the casino, and she’d forgotten how much she loved to dance. He listened until nearing ten o’clock.

“Jonathan, I’ve really enjoyed myself, but I need to get home and let out my dog.”

“What kind of dog?”

“Puddin’ is a Chihuahua.”

“Chihuahuas are my favorite dog.” Jonathan told her, not entirely dishonest. He’d never considered what kind of dog he liked. But if Mae liked them, he could, too.

They rode the boat from Nevada to the Arizona side. The air was dry, tinged with the scent of fish, and cool. As they ferried across, Jonathan didn’t miss the opportunity to tell Mae how she shone in the moonlight. In fact, the moonlight paled in comparison. By the time he’d driven her to her door, it was important to Mae he come in for a moment and meet Puddin’. And when they realized it was eleven o’clock and watching the reruns of Jeopardy was a nightly habit they had in common, another half an hour passed pleasantly. Plans were made for the following evening, and he kissed her gently on the cheek.

****

Most evenings they sat on her patio and watched the sun extinguish itself as it washed red and orange over the mountains, glistening in the Colorado River, until the final embers settled in hues of smoky purple. The sparkling river twinkled brighter than his diamond cufflinks. He found the richness of the desert colors more gratifying than the nightlights he’d chased for so many years.

“Mae.” He took her hand one evening as they gazed across the river. Puddin’, lounged in his lap and licked their entwined fingers resting on his thigh. “You’re a precious woman.”

“I do enjoy your company, Jonathan. But…”

His heart pinched. Had he found his forever only to have it yanked from his grasp? Had he misread the sweetness Mae showered on him?

Her pale blue eyes blinked as she appeared to search for the right words. “I know you’re a worldly man, and from what we’ve told each other about our pasts, you require variety in your life, where as I’m satisfied with my quiet existence here. I treasure each day now, and although you and I may only share a short time—”

“Are you ill?”

“Ill? No. Why do you ask?”

“It sounded like…never mind.” He squeezed her hand as his heart returned to normal. “I treasure you.” The thought of living without Mae, the river, and the desert chilled his arms as if the last rays of the sun refused to warm him.

Puddin’ gave his fingers one last lick and buried his nose in the fold of Jonathan’s slacks.

“You won’t get bored? With me? With us?”

He’d always had a golden tongue and a way with the ladies. But glib conversation escaped him. This moment required more. He brought her fingers to his lips and brushed them with a kiss. “No.”

Three days before Christmas, Jonathan moved in with Mae. He found his new style of living fit him better than the two dozen polyester shirts and leather dancing shoes taking up more than half of Mae’s closet.

He sold the gold bracelet from Lola to buy Christmas gifts for the dog and Mae. Jonathan beamed with the new life he’d found when he opened his gift of a coffee mug that said “Puddin’s Papa” on their first Christmas.

Twice a week they rode the ferry across the Colorado River and ate dinner at the Riverside Casino, dancing afterwards until it was time to go home and let out Puddin’.

And Puddin’s Papa was never alone on Christmas again.

I hope you enjoyed my contribution to Ringing in the Holidays. Please come back tomorrow for Jannine Gallant's story.

If you'd like to learn more about my novels and stories, please go to www.brendawhiteside.com.

NEVER ALONE ON CHRISTMAS Chapter Two by Brenda Whiteside

The bartender glanced up and down the bar. When no new customers presented themselves, he leaned on his elbows in front of Jonathan. “Ruby in L. A. and, I think you said, Lola in Las Vegas was your third wife. Who and where did number two strike?”

He stared into his glass and sighed. “Might not have been a number three, if I’d been a wiser man.” But then he wouldn’t have met Lola, and that would’ve been a shame. “Ethel was a handsome woman.”

Since she was moneyed from a previous marriage, and since his sons were on their own, he’d been able to assume the role he’d chosen as a no-responsibilities-female-loving kind of guy. Finding the financial means to enjoy his idea of retirement had been the dilemma until he’d found Ethel. In wife number two, with her love of fun and a seemingly endless supply of money, he’d found his means.

“Ethel stood nearly six feet tall, and in our stocking feet, we met eye to eye.” Her girth was almost too much for him to get his arms around, but she was strong and nimble, which relieved him of any real work around the house. “She was a beauty that favored bright colored dresses and layers of jewelry.”

“Sounds like you strayed from the golden goose.”

