Emma
The next morning, she packed up Rumple and drove to the one place that felt like home, the Beach House. It was late enough that she avoided too much of the rush hour traffic and as she smoothly transitioned from the I-395 to the turnpike with no difficulties she was feeling confident. However once the turnpike gave way to the US 1 that was another story. There was road construction just after she got off the turnpike, which always slows things down, and then a slight rain shower, that was thankfully quick. "I'm thankful the Beach House is in Key Largo," Emma told Rumple, who was sitting in the back of her bug with his ears perked up like he knew exactly where their destination would lead. "Just a little longer boy," she told him as she reached up to scratch his ears. He leaned into her hand and gave a little whine. Emma pushed the gas pedal a bit harder, ready to get out of the car and stretch her legs but also worrying that the house might not still be sitting empty and she would have to explain to the new tenants why she was there.
Arching her back to stretch the kinks out, she decided a drink would be wonderful. Spotting a drive-through of a fast food chain, on her right, she quickly pulled off the road and ordered a large soft drink and grilled cheese for her and a burger, plain and a bottle of water for Rumple. After receiving the food, she pulled into a parking place in the shade and opened her grilled cheese, sat it on her lap and then opened Rumple's burger and held it out to him. He delicately sniffed it, then gave her a look and raised his eyebrows, "What is that look for?" she asked him. He did it again but this time Emma looked at the burger closely. "Oh, it has a pickle and some onions on it?" She picked up an extra napkin, opened the burger and took off the parts he wouldn't eat. "Spoiled a bit are we? Sorry boy, I told them plain. Here," and she held the burger out to him while he daintily took bites of it, one at a time. Using her left hand, she ate her grilled cheese and drank her soft drink. Once Rumple was done, she gathered the trash and deposited it in the bin that thankfully was on the way out of the parking lot.
Merging easily on US 1, Emma continued to head south to Key Largo, noticing that the further she drove away from the hustle and bustle of Miami, the more relaxed she felt, the smaller the buildings became, and there were fewer chain stores and restaurants. Seeing a sign that read Welcome to Key Largo, made her smile and she immediately started looking on her right for the two large Royal Palm Trees, surrounded by smaller True Date Palms. Turning slowly onto the drive she noticed that no one had paved the driveway as it was still mostly sand for about a half mile before the seashells that had been there for years allowed for better traction. The drive was still lined with Coconut Palms, some leaning over the drive, creating nice shade, others standing tall and majestic and full of coconuts. Noticing no cars parked in front of the house, Emma pulled her bug in, put it in park and turned it off. It's so peaceful here, she thought.
She opened the car door and pulled up the seat so Rumple could jump out. He immediately found a tree and relieved himself and then started sniffing everything in his way. She moved down the path toward the beach noting that nothing looked as if it had been disturbed from when she moved out last month. Sea grass, small palm trees and various other plants lined the path, almost covering it entirely in a place or two so she had to step over them, but the view was unimpeded. The ocean spread out as far as she could see with gentle waves lapping against the stilts that were holding the house up. The beach was lined with rocks of various sizes but not a soul was present. It was as if she were here alone. Whistling for Rumple, she moved down onto the beach and bent over to take off her shoes. Digging her toes in the cool sand, she was glad that she had thought to bring a sweatshirt and untied it from around her waist to pull it over her head. The sea breeze felt good on her face and the sun was pleasantly warm. Heading down to the water, she turned right and slowly started walking.
Periodically she would stop to pick up an interesting looking seashell, putting some in a pocket, or tossing them back into the water. Rumple spent his time chasing after seagulls and little birds called sanderlings that raced toward the water and then as the waves came in raced just as quickly away. Periodically he would bring a stick for her to throw and Emma would throw it up the beach away from the water as she didn't want to have to ride back to Miami with the smell of wet dog in the car. All the sand was going to be bad enough.
