Page 29 of On the Line

Even just borrowing George’s money made me nervous, but she’d thought it through more than I was capable of, and I figured that she was right.

Sammy helped with the transaction and before we knew it, we were elbows deep in weeds, clearing the property. We soon learned that Spencer, Jr. was already sprouting in Ellie’s womb and had a courthouse wedding, with Waylan as my best man.

Determined to have a home ready for the baby, Ellie was a workhorse up until a week before she delivered. I worried, but she insisted. By the time Spencer Jr. came along, we’d rebuilt the dock and had a small house on stilts for the three of us.

Life was better than I could have ever dreamed.

But the threat of George returning loomed like a dark cloud in the distance. Would he come back like thunder and strike like lightning?

CHAPTER 14

DECEMBER 24, 2024

Heat billowed from the open oven, blasting me in the face. The blue fish-shaped pot holder slipped, exposing the flesh of my hand to the edge of the Pyrex dish. I flinched, my hand jerking away as Ellie’s Key Lime Cake crashed to the floor, her mother’s glass dish shattering into a million twinkling pieces from one end of the kitchen to the other. “Dammit!” I shouted into the emptiness, flinging the potholder onto the counter. The mess of smoldering lime-infused crumbles splattered across my button-down shirt and slacks.

“Dammit, Ellie. I can’t do anything right without you,” I said into the nothingness I’d yet to become accustomed to. Tears filled my eyes and threatened to spill over. I missed her even more fiercely than I thought possible. Our first Christmas Eve dinner without her wouldn’t be the same, but I was making my best effort for the kids.

Cursing myself for screwing up the one dish I had to make, I got down on hands and knees to scoop up the mess. Thescorching air blowing out from the oven and across my face dried my eyes.

After forty years together, I still didn’t know how I would live without her. We were partners in love and life in every sense. She was my true partner in crime, even when getting out of crime was the primary objective from the start. I did most of the physical work around the marina—running the boats, building and repairing the docks. Ellie ran the business, managed the house, and did the lion’s share of raising the kids.

In the nine months since she’d passed, the boys had stepped up to keep the business running, but I’d lost my my will. There was no joy left in life. But it was Christmas, and I owed it to Ellie, and to our children, to continue our traditions.

Pushing up off the floor, the sticky cake oozing between my fingers, I stepped over to the sink and turned the tap on with my elbow, holding the blooming blister on my hand under the cold stream. The glass crunching under my feet made me glad I hadn’t taken my shoes off at the door like Ellie always insisted. God, I missed her.

The cool water soothed the throbbing in my hand, but not my heart. I sobbed like a child for at least a minute. Blinking through tears, I glanced at the kitchen clock, an orange plastic cat face with its tail swinging back and forth. The relic from Ellie’s aunt’s house, told me I only had half an hour to clean up and get changed.Life was going on with without Ellie, whether I liked it or not.

“Ok, old man, get it together,” I demanded of myself, mustering strength and composure while I dried my handson a kitchen towel hanging off the handle of the stove, wincing from the burn.

Twenty minutes of cleaning later and the kitchen was presentable again, but I was cutting it close. Kicking off my sneakers at the doorway of the kitchen, I padded in socked feet down the hall and to the master bedroom, unbuttoning my light blue button down as I went. I felt guilty seeing the king size bed unmade, but there was no time for that now.“Sorry, Eleanor,” I muttered out loud. For some reason it made me laugh, the thought that I’d never be able to keep up with all that she did.

I grabbed a fresh shirt and slacks from the closet, and as I dropped the dirty ones in the wicker hamper in the bathroom, my arm brushed the edge of Ellie’s wooden jewelry dish, a hand carved driftwood knot that we’d found at a street fair one year when the boys were little. It crashed to the ground, sending her jewelry clinking all around.Seriously?I’d become a total klutz. First her pyrex, and now her jewelry, strewn about the bathroom floor. Served me right for keeping all her things exactly like she left them. I should have put it somewhere safe.

I tilted my head up, and called out to her like I often did. “Are you trying to tell me something, Ellie?” I wished she’d be more specific because I couldn’t see anything other than my own incompetence at trying to live without her.

Back on my hands and knees again, I picked up one of her two gold hoop earrings and fished a hand behind the toilet to search for the other. That’s when I felt the ring. A cold wave washed over me, the memory of placing it there on her dish after she’d died.

I lifted the ring she’d worn for forty years, examining it in the light.

Flanked by delicate golden leaves, the pink conch pearl was as perfect as the day Sammy found it. Running my fingers over the shimmering surface, I let out a sigh. As I carefully placed the ring back on the dish, I thought to myself how nice it would be if I could leave my grief there with it.

“Hey dad,we’re here,” my youngest son’s gruff voice bellowed from the living room.

“Double trouble,” I snickered, happy to have the first of my chicks home for Christmas Eve. I gave Trevor, a.k.a. Trouble, a bear hug before turning to his pretty blonde girlfriend. “I’m so glad to see you again, Corinne.” After I hugged her, too, I told my ornery son, “You’ve got a good one here kiddo. Don’t screw this one up.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “I don’t plan to, Dad.”

“Good.” I slapped him on the back and ruffled his hair. “Did you get me an ugly sweater?”

“Of course we did,” he said. “Well, Corinne did. She said I have terrible taste.”

“Isn’t bad taste the whole point?” I chucked, rubbing my hands together before diving into the Christmas bag she held out. “Ooooh, this is perfect!” I held up the blue and pink sweater with Santa riding a giant flamingo,Fa La La La MINGOembroidered underneath. “This is great! I can’t wait to see yours tomorrow,” I said. “Ugly Christmas sweaters have been our Christmas tradition since before Trevor was born. I’m glad you’ll be part of it this year,” I told Corinne.

“Me, too.” Corinne smiled, holding up a covered glass bowl. “I brought some Ambrosia Salad.”

I took the bowl, peering through the glass side. “Looks just like Ellie’s.”

“Trevor told me it was your favorite,” she said sweetly.

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