My Journal

By

Harriman Nelson

22

The clock was ticking down to the big event today and I was wondering if Lee was having any luck regarding my accuser. In any case, Edith had finally arrived, and was helping me to adjust my collar in the boat's salon.

“There, all done,” Edie said and looked at me proudly. “Just think, today you’ll be an old married man.”

“Married, yes, old, well, that’s a matter of opinion.”

We both laughed as Jiggs turned on the TV.

“We’re at the Nelson-Crane Institute of Marine Research,” a reporter was saying by the news trucks, “where, despite the attempted rape charges leveled at the retired admiral, the wedding is still on. It remains to be seen how many invitees, mostly his staff, will show due to the scandal.

“The Secretary of the Navy has been rather vocal that Captain Nelson-Crane, who is to officiate at the wedding, has refused to comply with his order that the traditional naval honor guard with drawn swords, no less, be scrapped and hence, the U.S. Naval Reserve officer is ‘on report’ for insubordination. As well as any of the honor guard who participate. 

“The ceremony is scheduled for noon and Nelson’s court hearing at four. In other Nelson family news, police have determined that the captain’s recent auto accident was  an attempt on his life.  We’ll bring you more as the investigation continues.”

Just then Lee boarded, looking very haggard, disgusted.

“Well?” Jiggs asked.

“Nothing definite yet,” Lee sighed. “And the girl’s not very cooperative. Hi Edith, you look lovely.”

“You look terrible!” she said as she reached toward his stitches.

“Yeah, sorry. I can’t get my mother to stop fussing over me. Thank God, she’s with Emily right now, making sure everything’s okay with the bride’s party. Angie and all the bridesmaids are here. Most of the guests have arrived and Chip reports that the men selected for the honor guard are polishing their swords.”

“So much for the Sec Nav’s threats,” Jiggs said. “This is one time I’m damn proud of you for busting orders in order to stand up for Harriman.”

“Well, I’d better get cleaned up and changed,” Lee said and headed to his stateroom.

“Harriman,” Jiggs grabbed my arm, “there’s not much time so I’d better get to the point if Edith will give us a little space?”

“Oh dear, man talk,” she teased. “I’ll go on over to the outcrop then, shall I? See you soon, Harry,” she added, giving me a peck on the check and headed topside.

“Well?” I asked, sitting down in a rather disreputable chair in dire need of duct tape. “Are you going to tell me about the birds and the bees?”

“Heavens, no…but,” he pulled out a small bottle of pills from his pocket. “Might come in handy at times…though I doubt you’ll need them.”

I had to laugh at the male enhancement pills.

A short time later, Lee emerged, resplendent in his dress whites, despite his new batch of stitches and bruises.

"Everyone ready?" he asked.

“Well, we are. But you’re not, Mister,” Jiggs said.

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you forgetting some of your decorations? You certainly have more than those.”

It was then that I noticed that indeed, Lee had forgotten a few. Some very important ones.

“He’s right, son.”

“We’ve been through this, Harry.”

“I don’t care if you have presidential permission to avoid wearing them. This is my big day, and I want you too. Include the foreign ones."

“I’ll look like an over decorated Christmas tree!”

“So you've said before. Too bad.”

“I um, don’t seem remember where I put them…”

“Liar,” I said and used my cell phone to call security. “Nelson here. Get someone to board Seaview and go to the captain’s cabin. He’s forgotten where he’s put some of his decorations. The wedding can’t proceed without them."

“All right, all right,” Lee said and took the phone out of my hand. “They’re in the desk's bottom right drawer,” he added, closing the call. “Blackmailer.”

“Worked, didn’t it?” I said cheerfully then clutched my stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just butterflies.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, yes. I’m sure. In fact, I'm better already.”

“Better have some of the pink stuff anyway,” Jiggs asked.

“Maybe something stronger is a better idea,” Lee said and called security to send something a bit stronger from Med Bay along with his ribbons.

