Chapter Nine

Conversations With A Buccaneer

I recently changed the title of this book to "A New Beginning." I thought it fit a little better. And I don't own Ben and Jerrys. If I did...I would be happy...very happy...

As Kate put a few homemade chicken legs and mashed potatoes onto Will's plate for dinner, she realized how out of place Will looked. He looked confused and sort of unhappy – understandable if you saw your fiancée kiss another man, no matter what the reasons were.

She set down a plate in front of him and set out a full set of silverware for him, although Kate planned to eat like she usually did, with only a fork for the mashed potatoes and the chicken legs with her hands.

"I see women still cook," Will said, trying to make conversation.

Yes, she filled that feminine cliche. And she could cook a great meal, too. But she had to snap Will out of his old-fashioned ways. "Yes, but men cook, too. My dad's a great cook."

"But do a lot of women still cook?" he asked.

"I suppose," she said.

There was a silence between them for a few minutes. Will seemed to like the potatoes and chicken.

"Won't your fiancé be angry at us?" Will asked.

"What?" Kate asked, taking a drink of water.

"Won't he be angry at us for me being here? Surely he'll throw me out...I just hope you don't get in any form of trouble with him. I hope he's not a military man...You seem like the sort of person that would be engaged to a man like Commodore Norrington." He shook his head. "The commodore was...never mind..."

"I'm not engaged," Kate said. "Why do you think that I am?"

"Well, you're a young lady...rich, beautiful...why wouldn't you be?"

"Because times have changed. Women don't get married until their mid to late twenties, sometimes later. Some never get married at all. And even then it's free will, not arranged by two sets of parents to find an heir for an only child or what they think is advantageous. Everyone marries for love now."

Will looked down. She felt bad for confusing him, but she told herself that she was looking out for a man she had met ten hours ago. If he was ever going to learn the ways of modern day, though, she was going to have to coach him along.

"That's good," he said. "It's good that a person can be happy with what they have now..."

Jack looked at the (what was it that Melissa referred to this as? Oh, right!) pizza that Melissa had baked for the both of them. The bottom was black and smelled kind of burnt, but the top looked fine. He cautiously took a bite.

He was right. The bottom was burnt. And he waited too long for the steam to stop coming out of the pizza. Now it was cold.

He spit out back onto the plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He looked up to see Melissa's big blue eyes looking kind of sad. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Isn't it good?"

"Eh...no, love, it's fine," he lied. "I just thought that rum would be better."

"For dinner?" she asked, watching him get up from the dining room and walking to the refrigerator.

"Aye," he said.

"It's not going to fill you up," she said. "And besides, we don't have any."

"This where ye keep ye're drinks?" he asked, opening the refrigerator.

"Yes, but–"

He held up a can of beer. "Is this rum in a different form?"

"Jack, my dad would not approve of you drinking."

"Wonder why he keeps it in the house, then," he grinned. He then stared at it, frowning. "Don't have those cork things on it..."

"Then I suppose you can't drink it," she said, thankful that she could avoid a drunk Jack Sparrow. Although, he did act sort of drunk even when he hadn't had a drink in hours, how he was so confident in what he said and the way he swaggered around...Or was that just his nature?

He lifted it up and examined the bottom of it, just to see if it could open from the bottom, probably. Then he looked at the top and saw the tab.

"Please open it for me, love?" Jack pleaded.

"You have no idea how much trouble I would get if my dad saw one of his beers were gone. He'd think that I'd gotten drunk over the week!"

"And there is no shame in that," he pointed out. "I just need some alcohol, and then I won't bother you the rest o' the day. Unless you want me to and we can have a nice li'l chat 'bout life and how to avoid one's demise and/or betrayal. Your choice. You don't seem to take a likin' towards me, so if I was you in those short pants o' your's, I would open this for me and let me go on me merry way. Savvy?"

A confused Melissa nodded and opened it for him. "Savvy."

Had she just said "savvy"? That was Jack's word! But he actually didn't seem to mind that she had just used said word that belonged to him.

