Page 38 of The Forever Christmas Tree

“Doesn’t matter how I feel. I’m not the one with deep pockets,” K-4 said. “I’m due for renewal this summer, though.”

Everyone looked at JAM and Geek.

JAM put his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me. I’m no millionaire. Besides, I’m not ready to quit the teams. I have another year to go on my current contract. Maybe later. Just not yet.”

Which left Geek.

“I’m thinking about it,” Geek said. “I re-up in May . . . or not. I’ve been in about fourteen years now. That’s a long time in special forces.”

“Those of us who grew up on the Outer Banks have been hearing about shipwrecks and salvors all our lives. The good and the bad,” Aunt Mildred interjected. “There must be a dozen companies with licenses for wrecks off our coast right now.”

“And occasionally one of them hits the jackpot. Like that recent ‘Pulaski’ discovery,” Elmer pointed out. “That’s what makes all the others keep trying.”

“I went to that Graveyard of the Atlantic museum today,” Diane told them. “You guys should definitely visit if you’re seriously considering this venture. K-4, you mentioned the huge number of shipwrecks still sitting on the ocean bottoms around the world. Well, get this: there are three thousand shipwrecks still uncovered off this coastline alone. Makes even the most cautious person get the fever.”

“Why is this particular company wanting to sell out? Jinx, did you say? Isn’t that an ominous name?” Harry asked.

“Their headquarters on Barnegat Bay is about to be demolished as part of a federal wharf restoration project,” Geek told them, “which won’t be finished for five years. In the meantime, they need to find another site, temporary or permanent. They’ve decided to just sell.”

“Jake and Ronnie, the owners, are thinking about getting involved in some small private casino in the Poconos,” JAM added.

Harry frowned. “If there’s no building to sell, what would potential investors get for their money?” Harry had been a financial consultant at one time; so, his viewpoint was valuable.

“Goodwill. The company name, its reputation, past and existing accounts,” Geek explained.

“Plus a big-ass salvage boat, don’t forget that,” K-4 said with a laugh. “I mean, we’re talking a huge boat that sleeps eight and has all the latest technology for exploring and recovery.”

“I think the most interesting thing, and this is rather ironic with us being here on the Outer Banks, is that they have a salvage permit with the state of North Carolina, obtained before this whole issue of wharf redevelopment came up in Jersey. It’s for a site five miles out in the Atlantic where a trio of Portuguese ships supposedly went down in 1862. Called the Three Saints . . . the St. Martha, the St. Cecilia, and the St. Sonia. Cool, huh?”

“So, you could conceivably establish a new headquarters for Jinx anywhere, even here on the Outer Banks,” Wendy mused.

“I suppose so,” Geek said. “But like I mentioned, shipwreck salvaging is only one of their services. And who knows where the next project would be located?”

“Are you going to do it?” Diane asked, her question addressed to Geek, since he was the only one with the cash to do it, unless he took in other investors.

“I don’t know. A lot to think about.” Geek took a sip of wine and leaned back in his chair. “Like JAM, I’m not sure I’m ready to give up the teams. Still, I am thinking about it. I brought a pile of paperwork with me to sift through.”

“You should talk to my daughter, Bonita, when she comes for the Christmas Day Open House,” Raul said then. “Bonita is some kind of oceanographer—or a marine archaeologist, I am not sure which—in Ocracoke. She has worked with some of the Outer Banks shipwreck salvaging companies.”

“That would be great,” Geek said.

Wendy was staring at her aunt. That was all very interesting about Raul’s daughter, but what was that about an open house?

Her aunt understood Wendy’s unspoken question and said, “I decided to resume the annual Christmas Day Open House this year, like your mother and father used to hold. I sent the invitations out weeks ago, before you decided to come home. I hope you don’t mind.”

Did she mind? Not really. It was just a surprise. They’d stopped the ritual party a year before her mother died, when she’d gotten too sick to organize even family meals, let alone a community event. And that’s what the Patterson open houses were, open to everyone in town. From noon to four p.m., giving families a chance to open gifts that morning and then go to church services, with plenty of time afterward to hold their own feasts at home later that day or early in the evening.

Christmas Day might seem like an odd time to hold a party, but originally, when her mother and father had started the tradition, it was because they’d wanted people with no families around to have a place to go and celebrate. Shades of Aunt Mildred? Wendy mused. But what had happened was that everyone came, even if only for a half hour. It had become a means for all the townsfolk to enjoy the day together.

“Are you sure you’re up for that? I mean, it’s a lot of work. As many as fifty or sixty people could show up, as I recall.”

“We’ll all help,” Elmer said, and the other seniors nodded and offered enthusiastic encouragement to Aunt Mil.

“Hey, I can be the bartender,” K-4 said.

“I make a mean Santa’s Wild-Ass Elf cocktail,” JAM said, waggling his eyebrows. “Very festive.”

“Did you know that the word cocktail was first used in the early 1800s, referring to any drink with sugar, water, and bitters?” This from Gloria, ever the librarian. “It was called a ‘bittered sling,’ which came from the German word schlinger, which means to swallow quickly.”