After about an hour of walking and clearing her mind, she turned around to go back the way she came. She passed by a couple of large beach homes, generally over 5000 square feet, but was lucky that she didn't see anyone and the only sounds she heard were the ebb and flow of the ocean, the wind and the wildlife. "This is paradise," she told Rumple "no other words can describe it." Rumple apparently agreed for he barked and took off down the beach as if to race her back.
Coming up on the back of the beach house, Emma stood to admire its design. Made mostly of glass with solar panels on the roof, standing on stilts to keep it above the water's edge, even during high tide, it sparkled just like diamonds. Rotating her head to loosen up her neck, she picked up her shoes and moved to the outdoor faucet that had been set up to wash the sand off. Once her feet were clean and shoes back in place she wandered back up the beach path and walked with Rumple to the walk that led to the front door. She smiled seeing the paw prints still lining the walk. Turning from the path she noticed the flag on the mailbox was up, and since she had left her letter in it, she was curious if it was still the letter she had left a month ago. Strangely nervous, she opened the box and peered inside. Laying there was a single envelope, sealed, and on one side, her name and address. Taking the envelope with her, she called for Rumple and headed for the car. Once inside she read;
February 2012
Dear Miss Swan,
I got your note and I'm afraid there seems to be a misunderstanding. As far as I know the beach house has been empty for several years. Maybe your note was meant for the Gold cottage that's just down the beach. However, I am curious about the paw prints you mentioned.
Sincerely,
Killian Jones
Emma reread the letter a couple of times, pondering over each word. She got out of the car and walked back up to the front walk and looked around, still not noticing anything that made her think someone was living there. And she was curious about why they would want to talk to her about paw prints that were on a walk, after, she had already told them that they were there when she moved in? Shaking her head, she reached into the car, grabbed some paper and penned a response and put it in the mailbox before heading back to Miami.
Killian
Killian slammed the door of his truck shut, picked up the box of supplies he had just purchased with one hand and the cans of paint with the other and as he was walking to the front door, noticed that the flag was down, so opening the box, grabbed the letter. He was met at the door by his new friend, who passed him quickly, obviously on his way to visit a tree or two. Once inside he dropped everything on the table and put away the food and the dog supplies he had purchased at the market. He started to unpack the box of tools but the letter was laying there in front of him and he was curious what it said. After picking it up, he carried it to his favorite chair and sat down. Sliding his finger under the flap, he opened it and pulled out a single piece of paper. It read;
Dear Mr. Jones,
I'm very familiar with the Gold Cottage but I never lived there. Call me old fashioned but I don't think a cottage should be over 5000 square feet. So, let me try this again. I used to live in the Beach House. Then I moved. I now live at 200 Biscayne Blvd Way, Miami. I would appreciate it if you would forward my mail if there is any. Oh and by the way, the year is 2014, it has been all year. Ask anyone.
Emma Swan
Killian laid the letter down on the table next to his chair and slowly got up. "2014," he said to the room, "2014?" he said a bit louder. "Am I daft?" Picking up his cell phone he pulled up the calendar and checked the date. "February 2012, exactly like I thought." He walked over to the newspaper he had procured while at the store and checked the date on it. 'Alright, February 2012. Ok, I'm not the one who's dim, that's for sure," he said to himself. Putting it out of his mind, he took a notebook and went outside to decide what he wanted his next project to be in order to bring the house back to its once beautiful self.
Deciding the most pressing piece of business was to cut back the plants that were over running the path that led down to the beach, he took a large pair of clippers and snipped his way through them until nothing was left to impede one's walk. The dog tagged along, sniffing at every plant several times until they reached open sand and then he stopped and cocked his head as if he were listening for someone or something. Noticing that the tide was receding, Killian walked down to the beach and stood on the hard, packed wet sand just above the water line, and as the waves lapped over his toes he looked up and down the coast wondering what could have been getting the dog's attention. The dog put his nose into the breeze, standing still, sniffing and then while continuing to sniff meandered along the beach, as if on the trail of something specific.
