Page 19 of A Christmas Harbor

David tensed. “No, not really. Especially my dad.”

“Do they live around here?”

“They retired to Florida. I usually visit them over spring break, which is a lot less emotionally fraught than Christmas. Better for everyone.”

“It’s great you figured that out and stuck to it. Much healthier than forcing yourself to report for holiday son duty.”

“Uh-huh.” Time for an emergency subject-change before Paul asked more questions about his shattered family. “My neighbors invited me to dinner tomorrow.”

“Are you going?”

He shook his head. “I hate feeling like a stray dog.”

“A lot of people love stray dogs. I sure do.” When David regarded him, he looked away, at the lighted schooner making its way upriver. “I wish I’d come to Annapolis sooner, so I could’ve seen that Christmas boat parade. But now I have something cool to look forward to next year.”

Hmph. If he thoughtthatwas cool…

David pulled Paul to a stop, then took hold of his elbows and turned him to face the river. “Stay here.”

ChapterThree

What the hell? It was freezing out, and Paul’s feet weren’t getting any warmer, especially now that his blood had rushed to join the highly anticipated party in his pants.

“Why?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to show you something.” David hurried away down the end of the bridge. “Just stay. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“You’re leaving me alone in the dark?”

“Not for long.” At the edge of the street, David turned and looked up at him. “Do you trust me?”

“I just met you!” Still, the answer was yes. “Hurry up.”

David ran down the sidewalk, disappearing from view.

Paul looked out over the docks. Surprisingly, there were still quite a few boats moored here, though most were cocooned in what looked like translucent shrink wrap. The large red wooden marina building was outlined in white holiday lights, but it was clearly closed, with no discernible human activity.

He leaned against the railing and sighed. Last Christmas Eve at this exact hour, he wouldn’t have believed that a year later he’d be standing over a tributary of the Chesapeake Bay—or anywhere other than the threshold of a restored American Foursquare in a rapidly gentrifying Iowa City neighborhood. But he also wouldn’t have believed his heart would get cracked last Christmas, semi-reassembled on Valentine’s Day, then disintegrated by Easter.

The wind whipped harder, pelting his face with sleet now, each drop poking his cheeks like tiny acupuncture needles. He closed his eyes and tilted down his chin so his forehead would take the brunt, his rumpled bangs providing a bit of a barrier.

What a fucking year it had been. Of course it would have a shitty-weather conclusion.

A bright light shone beyond his eyelids. He lifted them, blinking against the driving ice.

On a small boat docked a few hundred feet away, a mass of turquoise and silver Christmas lights blinked on and off for several beats. Then the blue lights took on a rolling-wave pattern. As each wave crested and curled over, its upper edge turned silver. Sea foam. David had created an ocean.

Then a large green-and-gold shape seemed to arc over the waves: a blunt-headed fish, leaping and diving again and again—or rather, four overlapping fish lined up, glowing in quick succession to give the appearance of one animal’s motion.

Wow. Wow.Wowwas the only word marquee-ing through Paul’s mind, the only word in his wide arsenal of words that did justice to this display.

The light show climaxed as every wave and fish blinked on and off at once. Then the strings of silver and blue lights climbed the mast, culminating in a large gold star at the top. Finally the waves and a single lustrous fish glowed steadily, joining the star.

“Woooooooo!” Paul applauded hard, the leather grips of his gloves amplifying the sound. Then he hurried off the bridge, watching for slick spots on the shiny pavement.

He made his way down the dock and out a narrow wooden pier to David’s boat.Many Waterswas written in blue serif letters along the side.

“That was amazing!” he said as he reached the stern, where David stood in the small cockpit, his head bare now, the sleet in his hair sparkling blue and white. “Were you in that Christmas boat parade contest?”

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