"Thanks, love," he said, heading for the stairs. "I'll just be listenin' to those annoyin' songs downstairs by meself."

Something in her made her call out his name. He turned around, can in his hand, one hand on the black railing.

"Why don't you come talk to me?" Melissa said. "Better for two loners to be together than by themselves."

"But than loners wouldn't be loners if they were together, now would they?" he asked, walking back towards the kitchen table.

"Sure," she said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "But let's not talk about betrayal and demise."

"So," he said, taking a seat across from her. "We'll talk about how bad of a cook you are, instead?"

Melissa gaped at Jack. "I am not a bad cook!"

"You're not what a lass is s'pposed to be with cookin' But I'm guessin' that you make it up in other areas of the house?" he grinned, displaying a few gold teeth.

"That's a little lewd," she said. "Do you make comments like this all the time?"

He shrugged. "Only when–"

"I don't need to know," she said, holding a hand up. "I'll have you know that I don't do that. I'm waiting."

"For what? 'Til night? Looks like we still have a few hours left. How do you wanna kill the time?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, until I'm married. I know the number of a very single and attractive girl, though, who you would probably love."

He leaned forward, letting herself look into his kohl-rimmed brown eyes. "Love, let me make one thing perfectly clear. When I want somethin', I get it. That's how it got me to be the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish main. Just know that not many women can resist Jack Sparrow. And you look like you wouldn't be an exception."

Melissa looked outside at the sky. Her heart started speeding up. Why was it now so hard to meet his eyes? Why did she feel funny all of a sudden? She just wanted to know what was going on with her!

After Kate had changed into pajamas for the night, she pulled out a book and sat on the couch. She had been reading a few minutes until she realized that Will was in her house and was nowhere to be seen. Wasn't he just out here in the living room with her before she went and changed?

She put a bookmark in her book and went to his bedroom to see if he was in there, but there was no sign of him. Kate looked in the kitchen and saw him sitting at the kitchen table with a sharp butcher's knife, poking his index finger against it.

"Will, what are doing?" she asked, standing by the doorway of the kitchen.

"I'm just making sure that I can feel," he said, continuing to poke his finger with the knife. "And I can't really." He pulled up his sleeve and paused, almost as if where exactly he could make sure he could still feel the most.

Kate slowly walked towards him. "Why would you hurt yourself?"

"I made the worst mistake in my life. I fell in love and lost the one thing that mattered to me. And to Jack, of all people!"

She gently placed a hand on his. He slowly released the knife. She took it into her hands and sat across from him. "This is all about Elizabeth?"

"Yes," he said. "I guess I learned what betrayal is."

Kate looked at the knife and saw her reflection in it. Never after a break-up, even the roughest ones, would she turn to a blade – or pills or the bottle – for relief. Too much Ben and Jerry's, yes. But never injuring herself.

"Why don't you go to bed, Will?" she suggested. "You're tired and thinking too rash."

"I've been thinking about it all day, how can it be rash?"

Kate ran a hand through her hair and stood up. "You should go to sleep. Really."

He nodded and stood up. "Is it the same bedroom that I changed clothes in this morning?"

"Yes," she said.

He nodded again. "Goodnight, Miss Sims," he said.

"Goodnight, Will."

And that was it. No thank your for preventing himself from making a mistake or much of a conversation. Just a blank, emotionless Will Turner.

Kate's Blog Entry

I know what I'm going to do to make Will feel better! I just have to start working on it now if I'm going to complete before midnight...What am I doing writing a useless blog entry that no one but me will read? I have to work!

XOXO

Kate

Melissa's Blog Entry

I don't know...when Jack talked to me tonight, I had this really weird, funny feeling in me...And I couldn't really look at him without getting butterflies and wondering what he meant by that...I mean, what we talked about tonight. Does he really want to...Why am I thinking about this even? I don't want to be in a relationship right now, so this is the last thing that should come across my mind...but why do I keep thinking about Jack?

Love,

Melissa Rose