Chapter 25 - The First Snow on the Eastern Shore
The following year, on a crisp morning in late November, the move to our new estate on the eastern shore of the Chesapeake Bay was finally complete.
Gone were the towering iron security gates of the Cross estate in New York and the sprawling corporate monolith of the Moretti tower in Baltimore. In their place stood a magnificent, sprawling stone and timber home nestled amidst towering pines and weeping willows, with a private wooden dock stretching out into the glass-calm waters of a secluded cove.
I stood on the expansive back porch, holding a steaming mug of black coffee, watching the morning mist rise off the silent surface of the bay. The air was crisp, clean, and carrying the sharp, invigorating scent of salt water and pine needles.
The heavy sliding glass door opened behind me, and Fay stepped out onto the wooden planks. She wore an oversized cream-colored cashmere sweater and dark wool trousers, her hair falling in soft, natural waves around her shoulders. She walked up beside me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head against my shoulder, letting out a long, contented sigh.
“It’s so quiet here,” she whispered, her voice carrying a profound, beautiful sense of release. “Sometimes I wake up and I still expect to hear the phone ringing with emergency manifests or federal warnings.”
I wrapped my free arm around her, pulling her close against my side, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.
“There are no emergencies here, Fay,” I murmured softly. “Only the tide coming in and going out.”
She turned slightly, looking up into my eyes with a bright, radiant smile that could rival the morning sun breaking across the water. “And to think, it all started because I walked up to table twelve with a notepad and a terrified heart.”
“You weren't terrified,” I corrected, smiling down at her. “You were just waiting for the right moment to take over my entire world.”
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Fay laughed—a rich, musical sound that carried across the quiet cove, scattering a flock of seagulls resting on the distant docks.
“And I haven't looked back since,” she whispered.