“While we’re waiting, perhaps you should practice your lines.”

“Don’t worry,” Lee said, popping open a 7-Up, “City Hall said it’s not so much following a script, in fact, just about any words will do, as long as the bride and groom say ‘I do’ in front of witnesses and the certificate is signed by some of them, along with my ‘John Hancock’.”

“Anybody home?” Ron called down, and soon appeared, in a powder blue and white tux. “Whoa, you three look like a recruiting poster.”

“Hang on, son,” I said and retreated to the stateroom to retrieve the gem box holding the wedding ring and returned, handing it to him. “I believe I need to put this in your custody.”

He opened the box, and examined the ring, turning it this way and that.

“Nice touch those intertwined hearts and initials on the inside.”

“She has an identical one for me.”

Just then Riley, in his seaman’s whites, came aboard and handed over the chalky medicine, and the box of Lee’s decorations to his captain.

“Good grief,” Ron said as Lee began to pin some of them on. “You’ll outshine the bride with all of those.”

“He’s wearing them for me,” I said, “and he’s certainly earned them. I won't go into details, but we should be saluting him, instead of the other way around.”

“Yeah, I know about his medals of honor and freedom, and some of the foreign stuff. But he's still going to outshine the bride.”

“Actually, sir,” Riley said, “you look pretty dapper yourself.”

“Thanks, sailor, er…Riley, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir. By the way, your mother’s already at the outcrop. All the guests are.”

“Better take a swig of that stuff, Harriman,” Jiggs ordered.

I did as Lee took a few gulps of his 7-Up.

“Admiral Starke and I,” Lee said, “will head directly to the outcrop. Ron, you’ll wait with Harry in Wing A of the Observatory Bldg. until Mr. Ames gives you the go ahead to walk to the altar. Riley, you can come along with Admiral Starke and me.” Then he called security for a couple of golf carts (scrubbed and decorated with white bows) to pick us up.

The observatory’s divided wings were crowded with the overflow of institute guests, the outcrop seating having been reserved by lottery. I was a bit surprised to be so warmly welcomed by the overflow guests there, under the shameful circumstances of my arrest.

A small photo studio had been set up in wing A and the monitor was set to the outcrop’s altar, actually a gaily decorated gazebo, which had a podium in the center and elaborate bird cages on both sides filled with white doves. (At first I couldn’t tell if they were real birds or not but they were.)

“It’s time,” Ames said, approaching me. “It’s a bit noisy, we’re having  a problem getting the news helicopters to keep their distance. But the Coast Guard’s running interference for us.”

Taking a deep breath, Ron slapped me on the back and we headed out and down the aisle.

Lee was already at the podium. Every seat was taken. I could see Edith, happily talking to Mrs. Crane and Jiggs. Since my sister was my only family, there wasn’t any ‘groom’/’bride’ side of the aisle.  Chip was in the front row, with the other members of the ‘honor guard’, their ceremonial swords glittering in the sunshine. 

I was so proud of everyone, joining me for this great event in my life, despite the very real probability that I might be going to jail before I could share my new life with my bride.

As Ron and I took our places, Riley began to play his guitar with a surfer style ‘Ode to Joy’ morphing into Handel’s ‘Wedding March’ as Angie and the bridesmaids, in sophisticated pastel street length dresses began their trek down the aisle followed by Emily, on Chief Sharkey's resplendent  arm. She was a vision of loveliness in her street length white dress with a lace jacket and a small pill box style hat accessorized with flowers and a short veil.

Words fail me even now. But it wasn’t her wedding attire that took my breath away. It was the sweet, unconditional smile she gave me. As if I was the only person in the world.

To me gone were the helicopters that the Coast Guard had managed to move back over the shoreline, gone were the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of the guests. It was just us.

Sharkey placed her hand in mine, and stepped back to take the seat next to Mrs. Crane.

It was time.

Then Lee began the words that were going to change our lives forever….