Staring off into the distance with his hands in his pockets, and the wind blowing his hair over his forehead, Killian allowed the melancholy feeling and the memories to wash over him. His father and mother watching he and his brother running in and out of the waves, he and his brother gathering shells and showing them to his mother, her exclaiming over everyone and choosing her favorite two or three to take in the house and put in a jar sitting on the table behind the sofa. Memories of nights making small fires on the beach and sitting around them, laughing with Liam. Eventually the memories of his mother becoming sad and times spent with her and his brother and his father never being around. Wondering as a child why things had to change. Why they couldn't stay the same. And remembering when he was a child wondering if he could have done anything differently, but now as an adult realizing that none of it was his fault.
His parents had split up when he was eight and Liam was sixteen and his mother took him back to England and Liam had stayed in the States with their father, the great Brennan Jones. And now, he thought to himself, we're all that's left. Sadness for his mother filled his soul as he thought over her last days. When she found out she was sick, she didn't want him to tell his father and brother but he had gone against her wishes and told them anyway. His brother, of course, had rushed to be with her at the end but not his father. At the time Liam had thought that it was work but Killian hadn't believed him. And now after having drinks with Liam, he finally knew the truth. His father had a heart procedure and had been in the hospital. Killian wondered why his father kept this to himself but he could understand why he might feel guilt. Especially in light of what he had discovered about his parents. However, since he couldn't ask his mum and he really didn't want to get his father upset, he needed to come up with a diplomatic way to discuss it with him. And sooner rather than later it seemed.
Whistling for the dog to follow him, he walked to the outdoor faucet to wash any sand off his feet. The faucet was old and rusted but he was able to finally get it to turn. Water sprayed everywhere but with a little ingenuity, he cleaned his feet and turned the water off, however, he did pull the paper out and make note of what he needed to purchase to repair the problem. Putting away the clippers, Killian, and his four-legged friend walked back into the house just as the last vestiges of light faded. The letter was sitting in the same place and after reading it over again, he decided it was a problem he would handle better in the light of day. Turning the lights out, he and his pet called it a night.
While they had never had a dog growing up, it turned out much easier than he thought it would. He and his friend settled into somewhat of a pattern with some days the dog staying at home in the beach house and other days the dog was at the door, ready to leave before Killian was. It was quite eerie really how astute the dog was with not only knowing his schedule but with knowing exactly which days it wouldn't be proper to take him to the office. It was a Friday in March, a day that for as long as the dog had been living with him, was typically a work day, but for some reason, today, the dog was not interested. Even calling to him a few times, his only response had been a slight lift of his head and then he had lowered it and gone back to sleep. Picking up his keys, Killian left without him.
He hadn't driven far when his phone rang with his brother's ring tone. Pushing the hand's free button, he answered, "Let me guess, you missed me?"
"Wanker, not sure why you think I'd miss you but we've been summoned. Tonight dinner with father."
Without giving it much thought Killian opened his mouth, "I believe I am rather busy tonight."
"Killian." Using just the right tone immediately set his guilt meter going but also made him think of their mum.
"I swear Liam, you sound exactly like mum when you said that. How did you manage that?"
Liam laughed, somewhat diabolically Killian thought, "Tis a gift. Now tonight. 7 at Shula's." And then just like that, he hung up.
"Bugger it" Killian responded to what ended up being dead air. "A summons for dinner, guess it's a good thing I don't have the dog," he muttered, "and there's no way to skive off now."
Work went well and it seemed like no time before it was time to leave for the restaurant. Traffic was heavy and it took a while to get there, so much so that when he arrived he went ahead and left the truck with the valet. Brushing his hair back off his forehead, he entered the building and had to admit that if the food tasted like it smelled than it was pukka. Liam was waiting for him looking quite fit in his dress wear, "Ready?" he asked, "Father's at the table," and he started walking.
Killian didn't have any options but to follow, "Ready for grub and a pint, mate," he answered.
