Chapter 24: The Door Stays Open

On the next Christmas Eve I basted the ham in the gatehouse kitchen with my phone face down on the shelf.

It was the same ham recipe, and a different oven, and the window over the sink looked out on the lake.

Snow had been coming down since noon, in thick flat flakes.

Tobias stood behind me with a dish towel over his shoulder, stealing crackling off the corner.

"That's for the table," I said.

"I'm testing it."

"Test it with your hand out of the pan."

He kissed the back of my neck and took another piece.

The ring on my left hand was a plain silver band.

The garnet sat on my right, where it had been all year.

We had married in June, on the pier, with forty people on folding chairs and Joy as the only bridesmaid.

She had read a poem she wrote herself, and it had rhymed "Tobias" with "pious," and nobody had laughed until she did.

The table was set for eight.

I had set it myself, with mismatched plates and a candle in a jar at every place.

My grandmother's lawyer was the first to arrive, in the same cardigan, with a bottle of cider and a box of chocolates.

"Ms. Talcott," he said at the door. "Mr. Thayer. I have been a lawyer for fifty years this month."

"Congratulations," Tobias said.

"It was a very good fifty. The last year has been the best of it."

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