The Mistake by R. S. Lively

Author:R. S. Lively [Lively, R. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-24T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Preston

By the time it’s time for me to go home for Christmas, I feel like it's been forever since I saw Victoria. I'm happy to see the ferry is already waiting at the dock when I pull up to the edge of the mainland. I don't want to have to wait any longer to be near her. I pull my car onto the deck and wait until we have broken free to climb out and walk to the railing. A few yards away, I see Carson gliding by. The decorations on his boat have gotten more extreme over the last two weeks, and I'm glad it's almost Christmas. I don't think the modest vessel could handle many more lights or enormous ornaments. Apparently, the company finally delivered the replacement bulbs for his family's traditional heirloom strand of lights. A scorch mark across the front of the boat is the only explanation of why they aren't glowing around the steering wheel.

“Merry Christmas, Carson,” I call out.

He waves enthusiastically over his head, the jingle bells attached to his wrists jangling happily.

“Merry Christmas, Preston,” he calls back. “You home for a while?”

“A little while,” I answer.

“Good to hear,” he says. “Are you coming to the gala tonight?”

I look at him in surprise.

“You're coming on land?” I ask.

I haven't seen Carson on land in several years. He's never lived full-time on land in my lifetime, but when I was younger, he used to make occasional visits into the village to collect supplies. Now with the advent of online shopping and his improving ability to catch deliveries in nets, he doesn't have that need anymore. He docks when necessary to maintain the boat, but he tends to stay aboard while others help him from the other side. I don't really know Carson's story. I don't think anybody in Magnolia Falls does. He's just one of those fixtures of the community you don't really understand but can't imagine not being around. There's so many questions surrounding him, yet I know the answers to none of them. Maybe that mystery is what gives him his charm as he floats happily along, occasionally showing up in the back of a tourist's souvenir picture or postcard.

“Of course not,” Carson says. “But they're setting the gingerbread wonderland up right along the dock. It's my job to occasionally toss little pieces of candy over the backdrops so it's like magic.”

The sentiment is there, but all I can envision is small children running from the decorated area as they're pelted with gumdrops from some unseen source.

“I'm sure you'll enjoy that,” I state politely.

Hopefully not the pelting of the children part.

“I will,” he says. “Come down and say hi if you have a chance.”

“Absolutely,” I agree.

"Hey, you're going to be seeing Victoria tonight, aren't you?"

The ferry is making good progress across the water and I hope I'll be seeing her very soon.

“Yes. I plan on bringing her to the gala tonight.”

“Good,” he says with a touch of an edge in his voice.

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