by A. L. Jambor
"Mari, it's freezing out here."
She sighed again. "Okay, okay, sorry, Celia."
She took the knife out of the plastic bag, and then threw it as far as she could into the ocean.
"It's gonna come back," she said.
"The current will take it out," Phil said. "It will sink. Maybe it will get stuck in something."
"Not someone's foot I hope."
"Do the other one."
Mari took the spoon out of the bag and threw it, too.
"That's for Charlotte. I'm glad we know your baby had a good life."
The scarf sent Phil's breaths upward, and his glasses were foggy.
"Can we go now?"
He began to walk back to the boardwalk and she ran to catch up to him. When they reached their car, Mari opened the door and Phil slid inside, put on his seatbelt, and wrapped his arms around himself. Mari watched him trying to get warm, and thought it was the most endearing thing she'd ever seen. Phil loved to be in control, and watching him fighting the elements like Admiral Perry on his expedition to the North Pole made her smile.
"How do you feel about him?" Cassie had asked.
I love him, she thought.
Just like that. No doubt, or fear, or questions to be answered. She loved him, and now she knew.
"I love you," she said softly.
Phil glanced at her. "What?"
"Take off your ear muffs." He lifted one side. "I love you."
Phil pulled the scarf down and smiled. The sweetness of that smile washed over her like a warm spring rain. Mari slid over and took his face in her hands.
"I love you."
"Me, too," he said. "You've never said it before."
"There's something about you looking helpless that made me see it."
"So, if I just let myself fall apart, that will please you."
"Absolutely."
She kissed him, and he put his arm around her, pulling her close.
"Are you cold now?" she asked.
"I'm warming up."
"Do you think the cops will notice if our windows fog up?"
"Screw them," he said.
Phil unbuckled his seatbelt, and Mari unbuckled his pants.
*****
When they returned to Cassie's, they heated up the leftover food from the night before and ate in the dining room. Phil kept smiling, almost grinning, and Mari enjoyed the warm feelings his presence engendered. It had been a long time since she'd trusted anyone, and she knew without a doubt that she could always trust Phil. She couldn't always rely on her own mind anymore, so she was glad to have something, someone to hold onto.
Cassie and Joey came home and joined them at the table.
"Mama is home," Cassie said. "She saw that I was exhausted and sent me home. I think she wants to rest and having Joey there was too much."
"Grandma was tired," Joey said.
"So, you two are going to England?"
"Yes, we are," Phil said.
"I can't wait," Mari said.
"Well, bring me back something I can't get here."
They spent the rest of the afternoon looking at Joey play with his toys. Mari and Phil left around four because they had to catch a plane in two days and Phil wanted to start packing. They hugged and kissed Cassie and Joey, and Mari held onto her friend.
"I love him," she said.
Cassie tightened her hug. "Did you tell him?"
"Yes."
"You be good to him."
"I will."
Cassie and Joey waved from the door as they drove away. The parkway was packed with holiday traffic and Mari, who had let Phil drive, laid her head on his shoulder.
"You should put on your seatbelt," he said.
"I trust you."
"It's not a matter of trusting me. What about the other traffic? What if a cop stops us?"
She reached behind her and grabbed the seatbelt, put it on, and then began to tickle the back of Phil's hand. He tried not to smile, but she wouldn't stop until he did.
"Stop that," he said. "You know I'm right."
"Are you happy with me, Phil?"
"Of course, I'm happy."
Mari felt happy, too. She was going to England with her best friend, her lover, the best man she'd ever known.
Yes, Phil was going to England with her, and for the first time in her life, all was right in Mari's world.
*****
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*****
Here is an excerpt from another full novel by A.L. Jambor called Their Best Years.
Chapter 1
In 1705, Jedediah Truelock, a whaler with a ship named Waquoit, won a piece of land on Cape Cod, a peninsula attached to Massachusetts Colony. His luck held out as he also won the hand of pretty Martha Bromley, a sixteen-year-old girl whose father would agree to the nuptials only if Jedediah provided a proper home for his comely daughter. Jedediah built a fine cabin, and on July 5, 1705, he wed Martha.
Jed returned every two years to see his bride, and every year he left her with another child in her belly. Martha bore six children, but only two survived -- Ansel and Joseph. Joseph loved the sea and from the age of nine accompanied his father on his whaling expeditions. Ansel was a wanderer who, when he turned thirteen, left the cabin and his mother to fight Indians in New York. He was never seen again.
During one of their expeditions, Jed was lost at sea. Some of his crew believed that Joseph was responsible, but the boy, now a strapping young man, could put the fear of God in any man with one glance of his crystal blue eyes. When he said his father fell overboard, no one questioned him further.
Joseph was a seafaring man. He liked heading to different ports, spending his life on the deck of a ship. His mother often said that the Truelock men were born with saltwater in their veins, and Joseph most of all. She was surprised when her son brought home his new bride, Wilma Walz, a girl he had met in Boston. Joseph married Wilma after her father had discovered she was pregnant with Joseph's child. After the ceremony, Joseph took Wilma to the cabin on the cape and left her with Martha while he returned to the sea.