"Keep your pecker up Killian," Liam shot back just as they walked by a table where several beautiful women were sitting, who stopped talking to watch the men walk by.
"I'm here Liam."
Liam stopped and turned back to him, "Yes you're here but for someone who is interested in making amends you're doing a piss poor job. Now stop being so sullen, and smile."
Killian knew Liam was right, even though it pained him to admit it. "Quit being a sod," he said to himself silently and stepped forward to greet Brennan.
Brennan held out his hand to Killian and they shook and all sat down at the table. Before they even had their napkins placed in their laps, the waiter was upon them taking their drink order. Killian and Liam ordered the same as their father, since he gave it a good recommendation, and each picked up their menu. Brennan made a few suggestions and when the waiter brought them a pint, he took their orders. Taking a sip, Killian looked around the room, and tried to think of something innocuous to say, "Dine here often, father?"
"It's served its purpose for a few meetings over the years. But enough about me, since my livelihood hasn't changed. Liam said you have a fleet of Swans. Please fill me in."
Conversation flowed easily from there with Killian talking about the ships, the types of tours they offered and they laughed about some of the funnier incidences that occurred over the past few months.
Brennan and Liam discussed different building projects their business was involved in but all stayed away from any topics which may have been considered controversial. Once dinner was over and the check was taken care of, the men parted company.
Killian waited for the valet to bring his truck around and after getting in noticed the letter from his mysterious Swan, sitting in the front seat. Reading it again;
Dear Mr. Jones,
I'm very familiar with the Gold Cottage but I never lived there. Call me old fashioned but I don't think a cottage should be over 5000 square feet. So, let me try this again. I used to live in the beach house. Then I moved. I now live at 200 Biscayne Blvd Way, Miami. I would appreciate it if you would forward my mail if you get any. Oh and by the way, the year is 2014, it has been all year. Ask anyone.
Emma Swan
He resolved to solve the problem and entering the address into his GPS, he hit go.
Emma
Emma had settled into her new job fairly easily, and while some days were really long, some days longer than others, she enjoyed all aspects of it that she had encountered so far. She saw a wide variety of cases in the ER and usually worked a few days a week with Ruby, who always knew all the gossip there was, and around a hospital, there was plenty. For her part, Emma tried to stay away from being a part of the gossip but she loved Ruby and gossip and Ruby came hand in hand.
This Friday the ER had been busy, not only with the usual Friday happenings but it was spring break in many parts of the country and as such, there were extra college students hanging out on South Beach. Their injuries or illnesses were usually minor but it made for extra traffic and the waiting room was full of half-dressed individuals and the place smelled like coconut.
Walking into exam room two, Emma expected to see another half-dressed spring breaker who had too much sun but instead was greeted by the biggest pair of red-rimmed brown eyes she had ever seen, on a head topped with dark curls, with a large bloody rag being held over his mouth. Emma smiled slowly at the little boy who looked about five or six, "Well hello handsome," she said to him, and then made eye contact with his father, who had a very concerned look on his face. "I'm Dr. Swan," and she picked up a pair of gloves to snap on, "What happened?"
"Good afternoon Dr., I'm Robin and this little guy is Roland. It seems he was playing football, I mean soccer and the ball and mouth made contact."
Picking up some gauze and dampening it, Emma leaned toward Roland, "May I?" His big brown eyes met her green ones and he must have seen something that he trusted as after a few seconds he nodded his head yes. Robin moved the rag he had been holding against Roland's mouth and Emma gently wiped the blood away from his lips, picking up more pieces of dampened gauze as needed. Seeing no obvious place for the blood to be coming from, she used her left hand to gently lift up his top lip and immediately seeing one noticeable reason for some of the blood smiled. Looking at Robin she said, "Looks like the impact dislodged his upper top two teeth. Were they loose?"
Robin smiled gently at his son, "Yes, both were just starting to get loose and he wiggled them constantly in hopes they would fall out."
