James had never been so excited to see the springtime. He had to admit, he was quite looking forward to sailing in the warm weather. Spring meant life and it certainly showed at Manor Road Cemetary.
He always tried to visit his mother as often as he could, sitting in the patch of grass beside her stone grave. On many visits, he would bring his journal and write as long as he could, spinning his spidery handwriting under his wrist grew too stiff to move. Other times, he would tell her about the happenings in his life. He knew he must have looked mad, talking to nobody but in his mind, his mother sat beside him with her hand upon his, listening intently.
That day was his last opportunity to visit her before his new post. He was quite happy to be put on board RMS Titanic. She was the largest and fastest ship ever built, fit with the latest in technology. There was a slight disappointment that his posting interfered with his plans to go to Paris with his mentor, Mister Selby - a Yank who had shown him nearly everything high society had to offer. But, how could anybody refuse such an honor? He would be put in the history books.
Kneeling on the grass next to Evelyn Moody's grave, he placed his long, slender hand upon the cool grey stone. "Hi, Mum." He said, so gently that the breeze carried the tenor of his voice away. "I'm leaving soon. Back to New York, you see. I won't have time for a rah-tah. I am going to be on the greatest ship built to date. We'll be very busy or so from what I hear."
There was a beat. It was as if he were waiting for a response. All that came back was the chirping of some birds in the trees behind him.
"They say she's unsinkable. I've read all about it in the papers. She is the jewel of the White Star Line and they chose me."
Another beat of silence. He could feel his stomach turning in knots. How he missed his mother… the dearest person to his heart.
"I won't be causing any trouble on Titanic. You probably won't believe me when I say that, but I do promise not to make a clown out of myself this time - do you think they see something in me-"
"Jim?"
For a moment, James' ocean blue eyes widened at his name being called. He was about to call for his mother until his name was called again. James looked behind him and saw his sister walking toward him with a bouquet from her garden.
"Maggie, what are you doing here?" He asked, flushing a soft rose on his cheeks. He rarely visited the grave with his siblings, only because he would have much preferred to spend time with her without their judgemental gaze. Not that they necessarily would judge him but he felt as if he had a ritual that he didn't want impeded on.
"My daffodils sprouted so I thought I would bring some to Mother dear." She replied. She stepped forward and placed the bundle of flowers before the grave before sitting beside her younger brother. "You were talking to her. You know she can't hear you."
James considered her words for a moment. Realistically, she was right but there was always some slight hope that somehow Mother would know. "She was always listening to my babbling," he chuckled. "I will not prescribe to your cynicism. She is listening and I think you should have more faith in her."
"On the count of your babbling, I do not think you gave her or anyone else much of a choice." The pair exchanged a cheeky glance before breaking out into giggles.
"I'll miss your banter when you leave, Jim. I think you are the only thing that gives Scarborough any color."
James played with the grass between his fingers as he gazed up at her in disbelief. "Do you see who you're speaking to?"
"Yes, I am speaking to my stubborn little brother who rarely gives himself the credit he deserves. You are a joy, Jim. Mum thought that more than anyone."
James smirked. "Mum thought I could be a pain in the backside, as well."
With that said, Margaret stood and she dusted off the back of her dress. She crossed her arms as she looked sternly at James. "I think you should have more faith in her."
His eyes flickered to the grave and he could practically see his mother taking Maggie's side. She always spoke so highly of him, even when he caused trouble. "Touché," replied James shortly as he stood. He brushed off his bottom as he took a parting glance with his mother's grave. For a moment, it felt like his feet were frozen on the ground. He did not want to leave so soon but Maggie was carrying on talking about dinner plans and what she had bought for dessert.
"Let's go, Jim. I'll let you sneak a slice of cake if you'd like."
He could not deny that so he pried his feet from the ground.
"Goodbye, Mum. I'll see you soon."

A/N:

I am back with another JPM fic. This one is a bit shorter. I hope you enjoyed 3
This particular fic isn't something that actually happened. I just wanted to explore the relationship between his mother and his sister, both of whom he had a very tight-knit relationship.