Wilma was a lazy girl who rarely lifted a finger to help her mother-in-law. At first, Martha was overjoyed to have the company of another female, but her joy soon turned to frustration. When Wilma delivered a son, Lawrence, she ignored him as she had her chores, forcing Martha to take on the burden of his care.
When Joseph appeared at the cabin door two years later, he bedded his slothful mate and impregnated her again. Martha railed at him, scolding him for his neglect. He reminded her that his father had done the same and that she was a guest in his house now and had better mind her tongue. For a short while, Martha pondered leaving the cabin to return to her father's home in Eastham, but she feared her daughter-in-law's neglect would cause baby Lawrence to suffer. She loved the toddler and chose to stay and protect him, and in doing so, forsook her own happiness.
Wilma gave birth to a second son, Homer, and died shortly thereafter, leaving Martha to rear another infant. Martha was grateful for Homer's easygoing personality. He was a good baby, and as he grew older, shared Martha's love of reading. They would often read from a book Martha brought with her when she married, The Works of William Shakespeare, and they bonded over the Bard's prose.
Lawrence, however, was a scalawag, the kind of boy a father like Joseph could boast about. He was brash and bullied his meek little brother by teasing him and physically overwhelming him. Martha would often find Lawrence holding Homer down on the floor yelling, "Surrender!" Homer would be in tears, and when Martha pulled them apart, Lawrence would sneer at him.
"Coward," Lawrence would say.
Martha was at a loss as to what to do with Lawrence. He was ge
tting too big for her to handle, so the year Lawrence turned nine, she decided it was time for him to go to sea with his father. The next time Joseph came home for a visit, she told him Lawrence would be going with him when he returned to the sea.
Eastham was the town closest to the Truelock cabin. At some point in time, locals began calling it North Eastham. It was a desolate, lonely place, but there were some who appreciated its charms. Martha had been born there and had grown up along its shores. She loved to walk on the beach as the sun came up. Homer, too, loved looking at the water, but he had no desire to go whaling.
Homer wanted to go to school, and with the money Joseph left her to live on, Martha was able to find him a spot at a boarding school in Boston. She loved the boy and cried as she bid him farewell the day he left for Boston. Homer was fourteen when he boarded a ship in Weymouth for Boston Harbor and cried as he watched Martha waving to him from the dock.
At sixteen, Lawrence had grown weary of whaling and, when his ship weighed anchor in Boston Harbor, chose to stay there rather than go out to sea again. He was adept at cards and won every hand. He had a special place -- a corner table in a tavern called The Headless Wolf where he took on all comers.
For two years, Lawrence made enough to live on and thought his life was set until one night; Joseph came into the tavern and dragged him out by his ear. Joseph had been to North Eastham. He had assumed Lawrence and Homer were living there with Martha. He didn't know where Homer was, but he assumed he would find his eldest son at the tavern.
Joseph was angry with Lawrence for leaving his grandmother alone in the cabin. He never mentioned Homer, and Lawrence thought his father had gone mad.
"Homer is with her," Lawrence said. "Why don't you cuff him, old man?"
Lawrence was tall, almost six feet, and towered above his bandy father.
"He was nowhere to be found," Joseph said. "I expect he took off when she died."
"She died?" Lawrence said.
"Found her in the garden behind the cabin. You should be ashamed of yourself."
As Joseph dressed him down, Lawrence's frustration boiled over. He was eighteen and had been on his own for two years. He'd had a winning hand when Joseph barged in, and he would have to forfeit his money if he didn't return to the table soon.
Lawrence looked around. It had been snowing for several hours. It was dark, and the streets were empty. He looked down at Joseph and pushed him as hard as he could against the corner of the tavern's stone wall. Joseph's head hit the stone surface and cracked open, spilling blood on the pristine snow.
Lawrence looked around again before picking up his father's lifeless body. He took it across the road to the docks and let it slip into the water. The tide would take it out to sea. He walked back to the tavern and used snow to wipe the blood from the wall. More snow was falling. It would cover his sin.
When Lawrence returned to the card table, he had lost his money but made up for it with the next hand.
*****
Homer was a smart boy. He excelled in his classes and made plans for his future. The school was located near the docks and Homer would often walk along the road facing the harbor, making notes on which businesses were successful and which were not. He found that taverns were continuously profitable and began to calculate what he would need to open one.
Homer knew that his father, while not wealthy, made a good living from his whaling, and felt that Joseph should stake him for a thousand pounds. In return, Homer would renounce his claim to the land in North Eastham.
The day he graduated in 1754, Homer went to the docks. He hoped to find out when his father's ship was due to return. He was surprised to see the Waquoit sitting next to one of the docks. He questioned some of the crew and was told that Joseph had been missing for over a month and that they were growing restless.
Homer knew Lawrence frequented The Headless Wolf and went to the tavern. He found his brother sitting opposite a Virginia farmer whose newly purchased Negro slaves were being offered as a bet in lieu of cash. Lawrence had already won the man's coins and wasn't sure he wanted the slaves, but one, a beautiful Negress, had stirred his loins, so he agreed to the bet.
