THE EVERETT LEGACY

A/N: I was inspired to write this after reading the Sweet Valley books, The Wakefield Legacy and The Wakefields of Sweet Valley, but I'm not going so far back with the generations. This is the story of the Everett family, even though some of the BSC members and their ancestors make appearances, specifically that of Jason's stepfather, Steve. And yes, I'm one of those people who likes researching family histories.

PART ONE: Ada Rossi

April 10, 1912

"Ada? Ada, wake up, tesoro," I heard my mother's voice say. "We're here."

Yawning and stretching, I opened my eyes and sat up. It had been a long trip, but we'd finally arrived at our destination. We'd boarded a train in London last night, then woke up at the crack of dawn, and here we were.

I made my way out of the car at the Southampton dock and stared up in awe at the grand ship in front of me. I'd heard many wonderful things about this ship, the Titanic, including the belief that it was unsinkable. This was the ship that would take us to Manhattan in New York, where the Cirotas (pronounced "sur-ROH-tuhz"), which are my Uncle Giacomo (pronounced "JOCK-uh-moe")—Mama's brother—my Aunt Sarah, and my twelve-year-old cousin, Giorgio, had moved the year before. In all my life—seventeen years, to be exact—I'd never seen such a grand ship. In fact, it made the Mauretania look like a small toy boat.

I moved out of the way as my ten-year-old sister, Antonia, jumped out of the car. "Wow, Ada, isn't that ship something?" she commented as she somehow managed to regain her balance. "And they say it's unsinkable!"

"Practically unsinkable," Mama reminded her.

I nodded as Papa handed out our suitcases and tickets. "Okay, is everybody here?" he asked. "Ada?"

"Si," I answered, taking my suitcase and ticket.

"Giovanni?"

"Yes, Papa," my fourteen-year-old brother answered.

"Bettina?"

"Right here, Papa," my thirteen-year-old sister answered.

"Antonia?"

"I'm here, too, Papa," she answered, taking her suitcase and ticket.

The six of us headed up the gangplank to the second-class entrance. Once we were on board and had found our hallway, Mama handed out our cabin assignments. "Okay," she said. "Your father and I are in D-51, Giovanni and Antonia are in D-52, and Ada and Bettina are in D-53."

I nodded as we made our way up to D-deck and disappeared into our rooms. The first thing I noticed was how much room there was in the hallway, as opposed to the third-class portion of the ship, or so I'd heard. Our room had a set of bunk beds and a couch in it. Neither of us wanted to sleep on the top bunk, so I took the bottom bunk and Bettina took the couch. Anyway, our room was pretty nice. Granted, it was no parlor suite, but at least we wouldn't be climbing over each other just to get in or out of the room.

"Isn't it wonderful not to have to go out into the hall to change your mind?" Bettina asked in a half-joking, half-observant voice.

That's my sister for you. She literally cannot go five minutes without making a joke about something. Most of the time, I'm holding my sides from laughing so hard. Other times, I pretend not to get them. Every once in a while, though, I can't help but groan. And this was definitely one of those times. Apparently, Bettina got the mess-age, because she decided no more jokes until after dinner.

As I put my suitcase down on the bed, I looked over my shoulder and saw a boy passing by in the hallway. He was about a head taller than me, and looked about my age with reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. He was wearing an olive-green shirt, tan pants, brown leather oxfords, and a gray jacket and cap. Behind him was a little boy who looked about five or six years old, who I assumed was his little brother. What really got my attention was how patient he was with this kid, considering how excited he was to be on what was known throughout the world as the "Ship of Dreams". I was really impressed with how he was able to keep him from running off and getting lost in the crowd.

Then he looked up at me and smiled. It was the most wonderful smile. Looking at him, I felt like everything around us had stopped, an nothing else in the world mattered, except him and me.

But of course, it wasn't going to last forever, because his parents and sister, who looked around Antonia's age, had come up behind him. "All right, come along, boys," the father said in a heavy Irish brogue. He was a big ox of a man with a big bushy moustache, just like Papa. Even though he seemed kind of gruff, I could sense that he was a very loving and gentle man. In my opinion, I think all fathers are like that.

