Begin!

~Beatrice's POV

Spending the last week of our journey home with good associates was a great thing. Bertrand was surprised when I told him that apparently I was speculated to be dead. He even made a comment about how he hoped that Lemony didn't take that news too hard. I'm sure he was informed more accurately to keep him from worrying. Of course, Bertie didn't have to worry about such things. Olaf wasn't aware that I'd left Lemony, not that it was any of his business, but it did mean that he was more likely to look for the two of us together still. Since he had no clue where Lemony moved to, that meant he was just as in the clear as I was.

Bertie spent much of our trip helping John with the mechanical aspects of the ship. He was eager to do so, as having something to work on put him in a good, productive, mood. Not to mention, it was new territory for him as he had never gotten to work on a submarine engine before. Either way Bertie was happy, and that was all I could have hoped for. And John was happy to have such a capable engineer around, even temporarily.

As for myself, I mostly spent my time with Sammie while she went about her day. We'd have nice conversations about the happenings in the organization, and occasionally she'd let me help her with some chores. (Only if I was physically able; no heavy lifting for me that's for sure.) She even gave me a trial run at childcare by letting me take a turn watching Fiona for a few hours. Which was both fun, and adorable. She's the sweetest thing! I'm sure my child will be very good friends with her someday.

And on our first night on the Queequeg, I lost several rounds of poker to Fernald… Boy is a gifted card player! The whole game, Bertie was sitting next to me laughing.

"I swear next time I visit I'm bringing my own deck cause yours is clearly loaded," I said after losing my fifth round.

"Sore loser, Miss Anwhistle," Fernald said grinning like a fool, with his arms folded. "I play legit."

"It's true Bea," Sammie said from my other side, holding Fiona in her lap, "He plays by the rules, it's just that those cards like him. Won't even go easy on his own mother! Here's a fun bit of trivia, technically the submarine belongs to him because John bet it and lost."

John rolled his eyes. "I didn't think he'd win a sixth time!"

"You were the one who made the bet, dear," Sammie replied, patting her husband's arm. "Couldn't stand losing to his apprentice."

"Aye, and I'm not following through with it," John said, "Giving the keys to a submarine to a 14 year old is a terrible idea. Even if he's my stepson."

I couldn't help agreeing with that on some level. It did sound insane. Speaking of insane…

"Let me try again, Fernald, I am not quitting this until I beat you," I said.

Fernald shrugged, "Suit yourself, ma'am. You deal."

"I can't believe a boy I used to babysit for handedly kicked my ass at cards seven times in a row…"

I sighed as I sat up in my bed that night. Bertie and I had been given a room in the barracks where we weren't able to share a bed, due to the size of the beds, but we could at least sleep next to each other. My pregnancy had started making it hard for me to get to sleep easily, I'm sure it might come easier for any future children we have. Maybe I can read a book for a while, that usually helps me get tired, especially if it's a dreadfully boring one. I saw Bertie snoozing peacefully on the bed next to mine and very carefully got up so as not to wake him and walked out into the hall. On my tour of the ship, I remembered the library was close to our room.

For a submarine, the Queequeg had a very cozy library. It was small, sure, but it was organized and well cared for. It also doubled as an office due to the writing desk in the back. I turned on a reading lamp on the center table and browsed the shelves for some reading material. There was a large section on marine life, I assumed those were Fernald's, the entire collection of the works of Herman Melville, among other various kinds of books; including some poetry. Not many of which looked appealing personally, but that might be exactly what I was looking for. I plucked out a book on a random subject I wasn't sure I would care for, and was about to start reading it, but then I noticed something behind it. A smaller book with a brown leather spine, and no label on such as to what it was.

They say people who hide a book behind another book are doing so because they are ashamed of what they own. Or that they want to forget about its contents entirely. And to look at such a book was also considered a very rude thing to do. They went to so much trouble to make sure no one could see it after all…

But my curiosity got the better of me.

I gently pulled the small book out and put the previous book back in its place. Upon examining the cover I saw that it was a small photo album, not a novel, which explained why it had no title on the spine. I glanced at the doorway, no one was around, everyone else was asleep. So I flipped it open.

And what I saw first damn near broke my heart.

The first picture I saw was of a much younger Sammie, around maybe 8 at most, standing next to an equally young Esmé. Both grinning widely at whoever had taken this picture so many years ago. I felt guilty looking at it, for more reasons than just the fact that I wasn't supposed to be doing so. Even so, I was intrigued. I never paid their friendship any mind, but now I had a chance to see records of how it actually went. So I flipped through some more pages.

Each picture had a label underneath stating who all was in it, which didn't help me much since the only people I recognized in here were Sammie and Esmé. I flipped through them growing up together, seeing them first as children, then teens at V.F.D. parties with handsome gentlemen around them vying for their attention, and finally to young adults. Then I noticed a few empty spaces that were missing pictures. And I quickly figured out why they had been removed when I got far enough in. On one particular page was one of just her and Esmé again, only Sammie was wearing a gorgeous wedding dress, and Esmé was wearing an extravagant dress to show she was the maid of honor. Ah, I get it, she removed the pictures from the wedding that had her ex-husband in them. Given the reasons for her divorce, that was an understandable move. Sammie was quite young when she first married I noticed. She couldn't have been older than 19.

Of course, she was always older than me by several years. I flipped through once more to see a picture of just a positive pregnancy test with a label that said, "We're expecting!" The following picture was of Esmé reacting to being told her friend was having a baby. She looked happy for her. I smiled at that. If there was any good that came out of Sammie's previous marriage it was her children. And it was nice to see that while Esmé might not have been a "settle down and have a family type," she did support Sammie in her being different.