“Emily Alice,” he said looking at her fondly, “will you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love him? Comfort him? Honor and keep him? In sickness and in health? And, forsaking all others, be faithful to him for as long as you both shall live?”

She looked at me and firmly said, “I do.”

My heart nearly melted right then and there.

“Harriman Horatio,” Lee said, “will you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you love her? Comfort her? Honor and keep her? In sickness and in health? And, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

I do, I do, I do, I do, I do! I felt like singing the words and jumping up and down in joy.

“The ring please,” Lee said to Ron.

After Ron handed the wedding ring to me and Lee told me to place it on Emily’s finger.

It was just a tad too tight and for a moment I had visions of having to use a canned soda’s pop pull as a substitute. But the ring finally did slide on.

“Harriman, repeat after me. ‘With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Oh, God, I’d said it. I’d said it. At last!  But I was surprised Lee had opted for the ancient ‘thee’ instead of omitting it like a lot of modern weddings do.

“The ring, please,” Lee said to Angie who handed it to Emily.

“Emily,” Lee said, “place the ring on Harriman’s finger.”

She looked into my eyes as she did so.

“Emily, repeat after me. ‘With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Lee took both our hands and placed them together under his.

“For as much as Harriman and Emily have exchanged vows, each to the other, and exchanged rings, witnessed by this company, then, by the authority  vested in me by the state of California, I pronounce that they be husband and wife together…you may kiss the bride,” he added  with a brilliant smile.

I hardly noticed the release of the doves, the cheering and clapping. I was so mesmerized by our first kiss as man and wife.

A slight cough by Lee brought us back to the present

“Attention!” Chip hollered and the honor guard formed on both sides of the aisle.

“Raise swords!”

And so my bride and I walked under the arch, O’Brien having the honor to whack her on the backside to the cheers of ‘Go Navy!’

The ‘father’ and ‘mother’ of the bride followed (without an arch of swords), Ron and Angie next, then the bridesmaids. After that it was just everyone who weren't hastening to the cafeteria.

Emily and I signed the certificate first, Ron and Angie after, then Sharkey and Mrs. Crane, and of course, Lee, who also embossed the document with the official California seal.

“Drew?” he called over to a crowd watching the news coverage of the wedding on the monitor, “make three copies and fax one to City Hall.”

“Right away,” he said with a grin.

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson,” Lee said, taking us aside which wasn’t easy in the crowded room. “Can I have a moment of your time?”

“What is it, son?” Emily asked. Oh I was so pleased she called him that.

“I know you haven’t actually made plans for a honeymoon. Especially now, but…I’ve arranged a place you might enjoy, in complete privacy anytime you like. An island. Has its own cabin, a generator and a very nice little cove out of sight of any pesky passing by boats…the Catalina Islands nature preserve. Just let me know when you’d care to go, and I’ll sail you over…all signed, sealed and delivered, compliments of the California Parks and Recreation Dept.”

“Lee…I don’t know what to say,” I replied.

“No need to say anything. Well, I think Pat’s getting anxious to take some pictures…”

And pictures he took. Bride, Groom, Bride and Groom, Bride and Groom with Maid of Honor and Best Man, Bride and Groom with the full wedding party, Bride and Groom with ‘father’ and ‘mother’ of the bride, and sister of the Groom, and  of course the full assemblage including the honor guard, and Lee.

After about an hour, (actually more like a half hour), we were interrupted by a slight commotion by the monitor.  Our camera’s had bene replaced with the TV News…

“….We’re here at the Santa Barbara Police Dept. where it has been disclosed that Miss Candy Cane, the exotic dancer who accused Admiral Nelson of attempted rape has recanted, and claims she was approached by a woman offering just too much money to turn down for the practical joke. It remains to be seen if the admiral will press charges for false accusation and battery. The arrest of the as of yet unidentified woman can only be a short time away as police forensics is being assisted by the Naval Crimes Investigative Service and Office of Naval Intelligence. So as charges have been dropped against the admiral, it appears that the newlyweds will be able to have a honeymoon after all…”

The cheers were deafening as Chip turned the monitor off. Emily gave me a hug and told Lee we'd be ready to depart about 5 p.m.

