8. Eli
ELI
The frigid response chills me to my core, and when I try to call Melody, it goes directly to voicemail. At least she didn't block me, I guess.
I'm about to call again when there's a knock at my front door—again. Grinding my teeth, I ignore it, willing Jill to go away. I can't believe she showed up like this, ruining my entire evening, but the damage is clearly done.
"Eli? I know you're home. You never leave your lights on if you're not, and your truck is in the driveway."
Startled, I jump up from the couch and stalk toward the front door, drawing back the side window curtain. To my surprise, it's not Jill at all—it's my sister standing on the stoop with my nephew.
This day is just getting more and more complicated.
Slowly, I open the door, my eyes instinctively scanning the street to make sure Jill isn't lurking nearby. Having just gotten rid of her, the last thing I need is for her to see my family and create another scene.
"What are you doing here, guys?"
My sister gives me a sheepish, apologetic look and nods toward the interior. “Can we come in? I have to get to the hospital for a shift, and I need someone to watch Matt for a few hours before his dad gets home.”
"I could stay home by myself, but Mom's way too overprotective," my nine-year-old nephew complains.
Relieved it’s not an emergency, I step aside and let them through. “Of course.”
Matthew scampers into the living room as my sister yells at him to take off his shoes.
She lingers in the doorway for a moment, eying me warily. “Are you okay? You look a little stressed out.”
I force a taut smile and nod. “I’m fine.”
“Funny thing—I thought I just saw Jill when we were pulling in here. You two aren’t back together, are you?” She stares at me suspiciously.
I return her look. “No… but I thought you liked Jill.”
“Jill is fine… just not for you,” she says with a scoff, pivoting.
“You could do with someone more… independent. Anyway, I have to go. The hospital is understaffed today. Thanks, Eli. His dad will be by around seven.” She pauses and eyes me again.
“I’m not ruining any plans, am I?” she asks worriedly.
“I wouldn’t drop him off like this if I had a choice. ”
I find myself pondering her words, letting them settle in my mind.
“No plans.” Melody’s cold brush-off is still fresh in my mind.
“You sure?” My sister doesn’t seem convinced.
"I'm sure." I push aside the self-pity. Melody deserves better than to wait around while I sort through my emotional wreckage. "Go to work. Matt and I will be fine."
A sympathetic smile touches my sister’s lips. “You know, there is a great woman out there for you, Eli, but it’s not Jill. No matter how lonely you might feel right now, don’t you dare sell yourself short. You deserve only the best—even if you are my pipsqueak baby brother.”
“Go to work before I get your son hopped up on energy drinks and buy him a puppy to bring home,” I joke.
Laughing, she heads back down the steps of my porch, and I stare after her forlornly. She has to say that because she’s family, but the truth is, I’m probably better off alone.
Closing the door, I join my nephew in the living room, where he struggles to set up the gaming console.
“Really?” I tease him. “You get to hang out with your favorite uncle, and you’re going to spend the time playing video games?”
“Who says you’re my favorite uncle?” Matthew jibes back, and I snicker, taking the remote controls from him to help.
“Just for that, I’m going to kick your butt in whatever game you choose,” I warn him. “And I’m eating all the rice crispy treats.”
His eyes brighten at the prospect of the marshmallow snacks.
“Okay… maybe you’re in the top three,” he agrees coyly.
“You only have three uncles,” I remind him, ambling into the kitchen to get him snacks.
I plate the snacks and make some hot cocoa.
“I like your tree, Uncle Eli,” Matthew calls. “But where are all your stockings?”
His innocent question hits me with a physical pang of discomfort.
“One stocking for one guy.” I return with a wooden tray of treats and cocoa.
“Why aren’t you married? Aren’t you old?” He’s not teasing, but curious.
I cringe at that last question.
“Thirty-one is not old,” I correct him. “And not everyone gets married.”
He reaches for a treat and stares at me unblinkingly as he takes a bite. Chewing thoughtfully, he swallows. “Don’t you want to have kids?”
His pointed questions make me swallow a grimace. I don’t want to shut him down, but he’s also asking me more than I can offer him.
“I want kids one day,” I answer. “But before I can have them, I have to find the right partner. Kids need parents who love one another as much as they love them.”
“Like my parents,” Matthew offers.
“Just like your parents.”