Lawrence was also eager to depart Boston as his father's crew had been making inquiries into Joseph's disappearance. If he won the Negroes, he would take them to the cabin and stay there until spring. Then he would take the Waquoit out himself, claiming that since his father had disappeared, he would be taking over his business until Joseph was found.
Lawrence's disdain for his younger brother didn't cease when he left home for the sea, and the brothers maintained a comfortable distance throughout their adolescence. When Homer entered the tavern and came alongside Lawrence, Lawrence looked up at his brother and for a moment, thought he was Joseph. Homer had the beginnings of a beard, and he was the same height as their father. For a second, Lawrence was unable to speak. When he found his tongue, he derided Homer.
"Well, look who's here? My little brother."
Homer flinched. He recalled the way Lawrence held him down. He cleared his throat.
"Have you seen our father?" Homer asked.
Lawrence was looking at his cards. "He came in here a month ago. I haven't seen him since."
"He wouldn't leave his ship," Homer said.
"He does what he wants. He always has."
"But he wouldn't leave his ship, Lawrence. He'd never do that. Something must have happened to him."
Homer stared at Lawrence. Homer saw the muscle in his jaw twitch. Lawrence played his hand without saying a word.
"Lawrence, we have to go to the police."
Lawrence played the hand and won the slaves. The farmer threw down his cards in disgust and signed the bills of sale over to Lawrence.
"My wife will have my head," the man said.
"She shouldn't have sent you alone to buy them," Lawrence said.
"Lawrence..." Homer said.
Lawrence stood. He looked down at Homer and sneered. Lawrence recalled Joseph ridiculing his younger son, saying he'd make some man a good wife someday. He suddenly grabbed the back of Homer's coat, pushed him out the tavern door, and up against the wall.
"I don't know what happened to him," Lawrence hissed. "If he doesn't show up by spring, I'll take the ship out myself."
"What about his crew?" Homer asked. He was watching Lawrence's eyes. He sensed that Lawrence knew more about what happened to Joseph than he let on.
"I'll pay them."
"You have enough for that?" Homer asked.
"It's not your business."
"It is my business. I have a stake in it, too."
"How do you have a stake in it? You never once set foot on that ship."
"If he's...dead, then I get half that ship. Half the land, too."
Lawrence put his hand on Homer's throat. "You never spent a day on that ship. When Father goes, it's mine."
Homer didn't back down. He pushed Lawrence's hand away. "Give me a thousand pounds and you'll never see me again."
"Are you mad?" Lawrence said.
"You said you could pay the crew."
"That's different. That's a business investment."
"So is this. It gives you the ship and the land free and clear. I'll even sign something saying I won't make a claim on it later on."
Lawrence felt the gold coins hanging in a pouch attached to his belt. He didn't have a thousand pounds, but if he could get Homer out of his life for good, he'd find a way to make the money.
"I don't have that much," Lawrence said.
"Give me what you have."
Lawrence had never seen this side of Homer. He used to beg Lawrence to let him go. But this man, he was strong and determined, and he wasn't afraid.
Homer understood Lawrence. He wanted to throw Lawrence off balance. Homer could see him wavering.
Lawrence took his hand away from Homer's throat and felt the pouch.
"Maybe two hundred pounds."
"I'll take a hundred and fifty. I
don't want to leave you without a stake for the next game."
Lawrence took the pouch off his belt and opened it. He counted the coins as he placed them in Homer's hand.
"Less than you thought," Homer said. "That's ninety-five. I'll come back for the rest."
"Give me six months. I'll have it for you by then."
As they stood near the tavern, a constable passed by. Lawrence stiffened until the man had passed. Homer smiled.
"I'll see you then."
Homer walked away. He'd have to find a job for a while, perhaps in a tavern so he could learn the trade. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Lawrence watching him. Lawrence knew what happened to their father, and he was scared that someone would find out. Homer smiled again. For the first time in his life, he held the winning cards.
*****
When Homer was out of sight, Lawrence went back into the tavern to collect his winnings -- the two slaves, who were still sitting at the table. Their former owner was nowhere in sight.
"Come," Lawrence said. "I'm taking you home. What are your names?"
The woman put her arm around the boy who had a large birthmark on the left side of his face.
"I'm Rebecca, and this is Caleb."
Rebecca had been born in Haiti and brought to Boston when she was five. She had lived in the same household all her life, but when her master died, she and Caleb were put up for sale to cover the man's debts. Then the Virginia farmer bought them both and was taking them back to Virginia when he decided to stop at the tavern.
Rebecca was twenty. She and Caleb followed Lawrence to the ship. She never said a word, but Caleb asked Lawrence where they were going.
"Home," Lawrence said. He smiled at the small boy. "I live in a cabin in North Eastham."
Lawrence looked at Rebecca. She returned his gaze with a steely look. She had no interest in his life. She would work no matter where she laid her head. Her main concern was for Caleb.
When Caleb was born, his mother saw the birthmark and believed her son to be cursed. She refused to nurse him, and thirteen-year-old Rebecca took him from her and cared for him. When their owner saw the baby, he wanted to put Caleb to death, saying he was marked by the devil, but Rebecca interceded and saved the boy by sleeping with the master's friends.
