Chapter Eleven
Smile
Lily Allen owns the title to this song. I just thought it fit the title perfectly.
The days passed by slowly for Jack (were they years? He wasn't sure. They could have been, for all he knew). The only thing that helped him keep track was the days that the newspaper the came on Saturday and Sunday. How long had it been since the last newspaper came? He didn't know, nor did he care.
The more Jack looked at Amy, the more he realized how much his daughter looked like Melissa. Besides the brown eyes and brown hair, everything else was the same. She had left a reminder of her behind, he liked to think. He couldn't look at Amy without thinking of Melissa, the girl that he had been able to see transform into a woman.
Jack hated to admit to himself that he missed her. His co-workers and neighbors asked him how he was doing. He would say that he was doing alright. Never would he verbally admit that he missed her, not even to one of the Turners. Besides, they were sure he missed her – something that he hated.
He found himself getting headaches during the day when he was checking things out at the register. Jack supposed that was from lack of sleep – both from Amy and staying up at night, thinking about Melissa. He longed to get a good night's sleep. Jack couldn't help but wonder when that would be.
When yer not th' only one takin' care o' th' Sea Turtle, he thought to himself.
He didn't want to wave the white flag. Jack wanted to believe that he could take care of his daughter himself. He hated asking for help, and he would not start with asking help to take care of his daughter.
What if ya don't get 'elp now? Jack asked himself. No one 'elpin' ya. No female influence...
There was no female influence near him, though. Janice, the one who watched Amy during the day, was the closest thing to a mother figure that Amy would have through the years. She and her family would eventually move, though.
He was back to square one. Jack was discovering couldn't take care of Amy alone, but he didn't want to admit that he couldn't.
Kate said that he could live with them. He remembered her saying that at the wake that if they needed to live with them, they could.
That night, Jack decided to do just that.
Kate was up late the night of June 26. She found herself thinking of Melissa – not mourning her this time, she thought with a bizarre realization. Kate was thinking of Beckett. She hated him. No, hate was too kind of a word. So was loathing. He was the one responsible for Melissa's death. She loathed him with a burning passion that still stayed under her skin.
She wondered if he slept at night. How did he feel about killing Melissa? Did he regret it? Was he – God forbid – satisfied?
She wondered what she would do if she ever saw him again. Would she ask him why he did it? Would she scream at him? Would she do what he did to Melissa? No, she was sure that he could never kill a person. She would just be putting someone through what she and Jack were dealing with.
It didn't mean that she didn't think that Beckett didn't deserve it, though.
She heard her phone ringing that night. She couldn't hear "You're Beautiful" drifting through the air without thinking of "Goodbye My Lover" and Melissa.
Hearing that one thing that reminded Kate of her made her miss Melissa all that much more; her blonde hair, beautiful smile, and gentle personality. She wondered how it was that one simple thing could bring back so many emotions.
With Will sitting up (he must not have fallen asleep, either), she reached for her cell phone on the nightstand. The caller ID said "Jack".
Jack. Relief swept over her. It would be good to talk to him.
She remembered the last time that the last time he called, Melissa was going into labor. Another memory brought back another wave of emotions.
She opened the phone and sat up. "Hello?"
"Ah, Katie!" Jack said.
It was so good to hear his voice again. Before she knew it, she was smiling – the first time in a week and a half.
"Jack!" Kate said, smiling. She then wondered what the reason for the call was. "What's going on?"
"Just a li'l chat," he said nonchalantly.
Will turned on the lamp next to them. Light filled the room.
Kate looked at the clock. It read 11:11.
"This late?" she asked.
"Sure. Why not?"
She wondered how he could be the first person to make her smile.
That's right, she silently told him. You're Captain Jack Sparrow.
"I'll start, then. How are you doing?" she asked.
"Just fabulous," Jack said.
Kate knew that either he was still in denial, or he didn't want to talk about. She guessed the latter.
"'Ow are you, Katie?"
"I've been better," she answered honestly.
"Wonderful," Jack said.
She frowned. Why was he acting so strange?
"Listen, I need a favor."
She immediately braced herself. Favors that Jack needed were never good.
"It depends on what it is," she replied.
"Well, I don't have the same amount of human interaction that I 'ad when Mel was 'round."
You mean, before she died, Kate thought, feeling a tug at her heart.
"It's really rather borin' o'er 'ere," he continued. "So, I 'ave a proposal for you, dear Katie."
She could just imagine him using his hand gestures as he walked around the living room talking to her.
Kate knew what the proposal was. It was the same one she had proposed to him a week ago.
"'Ow would ya like t' 'ave Cap'n Jack live with ya?"
She couldn't help but laugh. Only he could say that and make her smile at a time like this. She was grateful for him.
They had opened their house to him for a reason: they wanted him to know that they would always be here for him. He was accepting their hospitality, feigning that it wasn't under the circumstances that Kate had in mind. She knew better, though.
"I'd be honored," she said.
At that moment, Kate realized that one day, everything would be alright.
To: Jack
From: Kate
Subject: A Game of Twenty Questions
Date: Friday, June 27, 2008 12:42 PM CST
Hey, you.
I realized after we hung up last night that we have no details set up. Hence the subject.
What day do you want to move in?
How are you going to get here?
Am I going to have to fly to Minnesota to help you?
How will you take care of Amy on the way to New York?
Get back to me as soon as you can. This week wouldn't be good if you need my help to drive (which I assume you do – you'll have boxes, not things that you can put in a suitcase and take across the country). Photo shoot is Wednesday. I'm not looking forward to them. It's hard to act carefree right now.
On a lighter note, you made me smile last night. It was the first time I've smiled since...well, you know. Thank you, Jack.
Lookingvery forward to seeing you again,
Kate
To: Kate
From: Jack
Subject: Yes to the Third
Date: Friday, June 27, 2008 8:54 EST
Hello, me darling.
By, the way, you asked four questions, not twenty. And here are my four answers:
The sooner the better! Unless you'd like to postpone my presence for any reason. Doubtful. Why would you postpone me?
I plan on having you drive me all the way to New York. Think of the laughs we could have, Katie. Nothing but a thousand miles and three days between us. A wonderful thought, isn't it?
Unless you can somehow magically teleport yourself here or would like to waste time by driving, you'll want to fly here.
I guess we'll be making lots of stops.
Doesn't it sound like a fun few days we'll have, Katie? Just like the old days.
Your's,
Captain Jack Sparrow
To: Jack
From: Kate
Subject: Plan on Friday
Date: Friday, June 28, 2008 7:30 AM CST
Hey again.
Alright, since you'll be having boxes that you'll need to bring with, I have a last-minute flight booked. I'll be landing at MSP on July 5 at 3:30 in the afternoon, and I'll (hopefully) be there a little before 5:00.
Please don't make me wait, either. I want to leave the next morning. Pack everything and talk to your boss and landlord.
Will is going to go get a crib for the guest bedroom while we're gone. There's already a bed in there for you.
Alright, stop reading this. Go pack what you need to.
Kate
As you can see, it's starting to lighten up. But could seeing Amy bring feelings back for Kate? Something tells me a serious talk between them is on the horizon.
And what could those two talk about on the way to New York? There's more than a thousand miles of road, they have to pass the time somehow.