His eyes widen. “Wouldn’t it be cool if you had a kid, and they went to school with me?” he asks.
I try not to laugh at his innocent suggestion. I don’t want to burst his bubble on timing, so I nod. “That would be cool.”
“We would be in the Christmas pageants together!”
The sentiment is bittersweet, and a reminder that the annual event is tomorrow, even though Matthew doesn’t mention the upcoming show directly.
“Yeah!” I nod with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, but the conversation is making me sadder by the second. I really am going to be alone on Christmas this year.
“You really should find a wife, so that can happen.”
"I'll try to get on that." I ruffle his hair, fighting back a smile.
He turns his attention back toward the mounted television and picks up his controller.
“Well, you can hang out with me until you find someone,” he says, sneaking me a sidelong look. “Uncle Eli?”
“Hm?”
“You are my favorite uncle,” he confides. “And I bet your kid would be my favorite cousin, too.”
The silly sentiment puts a lump in my throat. I reach over and pull him into a quick side hug.
“Enough chit-chat,” I order him. “Let me show you the greatest Space Ranger champion of all time!”
“In your dreams,” he giggles.
I try to text Melody again on Saturday morning. I keep the message light and respectful.
Me: I was hoping we could talk today. I hope you’re having a good morning.
I’m tempted to call her, but if her phone is on, she’ll see the message and respond. The ball is in her court now, and I can’t pressure her. Several times, I pick up the phone to send her a text about joining me at the pageant tonight, but I’m afraid she’ll ignore me.
To keep my mind off my darkening mood, I head out to my wood shop and work on a new piece. Keeping my hands occupied always serves as a good distraction when things get complicated, but I can’t stop thinking about Melody as I whittle away.
I keep working until my hands go numb from the cold of the shed, and I realize I’ve been outside for hours, mid-afternoon sunlight filtering through the dirt windows. I have to get ready for the pageant.
Glancing down, I examine my whittled house, realizing it resembles the Lane cabin. The recognition only depresses me further.
My sister texts me as I reenter the house.
Beth: You’re still coming tonight?
Ambling into the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee, I respond.
Me: Yep.
Beth: We’ll try to save you a seat if you can be there early. Mom and Dad are coming, too, with Matt’s other grandparents.
I frown, the thought of sitting amongst their entire family unappealing.
Me: No worries. I’ll find a seat on my own.
Beth: But you’re definitely coming, right?
Me: I’ll be there.
To be honest, I don’t want to go. If it weren’t for Matthew, I would bail and stay home to eat cold pizza and stare blankly at the hockey game, like I’ve grown accustomed to doing on a Saturday night.
But then, there’s always the off chance that Jill might show up on my doorstep again, looking to get back together like she did yesterday.
As long as she’s hanging around, I’ll never be able to move on.
But I don’t know how to make her stop. I’ve been nice, rude, avoidant, and even borderline angry with my ex-girlfriend.
Jill is determined to squeeze every drop out of a toxic relationship.
Even yesterday, she looked shocked when I shut the door on her face without letting her get a word out, like this was some bizarre revelation.
The coffee warms me up before I head upstairs to shower and change, eagerly looking at my phone, hoping that Melody has changed her mind about contacting me. But there’s radio silence on her end.
Polar opposites, Melody and Jill. In every way. But now my guardedness has pushed Melody too far away, and I won’t get another chance.
Swirls of snow dance from the darkening sky as I climb into my truck and make my way down Birch Street, in the direction of Holly Ridge Park.
In the evening twilight, I make out a hint of the light-show animals beyond the wrought-iron gates before I turn toward the school and park in the already overflowing lot.
Several neighbors and clients grin and wave at me in greeting as we flock toward the main entrance of the school, but my sister isn’t wrong—the place is jammed. I’m glad I didn’t ask her to hold a seat for me.
I don’t bother looking for my family and find a place on the wall by the stage. There are too many older people and families who can use the free chairs. I’m fine standing.
Looking around, I take in the happy couples, laughing and chattering as they pore over the evening program.
Some of them are long-time residents, while others are Holly Ridge implants, just like Melody.
I’ve seen them meet or reconnect over the years, fall in love, and some of them have started families of their own.
The mayor smiles warmly with his wife and kids from near the front, holding her hand.
The local yoga instructor helps someone’s child with their shoelace as her lawyer husband watches her appreciatively.