“That I did.” He considered the unflattering characterization the bartender coined. “And got what I deserved. A cocktail waitress at the Palomino Club turned my head one night. If my hand hadn’t been where it was and one of Ethel’s friends hadn’t seen me and blabbed…well, I might still be married.” He shrugged. That little gal was so sweet and firmer than anything he’d had since he was eighteen. He remembered thinking she’d probably be the last young thing he’d ever touch again.

“A lesson learned, Carl. A man has to know his limitations and embrace his age at some point in life.” He was damn good with the women, but he wasn’t getting any younger. About time he got wiser.

Marriage number two ended with Ethel’s quietly spoken words.

“Jonny, you’re a no good two timing, drunken Indian. It’s no wonder your first wife ended up in the nut house. It’s beyond me how you raised two boys to be such good human beings when you’re so loathsome. Now get out of my house.”

Yep, lesson learned. Then he’d met Lola. And damned if his new style couldn’t have seen him through the rest of his life…if she hadn’t died.

“Hey, barkeep. Can I get a vodka tonic?” A voice called out at the end of the bar. Carl tapped the wood, nodded, and shuffled away.

Multi-colored lights suddenly blinked around the edge of the bar, and in a corner by the stage a Christmas tree came to life. “Looks like the holidays have come to Laughlin.” His chest went hollow. He chided himself. It wasn’t possible to get to the boys this year, but he’d damn well find a way to celebrate.

He hated spending Christmas alone.

Jonathan heard the music in the lounge start up. As his white patent leather shoes touched the floor, he nearly danced out of the bar and over to the adjoining lounge. Standing behind the brass rail separating the lounge from the casino, he flexed his biceps under the snug fitting, shiny polyester shirt and tapped his right foot to the music. The four-piece band played standard pop tunes from the past five decades. Jonathan watched the couples moving back and forth, up and down, no one touching, no one twirling.

“I need to show these people how it’s done.” He’d had the same thought every night for a week, and although he managed two dances three nights ago, the clientele during the week consisted mostly of retired couples and newlyweds. Tonight, Friday night, would bring in the local ladies and the people up from Phoenix.

The band launched into a fifties rock and roll tune. He stepped into the lounge and approached a table of four women. They appeared to be two sets of mothers and daughters.

“Would any of you lovely ladies care to jitterbug?”

The dark-haired mother on his right smiled. “I can do that.”

He took her hand. The wedding ring pressed into his palm as he led her to the middle of the square dance floor. This would be a one-dance lady. He started with a simple step until he judged her ability as fair, then led her into a sideways maneuver and a twirl. She was tight and a touch off beat, but he managed to turn it into a pretty fair display.

He scanned the tables as they danced around his arena until two women sitting next to the Christmas tree caught his eye. He had their full attention. Jonathan smiled and dipped, keeping the beat and rhythm of his moves at pace with the fast music. While everyone around the couple bobbed up and down in solitary fashion, he and his partner moved through in harmony.

When the song ended, he bent slightly forward, knees locked in a gallant bow. “Thank you, lovely lady.”

After escorting her back to her friends, he strolled across the dance floor to the two women bathed in the lights from the tree. “Good evening, ladies. I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here and hoped you might allow me to buy you a drink.”

“Only if you’ll sit and have one with us.” The thin brunette with a wide smile and a long face spoke up.

“I would be most honored. My name is Jonathan Jay Somefun.”

“Well Jonny, ain’t that the truth.” A high pitch giggle erupted. “My name is Adele, and this here’s Mae. We sure did enjoy your dancing.” She batted lashes over narrow-set eyes.

He tipped his head in thanks, glanced at Mae, and met her pale blue gaze with a smile. He judged both women to be near sixty, no wedding rings, and not tourists. Mae was short, a little round in a matronly way, with cropped silver-white hair that sparkled with the tree lights. She had a close-mouthed smile and eyes that saw beyond his polyester shirt. The band began their rendition of “Money for Nothing”.

With his gaze still on Mae, he asked, “Do you ladies dance?”

They both spoke at once. Adele gushed, “Oh no, Jonny, not like that!” While Mae answered quietly, “As a matter of fact, I do, Jonathan.”

The use of his full name, her quiet reply, and steady gaze dimmed the surroundings. She had his full attention. “Well, then, this song sounds like a good one. May I have the pleasure?” He dipped his head and held out a hand. “Adele, do you mind? Maybe you could catch the cocktail waitress for our drinks?”

He sensed the confidence in Mae’s step and didn’t hold back as the jitterbug began. She followed with grace and rhythm. The fast song led right into a slow one, an old Johnny Mathis song, “When I Fall in Love”. Since Mae gave no indication of wanting to return to the table, he pulled her respectfully closer.

