He stabs his coffee cup in Kristal’s direction. “Wouldn’t you much rather come back for a well-planned out summer wedding than some rush job in front of my fireplace?”
“Actually there’s something else you need to do,” Kristal says. “Like right now.”
She tears out the piece of sketch paper she was drawing on.
“I’m not sure who this is, but his sketch suddenly appeared, not just with a date, but also with a time. Less than twenty minutes from now.”
With an apologetic look, she slides the drawing across the table to Rodge…whose face pales when he sees the sketch.
“Who is it?” Kristal asks into his shocked silence. “Can we call him? Or maybe he’s close enough to save?”
Rodge blinks at Siobhan. “I’m…I’m not sure what to do. Of course, I don’t believe in any of her elf hocus pocus, but…”
He lifts up the sketch of a thin balding man in a cardigan sweater, and the reaction is instantaneous.
Maeve, Declan, and Siobhan jump out of their seats. As do many of the guests at the eavesdropping table.
“Oh no, not him!” I hear the girl say behind me.
“Oh, hell,” Declan says, as Maeve crosses herself.
Siobhan grabs Rodge by the sleeve. “C’mon, Uncle Rodge. We’ll take my truck.”
“No, let’s take the shuttle!” Maeve says, standing up herself and tugging Rodge to his feet. “We’re all coming. You, too, Kristal.”
Proving themselves well-matched, Declan springs into immediate action, running out ahead to the shuttle while Siobhan fishes the shuttle keys off a hook in the lobby.
We’re all in the van before Kristal has another chance to ask, “Who is it? Who are we hopefully going to save?”
Thanks to all the chattering people in the dining room, I can save the worried people in the van the chore of answering her.
“The person in your sketch is Melvin…” I tell her. “The town clerk who used to be Rodge’s longtime friend.”
27
I Call Your Name
KRISTAL
“Don’t jump, Melvin! Don’t jump!”
Ironically Rodge jumps out of the shuttle’s front passenger seat yelling this before Siobhan has fully come to a stop.
He runs through the snow to address the man standing on the roof of a three-story house.
The man above us looks like Rodge’s exact opposite. He’s thinner and shorter and balding. And he’s wearing glasses that probably aren’t just for reading and a bright blue puffy Patagonia jacket. He doesn’t appear hardy like Rodge at all, and it’s hard to imagine them as longtime friends.
“Rodge? What are you doing here?” The man standing on the roof looks much more surprised to see us than we are him. But then he folds his arms defensively and says, “I thought you didn’t want to be friends with me anymore. Isn’t that what you said back in October?”
“I didn’t mean it, you damn fool,” Rodge calls back. “And what kind of candy ass whiner throws himself off a roof just because I said I didn’t want to spend my Thursdays with you anymore.”
“Uncle Rodge, this probably isn’t the time to badger him,” Siobhan points out. “Obviously, he’s really upset.”
“Copy that,” I agree with Siobhan before cupping my hands to give Melvin a speech about how magical life is, and how it was too precious to be ended in a moment of despair.
But before I can, the town clerk yells down to Rodge, “I’m not upset. I’m stuck, you cranky old coot. I was trying to take down the Christmas lights myself this year since the guy who usually does it for me decided he didn’t want to be my friend anymore. And it was going okay until the ladder fell.”
“The ladder…” Rodge repeats, his cantankerous voice faltering. At the same time, all of our eyes go to the ground right below the roof. Sure enough, there’s a ladder lying sideways in the snow.
“I was just about to try to climb down to the attic window ledge when you came running up and accused me of trying to kill myself,” Melvin explains.
“Dear Baby Jesus,” Maeve says, crossing herself again. “That’s how he would have died if us lot hadn’t gotten here in time.”
Rodge blinks several times. It looks to me like he’s battling tears.
But in the end, he resets to his usual grouchy self, yelling at Declan, “What’re doing just standing around? Use that Marine training of yours and get him down.”
Declan and Siobhan do just that, launching into action at the same time. They repost the ladder against the house, and hold it steady as Melvin carefully climbs down.
But Rodge doesn’t seem the slightest bit relieved as his friend comes down the ladder. In fact, the closer Melvin gets to the ground, the more furious the innkeeper appears.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he explodes as soon as the town clerk’s foot touches the ground.
Rodge stomps over to the thin, tweedy man and spins him around, one fist bunched like he plans to knock him out. “You’re not even Christian. The only reason I put up lights for you is because I knew that’s what Kathy would have wanted. And her Jewish twerp of a husband couldn’t handle the job.”