Page after page made me feel both happy and sad at the same time. If it hadn't been for me needing that damned sugar bowl...

"I ruined this friendship," I whispered to myself.

"No, you didn't."

I jumped and dropped the album as I heard Sammie's voice from the doorway. She leaned against the doorway giving me a curious look.

"Sammie I- you scared me! I'm so sorry! I didn't want to upset you!" I was about to pick the book up but Sammie came over and grabbed it for me. I guess she didn't want me bending down due to my growing stomach.

"I'm not mad Bea, photo albums are meant to be looked at, you know," She said, jokingly.

"Heh, yeah but usually not… without permission," I replied sheepishly.

She gestured for us to sit down and I took the chair in front of the writing desk while she sat next to me. She set the album gingerly on the desk. While she claimed she wasn't mad, she clearly didn't intend to let me read further into it. For a while, we were quiet, before I asked why she was up.

"I had to get a drink of water and check on Fiona," She said. "I noticed the lights were on here, I assumed that Fernald was up late when he shouldn't be."

She wasn't looking at me as she answered; she was looking down at the album.

"I'm so sorry for invading your privacy…"

"Actually I'd like it if you'd help me figure out why I can't bring myself to throw the damned thing out and only keep a few specific pictures from it."

I didn't know if I'd be able to do that but I could certainly try. As for specific, the news of her being a mother was definitely one she was referring to. There might have been others further in that I hadn't seen as well.

"I think it's because there's a lot of happy memories in there. Things you don't want to forget or lose."

"I already knew that Bea. Now tell me why I still can't get rid of it even after knowing that she tried to hurt you? Or me? Or my then unborn daughter?"

That I didn't have an answer to.

"Tell me more about her… that might help."

Sammie sighed and pushed her glasses up so she could rub her eyes tiredly. "You asked me if I'd forgive her. Truthfully, I don't know."

I let her continue. "You don't understand the difficult position I'm in. You grow up with a friend from school who said hi to you on your first day while you were alone and shy. Who was one of the few people who didn't tease you for your odd glasses. You spend all that time together going through your secret organization training and education, going on missions and loving it. She brings you out of your shell and gives you the confidence to be a stronger person. She agrees to be the maid of honor at your wedding. She was always a little odd, she loved that tea set of hers, but it never bothered you before. It's her most prized possession, but hey it's not a big deal."

"And then she was there for you when you had your first kid; she didn't have any interest in children but good friends support each other. And then 13 years later, she's the one who finds your husband in bed with another woman. And she took the pictures to prove it to you. Then she buys you a case of wine and lets you cry into her shoulder all night; the day before you find out that you got pregnant again from the last time your 'husband' even wanted anything to do with you. And then she paid, out of her own pocket, for your divorce attorney because it turned out that your 'husband' had been stealing from your personal account to buy gifts for his mistress."

At this point I could see her eyes get misty... "And she gave you extra to support yourself, and promised that she would be there for you if you ever needed anything else. And she promised that she'd be a doting auntie to your next child and would spoil the hell out of them. And she was happy to hear that you had fallen for a charming submarine captain who happened to be your son's chaperone. Because 'damn it Sammie you deserve a man who will be good to you and if you think this is a better choice then go for it, darling.'"

Her voice started breaking. "And then you watch her pull a knife on you and your friend because she couldn't stand the thought of losing her most valued possession even for a noble cause. While you were pregnant with a child that she claimed to want to be good to and you were thinking of asking her to be its godmother. And then a friend of yours makes a very difficult choice for the greater good and steals her precious sugar bowl and she goes off the deep end loony over it and flees the country without a trace. And you get called into the Duchess' office to for a fucking interrogation about the fact that one of my closest and dearest friends had unhinged and had gone rogue."

I put my hand on her shoulder to make her stop. She was crying at this point.

I don't think I could ever forgive Esmé for what she tried to do to me. And the things that she might do to my family if I was ever gone from this world were only left to my imagination. But listening to Sammie talk in such length about their history together and how much it pained her to see a friend walk out of her life, gave me a much deeper understanding of why her only response to the same question was "I don't know."

I thought about my friendship with Karen. We also grew up together, and while we might not have had the same kind of history exactly, if Karrie ever did something wrong to me or my family, I too would have a difficult time saying whether or not I'd forgive her. There was so much good outweighing the bad. But I knew Karrie was different, stable, she'd never do anything to harm me, my other friends, or my family. I watched Sammie wipe her eyes with her glasses cleaning cloth.

"Are you gonna be ok," I asked gently.

She nodded. "Thank you… talking about it did help get it out of my system. It's very difficult to just throw away the last 20 years."

"And that's why it's so difficult for you to throw away that book."

"Yeah…" I had a feeling she knew that already too and wanted to make the explanation easier for me to understand. "I should get back to bed, it's very late…"

"Yeah I should try to get some sleep too. Bertie worries about me staying up."

I gave Sammie a comforting hug, before we returned to our rooms, and apologized again for being, at the core, the reason why she was so upset. She assured me that she agreed with my need for the sugar bowl without question. "Just because Essy can't see it doesn't mean that I can't." I also realized during this conversation why she continued to refer to her as "Essy;" a part of her wanted to continue seeing her as a friend who had done wrong but could come back to the right. Or perhaps it was just a force of habit.

In a few years time however, I would get news that would haunt the memory of this conversation we had that night. When Esmé would soon reveal that she cared more about that sugar bowl than she did the life of someone she called friend. That offense, however, Sammie did not forgive.

~End of Chapter

I cried writing this. I hope you're happy.

And yes I'm still technically sick, I'm still coughing, but I'm well enough to write a nice long, thoughtful, chapter for you.