The owners of the Christmas tree farm fuss with some of the decorations that have gotten loose, and a famous country singer stands at the far side of the room, flocked by little girls demanding her autograph as her partner signs his own name to their latest duo album.
It’s such an eclectic mix: the police officer and schoolteacher, the party planner and town rebel.
The one thing they all have in common is that they’re all here together, celebrating Holly Ridge and their sense of family.
My gaze darts around the auditorium, and I find my family as the principal takes the stage.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” Sylvie Collins calls. “Thank you all so much for joining us tonight for our annual Christmas pageant!”
There’s a scattering of light applause, and I turn my attention back toward the stage.
Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of white catches my attention, and I notice Edna Monroe angling toward me down the aisle.
As always, she holds a tiny dog in her arms, different from the last one I saw.
I still can’t believe how many animals filter through the shelter in such a small town.
“There’s a seat right there,” I whisper as Mrs. Collins continues her introductions from the platform.
Edna shakes her ivory crown as the nosy dog sniffs the air around us. I pet his head, absently turning back toward the show.
“Where’s Melody?” Edna asks, not bothering to keep her voice down.
Several of the audience members give her a reproving look, but she ignores them.
“Melody?” I repeat dumbly, arching an eyebrow.
Edna rolls her eyes. “Are you going to pretend you don’t know who she is?”
“Shh!” one of the proud mothers hisses as the music teacher strikes a chord on the piano to cue the kindergarten class onto the stage.
“I know who she is, but I don’t know why you’re asking me about her,” I mumble, grateful for the dimness of the theater.
“You’re dating her.”
"What?" My head snaps toward her, eyes widening. "Who told you that?"
Her piercing blue gaze fixes on me with startling intensity. “I might be old, Eli, but I’m not blind. I’ve seen you two out and about. I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”
Despite the low light, I’m sure Edna can read my expression.
“We’re not dating,” I look down at my feet. “We’re just friends.”
And I’m not sure if that’s true anymore, either.
"I hope it's not because you're sitting around pining for your ex," Edna remarks dryly, her tone as sharp as her gaze.
I scoff aloud. “No. Definitely not.”
Edna nudges me in the ribs.
“Good, because isn’t that Jill over there?” She points a partially crooked finger toward the middle of the auditorium, where my ex sits with a local firefighter.
To my utter shock, she’s cozied up to him, her arm looped through his, and her head dropped against his shoulder. A fusion of interest and elation shoots through me, and before I know what I’m doing, I push off the wall toward her for a better look.
Jill sees me coming and unlaces her arm from her new beau’s, blood draining out of her face.
“Eli!” she gasps, like I’ve caught her in the middle of something. “Now, don’t freak out?—”
“Freak out?” I cut her off, blinking. “Why would I freak out?”
“SHHH!” the audience around us warns us.
Jill makes her way out of the aisle and pulls me toward the exit as I try to wrap my mind around what’s happening. I follow her without argument, my head spinning at this latest revelation.
"That's why I came over yesterday!" she exclaims once we're outside the auditorium, away from the performance. I squint slightly as my eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the school hallway.
I continue to stare at her uncomprehendingly, and she groans. “I came to tell you I’ve moved on!”
Dubiously, I laugh. “You could have just texted me! Or, like, not bothered to tell me at all!”
“You blocked my number,” she reminds me.
“And just not telling me never occurred to you?”
“I didn’t want you to be hurt when you saw me out with another man,” she moans dramatically. “You know, making a scene like you just did.”
Suddenly, I realize she’s completely misconstrued my behavior, and my jaw slacks more. A small laugh escapes my lips, followed by another one, until suddenly, I’m doubled over laughing as Jill glares at me.
“What’s so funny?” she barks. “Are you having a breakdown?”
Unable to stop myself, I envelop Jill in a giant, sweeping hug that lifts her off the ground and makes her shriek. “Eli!”
Setting her down, I wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes and grin at her. “I’m happy for you, Jill.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “Really?”
“Really. You have no idea how glad I am that you found someone else.”
Her brow furrows into a wary vee. “Then why are you laughing like a maniac?”
“Because,” I sigh, my heart flooding with a renewed sense of hope. “You just set me free. Thank you.”
I spin to rush out the front doors as Jill calls out to me, but I don’t look back or stop. I know exactly what I need to do now.