Emma looked at Roland, "You got your wish, no more top teeth. Now let's see if there is any other reason for the blood." As she was examining the rest of the soft tissue on the insides of his lips, the door to the exam room burst open.
If possible Roland's eyes got even bigger and tears appeared once again and then Emma heard, "Robin, I just got your message, what happened?" and she looked over her shoulder to see none other than Regina Mills, the Chief Hospital Administrator of Bayside General, come rushing into the room.
Robin looked up and smiled crookedly at Regina, "I'm glad you got it, just a little problem with a ball meeting his mouth."
Regina walked around the table and put one hand on Robin's shoulder as she leaned her cheek against Roland's, "You ok?" She asked Robin quietly.
He picked up her hand and kissed it gently, "Better now."
Emma felt a bit like a voyeur at the evident closeness between the two, but quickly finished her examination of little Roland. "Good news is it looks like all the blood was caused from having both of his front teeth knocked out at the same time, plus there were some small cuts along the inside of his mouth. Those seemed to have stopped bleeding though so I don't believe stitches are necessary, but his mouth will probably be a little sore and swollen for a few days. Just have him swish with warm salt water to speed up the healing." Finishing her instructions, she removed her gloves and washed her hands, and noticed that Roland looked more upset than before. "Roland, what's up buddy?"
He looked at her with a frown on his face, "My teeth fell out and I swallowed them. What am I going to leave for the tooth fairy?"
The adults in the room all looked at each other and while she could tell that Robin really wanted to laugh by the twinkle in his eyes, he kept a sober face. Thinking fast, Emma smiled at Roland, "Well I think you probably aren't the first child who's swallowed their teeth, maybe your dad or mom, can help you write the tooth fairy a letter for under your pillow."
As she was talking his little face lit up, and he starting nodding his head yes, and looked over his shoulder at Regina, "Help me, mom?"
Emma had to blink back the tears watching such a sweet scene, as Regina swallowed several times trying to dislodge the lump in her throat, before answering him, "Definitely! Thank you, Dr. Swan."
Smiling at the family, Emma handed a small lollipop to Roland, "My pleasure," she responded before exiting the room to complete her shift. As she was finishing up that evening, the thought of driving down to the beach house, just because, entered her mind and couldn't be dislodged.
Killian
Arriving on Biscayne Bay Blvd, Killian started following the numbers looking for the right one. He found 240 but 200, was a construction site. Pulling into the construction site yard, he got out of his truck and looked at the letter again. "Yes, 200 Biscayne Bay Blvd. I'm in the right place but this makes no sense." He shut his door and walked around the corner of what was eventually going to be a rather large apartment complex. Attached to the side of the frame was a large sign advertising the building that read; OCEAN VIEW LUXURY APARTMENTS, Available Summer 2013. "Summer 2013," Killian read again. "That's a year plus from now. How can this be?" Shaking his head at how utterly confused he felt, he got back in the truck and drove home to the beach and his dog who had been stuck inside all day. Having decided to write Swan another letter, he set to work formulating it in his mind as he drove. Once he arrived home he sat down with some paper and wrote the letter, took it out to the postbox and closed it inside. There, he thought. I've taken care of that.
Emma
Early Saturday, Emma loaded Rumple and drove south hoping for some answer to the strange correspondence that she had been engaging in. Making good time, they arrived and as before, no cars were parked, nor were any lights on in the house. Prolonging the strange anticipation, she felt, she took Rumple for a nice walk on the beach, throwing sticks for him to chase and enjoying the music from the sea. After an hour, Rumple's tongue was hanging out and she couldn't stand the suspense any longer. Walking back to the car she kept telling herself that there wouldn't be anything there and so when she opened the mailbox to discover another letter, she was both pleased and a bit hesitant as this was 'weird' for lack of a better word. Herding the dog back into the bug, she read;
Dear Ms. Swan,
I drove by 200 Biscayne Bay Blvd and it's not there, it's just a construction site. From the pictures, it looks nice but not for another 18 months so. What am I missing here? Maybe you got the address wrong because I noticed that you got the date wrong too.
