"Brian my boy," Robyn said, "How are they treating you at work?"
"Fine," he said, "except it is five days before Christmas, the work piles up, and I miss the lake house."
"We will always have our memories of summer and the hope for a new year full of adventure," Robyn said.
Brian flashed that look of melancholy, a wry smile crossed his lips. The sun tanned face that he had carefully groomed all summer long was now long gone. His face was pale, the look the Irish get when the winter fog sets in.
Brian turned and forlornly went back to work.
From his desk, piled high with messages and memos, and a lukewarm cup of coffee he added, "Robyn, if I don't see you until next year, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. By the way what are you wishing for this Christmas?"
"What I always wish for, Peace on Earth."
But what she really wanted was one golden ring.