I wasn't surprised to see security, accompanied by two officers enter the building, I supposed to inform me 'officially' of my reprieve. But they weren’t looking at me. Rather they were approaching Ron and Jessica who had moved away from Emily and me and were in a deep conversation with each other.

“Ms. Jessica Hawthorne? Ronald Nelson? You’re under arrest.”

The silence was deafening.

“Ms. Hawthorne,” one of the officers said, “you’re under arrest on suspicion of reckless endangerment along with Dr. Winesap,  fraud, battery, and false arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used in a court of law…Forensics has identified you as the mystery woman that paid off the dancer to bludgeon and accuse the admiral of attempted rape.”

“And you, Mr. Nelson,” the other cop said as he too was cuffed, “are under arrest for reckless endangerment along with Dr. Winesap, and attempted murder.”

“Wait a minute,” Lee said, approaching. “We’ve had our differences, but…”

“Dr. Winesap's admitted to the medical malpractice, use of spiked water and abuse of hypnotic suggestions in collusion with them. We also found a control device in Mr. Nelson's hotel room, tuned to override your Lamborghini’s artificial intelligence.”

“Ron?” Lee asked, quietly. “Is this true?”

“It was all her idea!”

“You lying ungrateful SOB!” Jessica spat toward him, “okay, Crane, I got Winesap to try to  get Nelson to replace you in his stupid old heart. It was my idea to stop the marriage because of that damn community property law for when Nelson kicks the bucket. But murdering you? Nelson’s number one son?  That was all Ron’s idea. He wanted to get rid of you from the start. As soon as we discovered Ron’s blood line. You were in the way. An obstacle that had to be removed. He’s Nelson’s true son. Not you! He deserves the Nelson name, any  inheritance! He’s the tie that binds!”

“No,” I said, “the tie that binds isn’t blood. It’s the heart, and apparently neither of you have one….how could I have been so blind regarding the both of you.”

“By the way, Admiral,” one of the officers said, pulling out a sealed plastic evidence baggie, “we also found this in Mr. Nelson’s room…is it what we think it is?”

“Yes,” I said sadly, “add theft of the Nelson family ring to the charges.”

“It should be mine!” Ron yelled lunging toward me, and just as quickly pulled back by the officer and security. “Mine! It’s supposed to be passed down from father to son. A real son! A blood son!”

“Providence has dictated that I can’t change that relationship,” I said, “but in all that matters, you’re no son of mine. And you know what? It’s a shame. You had potential, Ron. I even came to like you. And I thought you liked me. But apparently, everything about you, except for your blood, was a lie. A bold faced fraud. Officers, get them out of my sight.”

“I demand to make a phone call,” Ron said. “It’s my constitutional right.”

“When we get to the station,” one of the officers said.

“Want to talk about it?” Lee asked me gently.

“No…I won’t spoil today by reflecting on any of this now….Emily? I believe we have a reception to attend.”

Cookie and Sharkey had outdone themselves and for a while the unexpected events that had just happened were placed on the back burners of our emotions.

The luncheon buffet was a mixture of haute cuisine and hearty home cooking. The wedding cake itself,surrounded by several sheet cakes in order to feed the masses, was a simple three tier 'basket weave' design. I guess neither Cookie or Sharkey had known how to make frosting flowers.

Because of the crowd, and extra tables and chairs even having to be set up outside in the parking lot, there was no dancing. I regretted that but promised myself that we’d do a lot of dancing in that ranger cabin on the island Lee promised us.

By four o’ clock, the food was gone, only one bottle of champagne was left and Angie was suggesting that it might be a good time for the bride’s traditional bouquet toss. Besides, Emily needed to pack a few things for our trip to the nature reserve. 

