My Kind of Christmas

holidays. That’s what everyone in the family wants. Listen, Luke—see this?” he said, looking across the street to where Patrick and Angie stood talking. “This is Patrick’s second trip into town today. He’s interested in Angie. I don’t think this should happen.”
    “What?”
    “My niece and your brother,” Jack said irritably.
    “Aw, lighten up. Patrick’s a good kid.”
    “He’s no kid,” Jack said. “How old is Patrick?”
    Luke shrugged. “I guess about thirty. Thirty-two. Or three.”
    “Angie is twenty-three. And she needs to go back to school.”
    “What do you expect me to do about it?”
    “I don’t know, exactly. Talk to him. Tell him the girl is barely out of high school and he needs to move on.”
    “Aw, Jack…” Luke shook his head. “She’s out of college . And she’s smart. I mean—valedictorian? I’m lucky I graduated high school.”
    “He’s been in the bar, and I hate to say it about one of your brothers, but he’s got attitude, Luke. Doesn’t talk, isn’t friendly, acts all fucked up and miserable. And you say his wingman went down? Angie can’t take on stuff like that. She’s just a girl. A girl with her own issues.”
    Luke started to laugh.
    “What’s funny?” Jack asked.
    “He looks pretty friendly to me,” Luke said.
    And sure enough, Patrick was smiling. Laughing. Touching her with familiarity.
    Jack cringed. “Ah, dammit, he’s playing around with her hair!”
    Luke laughed a little harder. “I’ve played with hair…you’ve played with hair....”
    “She’s too young! She’s barely recovered from a bad car accident!” He grumbled something and then said, “I’m responsible for her.”
    “Well, she’s over twenty-one so I bet she doesn’t let you stand responsible for too much.”
    “You got that right,” he muttered. “Her mother is my older sister. I really don’t want to go a round with her. She’s a pain in my ass.”
    “Then don’t. You better ease up, Jack. I don’t think you’re going to have much influence here. And I could talk to him, but it wouldn’t do any good.”
    “I don’t want that to happen,” he said glumly.
    “Out of my hands. He’s a Riordan. The fact that he’s always been a real docile and sweet Riordan makes no difference at all.”
    “Look, I like you Riordan boys just fine,” Jack said. “But the lot of you—you’re scrappy, you’re ornery and you’re like heat-seeking missiles. That’s my niece!”
    “Yeah, Riordans are a lot like Jack Sheridan,” Luke pointed out.
    “Irrelevant,” Jack said.
    “That Riordan…if he’s got his eye on a target—hey, nothing any of us can do. That’s just how it is. You of all people should understand that. Besides, at thirty-eight I married a twenty-five-year-old and no one had a headache about that.”
    “As I recall, her uncle was a little annoyed....”
    “We had some things to work out, me and Uncle Walt. But the rest of you old boys just laughed at me, said I’d be going to college graduations with a walker.”
    Jack ground his teeth. Then, while he watched Angie and Patrick, he asked, “You and Shelby planning more kids?”
    “Why?”
    “Because I wish a girl on you!” And then Jack stomped off into the bar.
    * * *
    Angie couldn’t help how she felt when she saw Patrick standing across the street watching her. He’d come back. If he’d just gone into the bar, it wouldn’t have meant as much, but he had no interest in the bar—he wanted to see her in the cherry picker. It was like he was rooting for her.
    And she wanted him to see her.
    She walked across the street to him. “You got your ride,” he said.
    “I did. Is Uncle Jack still watching me?”
    “Oh, yes,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets and laughing a little. “He’s going to be a problem, isn’t he?”
    “Completely.”
    “How would you like to handle that?” Patrick asked.
    “Do you think if we ignore him, he’ll go away?”
    “I have my doubts,” Patrick said. “He’s a little on the grouchy side.”
    “So are you,” she pointed out.
    “Aw, I’m coming around. He isn’t going to beat me up, is he?”
    “If he does, I’ll never speak to him again and, trust me, that would sting. I’m his favorite. He doesn’t admit that because he has a whole flock of nieces, but I am his favorite. But I’m getting a little bored with this—he’s treating me like a twelve-year-old virgin.”
    Patrick risked his life by fingering a strand of