AN: I'll make this short and sweet! This is just a re-do of the story Look for me by moonlight, most of the words are going to be the same and the story is pretty much the same except my O.C. I do not own ANYTHING except Jack. This is my first "real" fanfic so be nice :)
Sometimes you can pinpoint the exact moment in your life when things begin to go wrong. For me and my little sister, it was the day my father left my mother. I was eight
years old, Cynda was five, too young to undterstand what was happaning except that it involved a student in one of Dad's literature class. A girl named Susan. Because of her,
he was moving out of our house. We cried and begged him to stay, Cynda swore she would be good,but nothing we said or did made any difference. Dad packed his bads and books
and kissed us goodbye.
"I love you, Jacqueline," he said. "No matter where I live, I'll always be your father, and you'll always be my daughter. Nothing will change."
Of course, it wasnt true. A year later, Dad moved to Main with susan and Cynda and I stayed in Maryland with mom. That ment he was suddenly almost a thousand miles away. It also ment that
we saw less and less of him.
Not long after Dad married Susan, Mom married Steve, and things changed again. We became a Navy family, hopscotvhing all over America. California, Florida, Michigan-we
never stayed in one place long enough for Cynda and I to make friends, settle down and feel comfortable. For me, it wasnt too bad seeing as I was always the child who was
an outcast and never made friends in the first place. I was alway a loner. Cynda on the other hand was always an outgoing person and seeing her become more and more alone
made me feel like it was my responsibiliy to make her life as good as it going be. So I really did try to make her happy with whatever I could.
When Steve announced we were going to Italy for three years, Cynda flat out rebelled. Giving up all pretense of being a mature fifteen-year-old, she threw a major tamper
tantrum which resulted in a serie of phone calls between our mother and father. The end result was an invitation to stay with Dad for at least six months, longer if things
worked out.
Mom's role in setting up the visit suprised me. She ahd never forgiven Dad for falling in love with Susan. Nor did she approve of his career. In addition to writing best-selling mysteries,
he ran an old inn on the Maine coast-occupations my mother denounced as fiscally irresponsible, proof of Dad's inmmaturity and selfishness. In all honesty, his books arnt
half bad and running an old in sounds very interesting.
Whatever her reasons, revenge towards Dad, or her want to enjoy Italy without two teenagers, Mom put us on a plane to Maine one olf January day. As I left National Airport in Washingtion
behind, I tried to cinvince Cynda that we were going to a new and better life with Dad, but deep down inside, i wasnt so sure myself. I hadent seen our father in almost 5 years, hadent talked
to him about anything important for longer thatn that. Worse yet,Cynda and I havent met his wife or son, now five years old. I might not like Susan, She might not like me. Todd might be spoiled
and bratty.
By the time the plane landed, I'd had more time to thing than I'd expected. Thanks to winter storms buffeting the cost from Virginia to Nova Scotia, the flight had been
delayed, diverted, and unexpectedly stranded in Boston fortwo hours. I'd eaten lousy food and washed it down with even worse coffee (Luckly Cynda said the sodas were good).
I'd read a three-hundred-page novel, been pushed around by strangers, and not to mention being bounced from one air oicket to another all the way Bangor.
When the plane landed, Cynda and I remaided in our seats. In only a few moments, we would come face to face with a father who might not even recognize us. We were going to stay with him
for six months. I could tell that Cynda was over thinking these things. Probably working out how many weeks six months would be. I reached for her hand and gave it a soft squeez.
"Cynda," she looked at me with sad eyes. "Don't worry about Dad."
"I havent seen Dad for five years...What will we do? What will we talk about? A lot copuld go wrong in half a year, Jack." I could see tears creaping into her eyes.
I could see where she was coming from. How did he really feel about us? Did he really want us? Or was he just doing amom a favor? He had Susan now. And Todd.
"He doesnt need us. Nor does mom. She has Steve.I dont even have a boyfriend." She said looking away from me.
Before i could respond a flight attendent came walking by.
"Are you alright girls?"
REd-faced, Cynda and i gatherd our stuff. While we had been talking, everyone else had gotten off the plane. We were the last ones on bored.
"It was a terrible flight," The attendent said as if the bad weather explained everything. Chattering cheerfully about air turbulence, she followed us to the plane's exit, wished us well, and waved goodbye.
I expected to see Dad at the gate, but he wasnt there. No one was. The waiting area was deserted, the check-in unstaffed. Discarded newspapers and rows of empty seats gave the place a surreal look. It could be the set
for a movie about the end of the world.
I glanced over to see Cynda fighting panic. I took her hand and reminded her that Dad lived way up the coast, close to Canada. "The snow is probably delaying him.
He will be here soon. Dont worry." We sat down and cynda pulled out her book and began to leaf aimlessly through it. After a few minutes she began to move around in her seat and
and i could see the wheels in her head turning around.
After about an hour Cynda began to cry and held onto me. After that she began to get angry. People arrived to meet a flight from Albany.
"Cynda it will be ok. Im sure he will be here any minute."
Just as the room was begining to empty, Dad came running in. He looked the same as i remember, ruddy-faced and with a full beard. "Cynda, Jack, Im so sorry," he said\, giving us both a hug. "The roads were terrible-accidents all the way to Bangor, cars and trucks everywhere. Im lucky i got through."
Cynda clung to him, crying again. "I was scared something had happened to you," She sobbed. "I thought you'd gone off the road, i wsa afrain you'd forgotten..."
Dad apologized again, adding something about the way post men talk about getting the job done.
"You both look great," Dad said, probably to cover up the akward silence developing between the three of us. "Prettier than ever, just plain lovely."
We both srugged off his complament , to embarassed to say anything. We followed him to baggage claim. On the way i glanced at my reflection. There I was-a tall, thin girl.
Pale from the lack of sun, a pixie face and long arbun hair that, even in a french braid reached the very bottom of my back. Parts of it stuck out from sleeping on the plane.
a little curvy and chest slightly too big for my body, but all in all i liked the way i looked. At least i was confterble with my body.
After we found our stuff we loaded them into an old volvo and headed north towards Underhill Inn dodging in and out of snowstorms all the way to the coast.I was too tired to say much so i let Dad and Cynda to most of the
talking, something they enjoyed. He began by telling us how excited Susan and Todd were to meeting us.
Well that's it for now, so let me know how you like it and if i should keep going or not :)
kisses }-
Jack