There were squeals of delight as Lola caught the bridal bouquet and Emily and I headed to the bungalow for a little private smooching. Or rather, a few minutes of stretching our feet out, being rather exhausted.

The TV still had us on the news, the helicopter camera showing the visual of the ceremony for its vantage point. The report also said that both Jessica and Ronald had plead guilty as charged in exchange for reduced sentences.

By the time Emily and I called for a golf cart to take us to Lee’s boat, we saw several of the bridal party, staff, our honor guard, Edith, and Mrs. Crane, waiting to wave us goodbye as Lee piped us aboard.

Suddenly there was a god awful noise as the boat exploded and everything went dark.

I was having a wonderful dream, reliving the ceremony, when a familiar voice penetrated my brain.

“You sure he’s gonna’ be okay?” Sharkey asked. “Mrs. Nelson’s still antsy about him.”

For a moment I wondered if I was five years old and my mother was going to warn me about when my father came home. Then I remembered there was another Mrs. Nelson. I was married.

“Emmie?” I think I muttered. What had happened?“Emmie?” I tried again.

“Easy, there, Admiral Nelson,” the uniformed nurse said soothingly as she came into focus as my eyes opened. “You’re in the Santa Barbara Hospital…”

“Hospital? What happ….Emily..."I began only to find my arm in a sling and a leg in a cast.

“She’s fine…most everyone is fine.”

“Most everyone?”
But the nurse was already on her way out telling me she'd get the doctor, leaving me to my confusion.

I saw the call deice had a TV button, and pressed it, flipping the channels from children’s programming, morning talk shows, and stopping on the local 24 hour news…

“We’re here at the Nelson-Crane Institute of Marine Research again, where yesterday afternoon Captain Nelson-Crane’s private sailboat exploded due to a previously placed bomb, set and detonated remotely by  his brother, Mr. Ronald Nelson, formerly Hawthorne. Mr. Nelson and his mother had been arrested earlier, she for her part in the recent frame up of Admiral Nelson for attempted rape, and he for the attempted murder of the captain. Now, the blood son of Admiral Nelson also faces twenty one additional attempted murder charges as several institute employees, and guests of the Nelson wedding were hurt, though none have been reported with any life threatening injuries. Mostly bruises, some cuts and broken bones, and a few concussions. However, Admiral Nelson's concussion knocked him out and he has not reawakened yet. He also has a broken leg,  his bride, who has been released from the hospital suffered a broken arm and a black eye.  The most serious injury incurred was to the captain, released this morning, who suffered the loss of an eye, broken forearm, broken calf, heavy bruising, four cracked ribs, and lacerations to his forehead already riddled with stitches, to which more have been added. He had also been concussed and knocked out, which was a blessing as the pain of his injuries would have been excruciating.

“We had the good fortune to interview the captain shortly after he returned from the hospital this morning….”

 I was nearly biting my nails off by the time the image formed of Lee in his office. Oh, my poor boy. My poor boy!

Lee's lost right eye was hidden by a black eye patch, his face bruised and patched with stitches, his forearm in a cast,  a set of crutches behind him.

“….So, what do you think about the guilty plea bargain?” the reporter was asking.

“As long as they can’t hurt anyone again, I suppose I should be happy,” he said as he rubbed the Nelson ring on his re-bandaged finger, “but in my humble opinion it’s not enough. It’s not justice. Not really.”

“How did Mr. Nelson set the bomb?”

“Hawthorne. I refuse to call him a Nelson after what he did to my family, friends, and colleauges.”

“It’s still his legal name.”

“He doesn't deserve it. He's never really wanted to be a Nelson, only the family fortune. Now, what were you asking?”

“How did Mr. Nelson, er, Hawthorne,  manage to blow up the boat just when the bride and groom were to board it for the sailing trip you arranged for them to go to Catalina? Where was it going to be, anyway? We've contacted every Channel Island resort and non have any reservations under either your or your father's name.”