Killian Jones
Stranger still, she thought, as her apartment building was brand new, only being completed July 2013, when Mary Margaret had first moved into them. Thinking back to her mystery man's dates, something sat there on the edge of her memory that made that time significant. Resigning herself to get to the bottom of it, she drove back home to look through some photos from March 2012, to see if she could figure out what significant memory was sitting there just out of reach.
Arriving back at her apartment she took her laptop out onto the patio and pulled up her pictures folder. Scrolling through her pictures from March, two years previous, she found an album with some pictures of her, M&M and Leo at Disney World and a description of the trip. "That's it!" she told Rumple, "Well, mystery man if you are in the year 2012, be forewarned," and closing her computer got busy on an answer to her pen pal, and before thinking hopped back in the car for the ride to Key Largo.
Killian
Saturday donned bright and sunny and after a walk on the beach with the dog, Killian decided to get to work on the landscaping. When they had lived here before, his mother had been meticulous with having the trees groomed, but since then it had been haphazard at best. He'd thought about hiring someone to it done but liked the idea of working with his hands and bringing back the beauty of something his mum had planted. However, it was hot outside and the higher the sun rose, the more humid it became. He'd also noticed his dog friend, panting rather heavily, but the few times he'd tried to get the mutt to go in, he'd refused. So as the sun reached its zenith, he took a break inside where it was cool. On his way into the house, while the flag was still raised, he checked anyway to see if his letter had been taken. The dog watched him, cocking his head from one side to the other, then pranced up the walk to the door. "Ok, mate, I can take a hint."
Working indoors until late afternoon, Killian was able to accomplish some of the smaller, more monotonous tasks that he had been hesitant to start. Realizing that time was getting away from him, he went back out to work on the landscaping. As he walked out of the house, the dog ran past him toward the postbox barking. Killian then noticed that the flag on it was no longer up, but had been put down. Looking in the box, he also saw that it was empty and his dog, who needed a name, was sniffing the air and the ground around the box as if trying to get a trail of some unseen prey. "No one's here, uh, Spot, how would you like that name?" 'Spot' tilted his head to one side as if trying to decide, then growled, and moved off into the shade. "Ok, guess Spot doesn't work," Killian muttered, before picking up the cutting tool he had been using and got back to work.
It wasn't long before he had again worked up a sweat, and pulling his shirt over his head, wiped his face and then leaned up to wet his head with the garden hose. While bent over enjoying the coolness of the water, he heard the dog bark and looked up to see him run toward the postbox. Turning off the faucet and dropping the hose, he walked toward where the dog was barking just as the flag on the box went back up. "What the," and opening the box he pulled out a letter and a small package. Opening the letter, he caught a whiff of vanilla with some underlying sweet smell, and imagined that she had just put lotion on her hands as she put the letter in the envelope, unfolding it he read;
Ok, my mysterious correspondent, I get it, just in case you really are where and when you think you are, you'll need these. There was a severe thunderstorm that weekend and a freak lightning strike hit the main transformer that supplies power to the Upper Keys and you will be in the dark for three days. Stay dry.
Emma Swan
Thunderstorm, he thought looking up at the blue sky, she's obviously a loon. Curious about what was in the box, he opened it and found some candles and matches and a small card that read "For when the lights go out." Shaking his head at the situation, he put away his tools and went inside to make something to eat. While his soup was heating, he heard thunder and looking out the window could see lightening off in the distance. Thinking nothing of it, he finished preparing his meal, and sat down ready to eat just as another loud clap of thunder sounded, followed by a bright flash and pop and then the room plunged into darkness, "Bloody hell," he muttered as he lit one of the candles and using it reread the letter.
Thank you so much for reading. Now you know the secret. Killian and Emma are living in parallel times, two years apart. Stay tuned for Chapter 5 where they "meet' and being the journey of falling in love.