With a deep breath of her lilac scent, he cocked his head at an angle to address her. “Mae, you are a fine dancer. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy dancing with an attractive woman who knows her way around the dance floor.”

She murmured a quiet thank you.

“Do you live around here?”

She nodded. “In Bullhead.”

“What do you know? So do I. Just moved here a couple of weeks ago. How ‘bout you?”

“I’ve lived here for five years. After my husband died, I decided to retire here.” She glanced toward her friend. “I knew Adele and her daughter, so it was easy.”

He lowered his voice, expressing true sympathy, yet flushed happily with the news. “I’m sorry to hear about your husband. Were you married long?”

“Thank you, Jonathan.” Her sweet smile returned. “Oh yes, thirty five years.”

“Well, isn’t that wonderful.” He pressed his fingers gently into her back. “Marriage is a great and honorable thing. Although I am currently single, I much prefer the married life myself.”

“Do you?” Her smile widened. “I guess I would say so, too. I’ve been having quite a time living close to all this nightlife. Although after a while, every night is a little bit the same.” She batted her eyelids and dipped her chin before gazing into his face again. “But I thought you would be more the partying type.”

“Now Mae, why would you say that?”

“Well, Jonathan, you dance so beautifully and seem to have a way about yourself.”

“And you, too, dance beautifully, and I’ve seen the men looking at you.”

Mae was artfully flattered and held her head a notch higher as he smiled down on her.

The dance ended, and as they stepped back from each other, still holding hands, a disco song from the 70’s began. He twirled her twice, and they danced once more, Jonathan lavishing the compliments all the while, before returning to the table and a bored looking Adele.
Please come back for the conclusion tomorrow!

NEVER ALONE ON CHRISTMAS by Brenda Whiteside

A ringing phone at two in the morning never brought good news.

Jonathan Jay Somefun blinked at the orange iridescent numbers. The phone rang a second time as the digital readout rolled over to 2:01. Still, he didn’t move. Last time, it was the hospital, but Lola was gone. Fourth ring. Fifth ring. He couldn’t think of anything bad that could be waiting on the other side of the call. His elbow creaked as he stretched to grab the receiver.

“`Lo?”

“Hey, Dad, I wanted to give you an early Christmas present.”

His oldest son, living in Austria, hadn’t allowed for the time difference. “David? Nothing’s wrong?” He rubbed his eyes and swung his feet over the edge of the bed.

“No, Dad. Everything’s fine. You’re a grandpa for the third time. It’s a boy!”

“A boy? Ah, that’s great, Son. How’s Annie doing?”

“Great. She sends her love and says Merry Christmas. We wanted you to know that Jonathan Derrick Somefun entered the world tonight.”

He opened his mouth in exclamation, but his throat tightened. He swallowed. “Why, son…I’m…well, thanks.”

“He’s got lots of thick black hair and looks just like his grandpa.”

“Let’s hope he grows out of that.”

David laughed. “I’ll let you get back to sleep, Dad. Sure wish we could see you for Christmas.” The sound of a scraping chair. His son cleared his throat. “You have someone special to spend it with, don’t you?”

“You know I do.” Couldn’t let him worry. “Give Annie and little…Jonathan a kiss.”

“Love you, Dad. Bye.”

He set the phone back on the nightstand. Ain’t that something? Another Jonathan Somefun. He chuckled and settled back into bed. Staring into the dark, the contented feeling subsided as he thought about the call in the night a few years back.

Lola had been a good woman. Her orange hair complemented his dark Choctaw skin when she walked next to him. Her plain face wasn’t too wrinkled for a woman nearly sixty. She’d work an extra shift at the hospital now and then, just so she could buy her man fine furnishings. His wardrobe had flourished. And for their one Christmas together, she’d given him a gold bracelet. He crossed his arms over his chest, the metal of the jewelry cool on his skin, and the memory of her smile on that morning warm in his heart.

“You’re my Jonny Jay, and you should dress like uptown,” Lola would tell him. “Las Vegas has never seen such a sight as you. And when you dance, well, I think the Tropicana is going to find out and start a male revue just for you.”

He laughed out loud.

In the eight months they had been married, he’d never even looked at another woman. Lola just might have been the perfect one. No one had known Lola had cancer. Not even Lola. Until she’d passed out working the mid shift in the hospital cafeteria. That had been a Wednesday. She’d died on Sunday.