“Well, firstly, police forensics say when Ron used his constitutionally allowed phone call, he entered a 'go' code for 1700, or 5 o'clock, the time Emily had said they'd meet me on the boat. That triggered the timer. Apparently he'd placed the bomb aboard when he picked up the ring, hoping to blow me up sometime since the car accident hadn't killed me. I don't think he thought about killing anyone else until today. As for the honeymoon location, well, yes, it was to be in the Channel Islands, but you can't expect me to let you know the exact location, now, can you?" he smirked,  "especially as the wedding trip is on hold."

“Back to the bomb, surely Mr. Nelson must have known that the explosion might kill or maim others as well as you three. And why kill the happy couple along with you?"

“Well, I can only think that, with all of us dead, a probate court might recognize him as the estate’s sole heir, even if he had to serve some time. I just thank God that his plans failed and that everyone’s okay.”

“A matter of opinion, sir, with all of your injuries, including the loss of an eye. It's amazing that you're rather calm and collected about it."

I almost threw up.

“What will you do now?” the reporter continued.
“Dress like a pirate?” he laughed. “Actually, at first a glass eye or actual eye transplant were suggested. But I've decided to go with an experimental vision prosthesis. It might look a bit weird. But it could become a valuable asset, though it might not restore my sight as there was also damage to the optic nerve when the wood splinters penetrated and tore up the eyeball and surrounding tissues.”

“If you don’t regain your sight in that eye, will you still be allowed command of Seaview?"

“Doubtful, though I’d like to suggest to the Navy that our friends across the pond let a rather famous admiral, no relation, retain command with a missing arm. But, if I’m refused command, at least I can still pat Seaview’s bulkhead whenever she’s in port. Though, I'll admit, I'll be devastated if I loose command of her.”

“Can you tell us when Admiral Nelson will be released from the hospital? We understand that you sat up with him last night despite his sombulistic state and only left his side a little while ago.”

“I’m sure he’ll be released as soon as he wakes up. No doubt he'll complain about being in the hospital. Neither of us like being patients very much."

“Is that the Nelson ring you're wearing? The one that was stolen by Mr. Nel...Hawthorne?”

“Yes. You know, I’d almost considered giving it to him, he wanted so much to show he was a Nelson. What he didn't realize is that it's not simply passed to verify a blood line, but as a symbol of respect. Of love…I’m afraid Ron’s lost any chance for that now.”

“So you and the admiral will be pretty much estranged from him from now on.”

“I can’t speak for Harry. But you never know. People do repent of their sins. But somehow I very greatly doubt Ron will ever feel any kind of repentance. In a way I pity him, and his mother. Despite their welcome into the family, in the end all they had regarding it was jealousy and greed.”

“Will the admiral demand the financial settlement he’d paid them to be returned?”

“It was a gift, so I don’t think he could demand its return if he wanted to. They can’t ask for any more, though, or they’ll have to pay it all back plus interest. One of those little fine print things.”

“Will you be purchasing a new sailboat soon? We understand you prefer fixer uppers and when refurbished, give them to various charities.”

“I hope to. I’ll still be able to sail with one eye if the prosthesis doesn't work. And the broken bones will heal soon enough.”

“Will you get another Lamborghini, if there are no vision problems?”

“Possibly, but I think I’d only consider an older model without artificial intelligence. It just goes to show that the more you computerize things, the easier to hack…I doubt that Ron could have caused that accident if it hadn’t had the AI chip. Maybe I’ll just stick to my Cobra.”

Just then Chip, bruised and in khaki's entered and stood to the side, looking at his watch, pointedly.

The reporter took the hint.

“Thank you very much for speaking with us, Captain.”

“My pleasure. Commander Morton will show you out.”

The view changed back to the original reporter at the gate.

“And so we say goodbye and good luck to the captain and await further news of Admiral Nelson recovery. And now in other news…”

“Well,” Jamison said from the doorway and came in, “about time.”

