Translations:
Feliz cumpleaños- Happy Birthday
Gracias, señora, por todo- Thank you, ma'am (a way to address a married woman), for everything.
De nada, Señorita Masterson. De nada- You're welcome, Miss Masterson. You're welcome.
Gracias- Thank you
8 years later…
"…happy birthday to you!" Everyone clapped and cheered as I blew out the candle on the sugary cake. I was 20 years old now and had grown even more since that day into what my mother called a "lovely young woman".
"Feliz cumpleaños, Marisol," my old nanny curtsied to me as I curtsied back.
"Gracias, señora, por todo."
"De nada, Señorita Masterson. De nada."
Suddenly I felt someone behind me tap me on the shoulder. I whirled around to greet this person. "Benjamin!" I cried with happiness when I recognized those beautiful tear-drop shaped brown eyes. The tears sprang to my own eyes and I could not resist wrapping my arms around him in a huge hug. Benjamin had been gone for almost a year on a trip to another island after his blacksmith master had passed away. In his last words to Benjamin he had stated that Benjamin to go and train under his best friend and fellow blacksmith on Saint Martin as there wasn't another in Port Royal that he felt was worthy to teach Benjamin. So he had, and had come back looking even better than ever.
He was very handsome, his dark, silky hair in a small ponytail resembling his cousin's and his dark brown eyes sparkling even more than they had when we were children. He had a small goatee that went from the bottom of his lip to his chin. He was a good 7-8 cm taller than me, with broader shoulders and more defined muscle in his arms. He definitely looked good, and somehow nothing like the skin-and-bones young man he was a year ago.
"I missed you," I whispered as I continued to hold him. Over the years our friendship continued to grow until one day I realized that I was falling for him. I knew that he also liked me as more than just a friend but lacked the courage to confess this to me or court me; he knew that as a person of lower status my father wouldn't allow it. So at that point we were in that awkward stage where we were no longer "just friends" but not officially courting.
"I missed you, too, Mari, but people are staring so you might want to let go," he whispered with his hushed baritone voice into my hair as he dropped his arms. I dropped mine as well, embarrassed. I glanced briefly at my father, who seemed to have a look of disapproval on his face.
"Sorry," I curtsied and he bowed. Our eyes met and I could still see that twinkle of mischief in his eye. I hope that never goes away, I silently prayed.
We spent the rest of the party separate, talking to different people. But after everyone left, Benjamin and I took a walk to his house and sat on his steps, our longtime and still favorite place to sit and talk.
"…and so Master LeBeau told me that I am now a master blacksmith! If only Will were here…" he said sadly.
I smiled sadly, placing my hand on his shoulder. "Will would be proud of the man you have become," I assured him. After a few moments, I couldn't resist asking. "Speaking of Will, I thought you wanted to look for him. And go to China."
"I was, but…things change. The reality is that Will is probably dead. We haven't heard from him in years, Marisol."
"But the pirate said—"
"Pirates lie, Marisol. I've stopped deluding myself into thinking that I will ever find Will again."
"Maybe you're right," I sighed. "We should be more realistic. You are destined to be a master blacksmith and I the wife of some rich, pompous, spoiled man."
I felt his body visibly tense under my hand at the mention of me being a wife to someone else. "Have there been any suitors since your last letter?" he asked. Since I was 16 and came out into society suitors had come to call, but I continued to reject them, for none of them made me feel as Benjamin made me feel. I suspected that Father knew this, and would soon make me choose a rich suitor and settle down. Ben and I had kept in close contact the last year, faithfully writing each other back and forth.
"Yes, of course." I removed my hand from his shoulder and placed it in my own lap. "Two. I turned them down, naturally. I believe I'm running out of options. There are only so many 'acceptable' men in Port Royal right now." I said mockingly.
Benjamin smiled slightly, putting his hand on mine. "What about finding your parents? I know you still have the desire to find them."
I shrugged, defeated. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I should just be content with knowing that my mother was Spanish and Catholic and loved me enough to give me to someone who could provide the things she couldn't. There's no way I'll be able to leave Port Royal, especially if father arranges a marriage, which is what I know it will come to."
"So you've given up, too?"
"Yup," a pause, and then, "Ben, what happened to us? We were so determined to sail those seas together and find your cousin and my parents all those years ago."
"We grew up," Benjamin said quietly, releasing my hand to wrap an arm around my shoulder as we watched the sun set.
"I wish we didn't have to," I murmured, leaning into him, my head on his shoulder. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
"Agreed," I felt him nod.
"Miss Masterson, your mother wants to speak with you," a servant approached us.
"Gracias, Maricela. I will be right behind you," I nodded to her, grabbing Ben's hand and squeezing it one last time before leaving.