Work Text:
Crossed Lines
Stretching my arms over my head to help work out some of the kinks that have developed in my neck and shoulders, I finally head to home sweet home. The beginning of seasons means clearing off the farmland of any new debris while still having the regular chores of planting the new crops, harvesting any that are ready, and taking care of the animals to attend to as well. At least with autumn starting the temperature will start to get cooler making it easier to work outside.
Plodding up the front stairs and into our semi dark home, I notice that my husband, Elliott, hasn’t returned yet. He had left mid morning to check on his old seaside cabin and to enjoy the serenity of watching and listening to the tides come in and the lapping at the shore line. The days he walks to the beach have a revitalizing effect on him. He can come up with both incredibly strange and incredibly brilliant ideas during his sea time meditations for the books he writes. While writing mysteries, you have to make sure there will be no loose ends, all clues point to where they are suppose to, and all reveals are placed in the appropriate places so the reader can try to solve the case along with his detective. With so much to keep track of all at the same time, it can be like solving a jigsaw puzzle visually without moving any of the pieces.
Lately, Elliott has been going through long days and nights of sitting at his desk, barely allowing time for meal breaks, and going through both writing frenzies and writer's block. A break for him to just pause and relax has long been overdue.
“An author can be a slave to the whims of his muse, I guess!” I chuckle.
Entering the kitchen I head to the fridge to see if we have all the ingredients needed for several servings of Autumn’s Bounty for our supper as well as an extra bit for the Mayor. It never hurts to be on the good side of your town’s highly elected official! Especially when you have his favorite dish on hand!
Hearing the front door open and close behind me, I glance over and see Elliott strolling toward me with his head and eyes slightly lowered looking in deep thought.
Grabbing enough pumpkins and yams for the meal and plopping them onto the counter, I turn and call out to him, “Welcome back! So, how was the beach? Were you able to come up with any new ideas on how your dastardly villains were able to carry off that huge diamond heist while still being seen on the other side of town at the time of the theft?”
“Mmm,” he hummed noncommittally as he sat down at the kitchen table.
“Oh, that good, huh?” I joke with a sympathetic smile. Turning back around, I wash up and begin chopping up the vegetables.
The tap tapping sound of my knife cutting into the autumn squash filled the quiet kitchen. Behind me I heard Elliott start to drum his fingers and take a deep breath.
“I heard you gave a gift to Sebastian today. I don’t have any reason to be suspicious do I?” Elliott spoke evenly.
Well, shit, I thought as I froze. He knows.
My shoulders tiredly slump as I put down the knife and look down at my misshapen cut pumpkin pieces. Turning around and sitting down across from him, I take his hand in both of mine to stop his nervous drumming on the table as I try gather my thoughts and words.
“I don’t, do I?” He said, emotion starting to cloud his voice.
“I’m sorry, Elliott.”
He hisses and tries to pull his hand away, but I keep hold of it. “I’m sorry. I know I should have said something about it sooner, but I didn’t know how you would react. And since you were working so hard on your book, I didn’t want to bother you with… such things.”
Elliott stares angrily away from me with his hand tense and breathing measured. Finally, he turns toward me when he gains better control of his emotions and looks at me with half pleading eyes.
“Sebastian and I… we have been doing this for a couple of months now.”
Elliott closes his eyes and lowers his head in pain. Gritting his teeth he responds, “What happened? Why? Why would you...”
“Well, at the time I was needing just that extra bit money. But then soon it just became more of a way to blow off stress.”
Elliott’s head shot up and he stared at me flabbergasted.
“Then when Linus got involved..”
“Wha... What?” Elliott stuttered.
“Yeah, it seems we were making too much noise. You know, scaring off animals and keeping him up late, that sort of thing. So we started meeting closer to the railroad for more privacy. It was during the time when I was doing a lot of mining and kept getting home late.
“So that gift that some busybody told you about,” I groused, “was a box of old vegetables that both Sebastian and I were going to be using tonight. I can’t really sell them, so why not at least put them to good use?”
Blinking and then shaking images from his head, “... so you gifted Sebastian with vegetables. Old... vegetables.” Elliott leaned back into his chair with his arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with my answer.
“Well, yeah. Surely you have noticed how Sebastian has seemed more relaxed and a bit more cheerful lately? I really think what we have been doing together has helped.”
I startle in my chair when Elliott loudly shoves his chair back as he quickly stands up.
Not knowing what else to say to explain it and trying to ease down Elliott’s building anger I offer, “You were there when I first took up Sebastian’s offer. You even laughed about it! I mean, it was posted for all to see! I don’t see what you are angry about!”
“Posted? Now, what are you talking about?”
“Sebastian’s ad! The one he posted on the help wanted board! He wanted something he could throw as hard as he could at the mountain face. Remember? I suggested old or rotten vegetables or fruit since you would get that satisfying splat like gooshie sound.
“We ended up taking it a step further by incorporating something Emily had told me about. Each time we threw something we would yell out what we were stressed about and watch it explode against the mountain. We threw vegetables for people never taking us seriously, no one ever noticing our efforts, project deadlines coming up, having to decide between upgrading my farming tools or finally getting a horse and stable, and maybe being so busy and not having enough time to be with one’s spouse.” I said in a smaller voice.
His eyes flicked to me at my last statement and I could see him mentally going through all I have been saying and his own memories as I stared at him daring him to find any untruths in what I said. He first started with small chuckle until it grew to full laughter.
Trying to get his laughter under control, he said grinning, “If I ever doubt you again feel free to throw as many rotten vegetables as you like at me.”
“Ooh! Is that a promise?”
“That is even a pinkie promise,” Elliott said while linking our little fingers together, smiling.
Gently pulling me up toward him, he embraces me and places a soft kiss on my forehead.
“Now! If I remember correctly, we were to have your excellent Autumn’s Bounty for tonight’s meal!,” he said moving toward the counter. Taking up the extra knife and the yams, he starts chopping them up while I began to work again on the pumpkin pieces.
“To answer your question from earlier though, I do have an idea of how to have Costello be proven to have been at the heist and not at the casino across town, that I’d like to run by you to see what you think…”
Yay! The End!