“Emily…”

“Will be fine. Everyone will. Mrs. Nelson and  Mrs. Crane are busy tidying up the bridal suite, aka bungalow. Might not be the private island paradise Lee had planned for you, but sea, salt, and sand would not be a good idea. Can you imagine how uncomfortable it would be to get any of that stuff down into Emily and your casts?"

"How is Lee, really?"

“I’m fine,” the man in question greeted us. “How do you feel, Harry,” he asked, walking with the crutch over to my bedside. “For awhile I thought you might sleep till doomsday. Figuratively speaking."

“Son, your eye,” I said, reaching out my hand to him, which he took in his.

“Did they tell you it was Ron?”

“No,” I said sadly, “But I saw the news a few minutes ago…you said the same things I would have said and…"

"Doc, do you have to poke and prod him right now?” Lee complained as Will tried to examine me.

“If he wants to get out of here, I do," Doc said. "So you’re out gunned."

He began to examine me further, and seemed satisfied.

“You’ll live. Report any headaches and nausea. Skipper? I want to be appraised of the surgical procedures at  Bethesda. But I'd like you to get some rest before them."

"I'll be flying back east with Mom and suffer a few days being fussed over before I incarcerate myself for the procedure and follow up.  Just think, one day, there may be no more blindness for our injured sailors, or anyone, for that matter.”

“There's no guarantee, Skipper. It's still the stuff of TV and movies."

"There have been good reports about it."

"Yes, but also failures."

"I have to try, Will. Not only so I can have the necessary depth perception, but I kind of like having 20/20 vision. Oh, they might not be able to give me that, but...anyway, Harry, I’ve given all non-essential staff a few extra days off. A bit quieter for your honeymoon if we're closed for business."

And honeymoon it was in spite of her broken arm and my broken leg.

“We’re a fine pair,” she said the next morning, her good arm awkwardly putting on some make up concealer on her black eye to no avail, “I look disgusting.”

“You look pretty wonderful to me,” I said, as I hobbled up behind her.

“Yeah, well, love does that to you.”

 As we had our breakfast of Pop Tarts and instant coffee, she gasped over the morning newspaper.

"Ron’s on the front page. Claims he  had such severe psychological issues growing up without you, that it made him mentally incompetent and he asked to change his plea to not guilty by mental defect. The judge tossed it out.”

“As he should have…let’s not talk about Ron, okay? He’s out of my life forever.”

“He’s still your son, Harry.”

“Ron tried to kill us all. Lee has continually shown that he would give his life for me. Now, you tell me who my real son is.”

Duly chastened by my logic, though she, as a woman, probably couldn't help having some sympathetic tendencies,  Emily dropped the subject. A kind of stalemate, really, our first married argument, well, sort of argument.  And I suppose, if I'd been there for Ron, well, maybe none of this would have happened. Perhaps. Maybe. Sort of. Hell, I don't know. But I do know that I'll never forgive him for trying to kill Lee, and causing the loss of his eye.

Oh, the information I have on the prosthesis are encouraging and Lee might end up with better eyesight than the real thing.

Or not. He might be sightless in that orbital cavity. Only time will tell.

There are those, like Ron, (not Emily),  who say blood is thicker than water, and that it gives one certain rights, like undeserved forgiveness. But it’s the heart that can determine otherwise.

Lee Beauregard Nelson-Crane is my son, my only son in the way that counts. In my heart. But I began to wonder, had I ever really showed Lee, had I ever shown anyone else, just  how much he meant to me? Irrefutable proof? Then it hit me. I knew just the thing and picked up the phone.

"Dry dock? There's been a slight change for Seaview's paint job once the repairs are completed...." 

I can't help but to wonder, when Lee resumes command, (should all things have gone well),  if he'll think the new 'eye' is malfunctioning before he realizes that his scarlet lady really is.

And so, here I am finishing up yet another journal. One that will probably yellow and be lost in time.

I hope not.

The ties that bind us all should be remembered.

Harriman Horatio Nelson.