This was going to be a great voyage, but despite how much I was looking for-ward to the trip to America, I still had a sense that something terrible was going to happen.

Later that evening in the dining room, I saw that boy and his family sitting at another table. There was another family that got my attention. It was a man and woman who looked about ten years older than my parents with a little girl who looked about seven years old. And let me tell you, she was beautiful. If you can imagine a porcelain doll that's just come to life, that'd be her.

After we finished our meal, Mama, my sisters, and I approached the woman and her daughter. "Hello," Mama said to the woman. "My name's Liliana Rossi, and these are my daughters, Ada, Bettina, and Antonia."

"Hello to you, too," the woman answered as her husband got up and went to the smoking lounge with the other men. "I'm Esther Hart, and this is my daughter, Eva. Would you like to sit down?"

"Sure," Mama said.

"If you need me, I'll be over there," I told Mama, pointing in the direction I'd seen that boy go.

"Tutto ok, Ada," Mama said.

I caught up with the boy on the deck. "Hi," I said breathlessly. "I've been mean-ing to talk to you all afternoon. I couldn't help noticing how wonderful you were with your little brother."

"Aye," he said. "Tommy can be a handful, but he's still a good kid. I'm David Ryan."

"Ada Rossi," I said, extending my hand.

"Ada," he repeated, taking it. "It seems you are as beautiful as your name."

I giggled, and he kissed my hand.

"Well, I should be going," I said at last. "I hope to see you again, David Ryan."

"See you later," he said.

What a nice boy.

April 14, 1912

I'd seen David a few more times since that night out on the deck. I wondered if I'd see him at the church service that morning. I put on my new purple ankle-length dress—which I'd bought at a shop in London the week before we boarded the ship, put my hair up in a bun, and Mama put a pearl necklace around my neck. When we were ready, we left for the chapel.

As we were singing "Eternal Father Strong to Save", I couldn't help glancing across the aisle and saw David and his family. They seemed like such a nice family.

After dinner, I met up with David on the deck again. "Having a good time, Ada?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," I answered. "This is probably the best time I've ever had in my life."

"I'm glad. You know. I think I know a way to make it even better."

"Cosa intendi?" I asked.

I wasn't sure if David would understand my Italian, but apparently, he did. "Give me your hand," he instructed. "And close your eyes."

As I did, he said, "Okay, step up onto the railing."

With David's help, I climbed up onto the railing and felt him take my arms and spread them apart, and wrap his arms around my waist to keep me from falling overboard. "Come, Josephine, in my flying machine, and it's up she goes, up she goes..." he sang. I couldn't help giggling, even though he's a rotten singer.

The next thing I felt was him climbing up on the railing beside me. "Okay, Ada," he whispered. "Open your eyes."

When I did—wow!

I could see the ocean directly below me and the darkening sky above me. And with my arms extended, I knew that even though I was standing on the railing, it really did look like I was flying. It was amazing!

After a few more minutes, we climbed down and sat on a nearby bench. "So, how did you like that, Ada?" he asked.

"Lo amavo," I grinned. "You know, I wish I really could fly."

"You can," David said, putting an arm around me. "Well, not literally, of course, but if you truly believe in yourself and if you persevere in everything you do, there's no limit to how high you can fly."

You know what? As soon as David said that, I could feel my heart melt. "Oh, David," I whispered, and threw my arms around him. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. As we held each other under the setting sun, I had the most wonderful feeling, as if a wish I'd secretly had all my life just might come true.

Which is why I didn't expect what would eventually happen, or even conceive of the possibility.

Later that night, I was sleeping in my bed when I felt a bump and heard an ear-splitting grinding sound that jolted me and Bettina wide awake, as did the vibration. "Ada?" she whispered. "Che cos 'era questo?"

"Non lo so," I answered as we jumped out of bed. "Let's go wake Mama and Papa."

When we got out into the hall, we found our whole family standing there. "Did you feel that?" Antonia asked.

I nodded. Suddenly, that very bad feeling I'd had about the trip was back. And it didn't help matters that I'd just finished reading Wreck of the Titan before we'd left London.