Las Vegas and Phoenix behind him. L. A. just a memory. Now, in Bullhead City, Arizona...what next? He scrunched deeper under the covers, shrugged his shoulders and head against the pillow, and closed his eyes turning his thoughts to his newborn namesake.

A ringing phone could bring good news at two in the morning.

He’d told his son he wouldn’t be alone for Christmas. We’ll see.

****

Jonathan jiggled his drink, clinking the ice cubes as he sat on the same stool he’d posed on the last four nights at the Riverside Casino bar. He glanced toward the stage where the band would play later. A drink and a few turns around the dance floor kept a man’s heart in good shape; kept a man’s youth from fading entirely.

“So how’s it hangin’ tonight, Somefun?” The bartender slid a fresh napkin under Jonathan’s glass.

He liked being called Somefun, and he liked the way the bartender paused between some and fun. Women always seemed to call him Jonny, and men usually tagged him JJ.

“Hey, Carl, the night is young, and so am I.”

The bartender laughed. “Are you going to hit the dance floor tonight, Somefun? Show these tourists and river rats how?”

“Damn straight!” He offered a wide grin. “That is, if there’s any decent women in the house tonight.”

Carl leaned his elbows on the bar. “Just how decent does she have to be?”

“Not that decent.”

He found it easy conversing with bartenders. As an underage, Native American kid bar hopping in Los Angeles, engaging the barkeeps had been necessary so they didn’t question his ethnicity. In the 50’s, there had still been some bars that refused to sell whiskey to American Indians. So, Somefun had become Ramirez, passing himself off as a smooth talking Mexican-American. He still carried his fake I. D. pressed between his Social Security card and a picture of his sons when they were four and five.

A woman in her twenties slid onto the stool one over and ordered a Margarita. Carl gave him a wink. He considered moving closer, but only for an instant. He took in the long, blonde hair pulled back in a pink ribbon, slim arms, and clean-scrubbed face. He smelled the scent of lemons through the smoke of the casino. Way too young, he judged. Seventy-six years of experience and his cosmopolitan point of view would overwhelm her.

Jonathan Jay Somefun needs a mature, worldly woman. And maybe this time, one a little tired of seeing the world. The past year with Josephine had worn him down. He hadn’t admitted it at the time. For the sake of his waistline, he cut back on the booze and needed a few more hours of beauty sleep each night. He’d called it his new style, but Josephine had just called him old. He hadn’t cheated on her either. His new style had changed that pattern. But after six months, the dew was off the pumkin. Josephine was no spring chicky. Her makeup reminded him of war paint. And when she’d gone on the warpath, he’d loaded up two suitcases of new clothes and four pairs of leather shoes. The year hadn’t been a total loss. But trying to get over Lola with the likes of Josephine hadn’t been one of his finer moments.

It had been time to leave Phoenix anyway. The atmosphere had sapped his vitality like a leech sucking on blood-starved muscles.

The blonde didn’t look his way, picked up her drink, and headed for the dance floor.

“Need another one?” Carl nodded at his half-empty glass.

“Nah. Not yet.” He gazed out the window behind the bar. The lights from both banks of the river reflected on the black surface in wavy gyrations.

It was a good move, coming to Bullhead City, a town with dry, clean air, stretching sinuously alongside the Colorado River. The casinos of Laughlin littered the banks on the Nevada side. During the day, the barren, rocky shoreline was alive with pleasure boaters and jet-skiers sunning or parking to migrate into the casinos. After the sun burned out, the lights of the gambling houses set the river on fire. Dropping cash at the tables gave them a buzz the fast craft couldn’t supply.

“Hey, Carl, I ever tell you about my boys? David is a minister, and Larry is a lawyer. Raised ‘em myself.” His chest puffed with pride whenever he spoke of his children. “I’m a granddad three times over.”

“Which wife you stay with long enough to get you two kids?”

“Ruby, my first one.”

Carl set two beers on the counter and popped the lids. “How many wives you had, Somefun?”

“Only three. Not so many.”

The bartender stepped away, handed off the beers, and returned. “And how many women you had?”

“Now, Carl, I ain’t one to kiss and tell, but there’s been a sight more of those. And I reckon a few more to go.” He raised his glass in a toast and took a drink.

Carl laughed. “So you left L. A. lookin’ for that next Mrs. Somefun? That one particular beauty?”

“Arizona, L. A., or Timbuktu—they’re all beauties.”

To be continued, Chapter Two, tomorrow...