An Island Christmas Read Online Free

Jilly picked up the new headgear she’d purchased for him this year, a red felt stocking cap with miniature green felt Christmas trees bobbling above each ear.
    “Not a chance,” George said, stepping backward.
    “It’s specially for the Stroll,” cajoled Jilly. She took the red and white candy-cane-striped muffler she had knit for him and wrapped it around his neck, kissing his cheek as she did. “Try it on. Show some Christmas spirit.”
    “Fine, but I refuse to wear it in the restaurant,” George grumbled.
    Jilly put her Santa hat on, adjusting it so that the fat white pom-pom at the end fell over her shoulder. Taking George’s arm, she twinkled up at him. “Let’s go!”
    As they walked into town, the Gordons began to turn up their coat collars and pull their mufflers tighter aroundtheir necks. No snow had fallen yet, but the day was unseasonably cold, and when they reached Main Street, they saw that the other strollers already had rosy cheeks. They encountered some acquaintances who had their matching corgis on red and green leashes. The dogs and owners alike wore blinking Christmas lights around their necks. The Gordons patted the dogs, greeted the humans, and continued their walk.
    “I’d forgotten that this has really become a dog holiday,” said George.
    “Well, this is a dog island, after all. And the dogs seem happy to be decked out.”
    Jilly pointed at a large yellow Lab wearing reindeer ears. Farther down the street, an elegant white poodle sported a glamorous headband with several sequined white snowflakes attached by springs. And trotting along happily like a well-fed pig, a very fat pug paraded down the street wearing a red satin bow around her neck.
    “What a sweet little puppy,” Jilly cried. “May I pet her?” she asked the owner, who rather resembled a pug herself.
    “Of course,” the owner said. “Her name is Poppy.”
    Jilly knelt and reached out a hand to the pug. Poppy stuck out a peppermint pink tongue and licked Jilly’s hand.
    “Hello, sweetie,” Jilly greeted the puppy. She looked up at her husband. “I wish we had a little dog like this.”
    “Have you ever had a dog?” the pug owner inquired.
    “No,” Jilly answered briefly, not wanting to admit what a neat freak she was. “But maybe …”
    The pug owner continued, “Not to be a Grinch, I only ask because I’d forgotten how much work dogs are. They have to be walked several times a day, and it’s holy murder crawling out of bed early on a dark winter morning to take Poppy out. But she yips and yaps and scratches at the bed until I do. Then there’s the matter of chewing. I can’t tell you how many leather shoes Poppy’s ruined. And she’s not even a big dog, certainly not one of those eternally hungry dogs like yellow Labs who will eat anything, even the contents of wastebaskets, no matter how much you feed them.”
    “Goodness!” Jilly stood up. “I appreciate you warning us about all this.”
    The pug owner replied, “Of course I’m crazy about Poppy, and I won’t give her up. Anyway, Merry Christmas!” With that, the fat little pug and her owner waddled away.
    The Gordons strolled on, crisscrossing the cobblestone streets, stopping to watch Joe Zito and his puppet, Grunge, entertain a flock of children, pausing farther up the street to listen to the Victorian carolers.
    “My stomach’s growling,” George mumbled as “Come All Ye Faithful” ended. “Let’s go eat lunch before the restaurants are too crowded.”
    He steered Jilly toward the Brotherhood, a historic pub with fireplaces, juicy hamburgers, and a full list of wine and beers. He knew what he wanted, but Jilly stared at the menu for so long he thought she’d slipped into a coma.
    “Jilly?”
    “Oh … I guess I’ll have a salad.” Listlessly, she let the menu fall from her hand.
    “You’re kidding. No one eats a salad when it’s so cold. Don’t tell me you’re trying to lose weight over Christmas!” Now he was