CourtShip

By Esme Incognito

Inspired by Stephenie Meyers' Twilight series. No infringement intended.

Posted 8/16/14


Story Summary

In cleaning out a house, sorting through a lifetime of memories and possessions, she happens upon the journals, his and her stories of how it all began: a 50th anniversary, a graduation trip, a cruise that set them on a new course. AH 20-something Bella & Edward. A little angst, but mostly fluffy, romantic fun.


A/N

No Beta - The mistakes are all mine


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CHAPTER 3-Embark

I heard the telltale creak in the hallway just outside the door to the guest bathroom.

I slammed the journal shut, not wanting to get caught reading on the job when we had so much to do…

Since the bookshelves were cleared, their contents sorted and boxed with big black letters designating their fate, I grabbed an empty box and threw open the nearest drawer, hoping to appear busy as Mom entered the room.

OH, GROSS!

I slammed it shut just as quickly. Thankfully, Mom hurried straight past me, phone to her ear talking about finding an outfit, headed straight for the walk-in closet.

I was traumatized by the contents of the drawer, but also curious in a masochistic kind of way. It was kind of like picking at a scab: You know it's sure to bleed and maybe scar, but you just can't help yourself.

I should have known. It was the bedside table, but EWWW, no one wants to see their grandparents' sex toys. I didn't think grandparents even had sex, much less… BLECH!

Morbid curiosity won out and after looking toward the closet and confirming that Mom was yakking away, sliding hangers left and right, completely focused on her task, I slid the drawer open again. I slowly peered inside and cringed at the assortment there.

I didn't even recognize what some of the things were and shuddered to think of who had used them—and why. I gingerly lifted the items one by one, and dropped them into the trash, using a couple of tissues to protect my fingers from anything too disgusting, just like those little wax paper squares you use to lift donuts out of the case at the supermarket.

As I disposed of their dirty little secrets , scuttled their sex life, I realized how very little I actually knew about them. They'd always just… been there, kind of in the background. I loved them, of course, and I learned a lot from them, but…

Thinking back, I realized that each of them had offered me very good advice—some of the best, really, when I chose to listen. But I'd never truly talked to either of my grandparents the way I'd talk to a good friend or confidante. I'd never made that change in perspective that allowed me to see them or talk to them as fellow adults instead of as old people, completely unrelated to my life except by blood.

They were just Grandma and Grandpa, the lovey-dovey grandparents who embarrassed me by kissing and flirting with each other in front of my friends –something no one else's grandparents (or even parents) did. They embarrassed me and I had distanced myself. What a shame.

I sat on the bed, slipping a silk scarf from the drawer through my fingers, and looked over at the journals that rested on its foot, filled with regret. I'd never realized that life could change so quickly, be taken away so unexpectedly. Now, things would never be the same. I'd never have the chance.

I tucked the scarf and a few relatively innocuous items—a book on the kama sutra, a small, unopened bottle of massage oil, a pair of handcuffs that made me blush—into my box of keepsakes in hopes of finding someone special to use them with someday. I'd certainly never be brave enough to buy things like that for myself, so why not?

"Marie?" Mom interrupted my melancholy. "Grab the phone, will you?" She was reaching for a box high on the closet shelf while balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder. "Ask her if it's in the pink box or…"

I spoke into the phone, not sure who'd reply.

"Yes. Tell her it's in the pink box with the stripes," said the voice in the phone. "That's where it should be, anyway." It was my Great Aunt Alice. "How are you holding up, kiddo?" I shrugged, holding back a fresh round of tears that prickled in my nose.

The sniffles she heard were enough of an answer. "Well, I'm headed out there tomorrow to help you guys. Your mom's just trying to find something for Bella, for the funeral. Can you help her pick a nice outfit?"

"Ok," I whispered. I took a deep breath to compose myself and changed the subject to something not so depressing. "Auntie Alice, what does 'WTF' mean?"

"What?!" She was shocked.

I understood once she explained that there was a time when she was young that people used a lot of vulgar language, got tattoos and piercings—even normal people—and did lots of crazy things. She told me about something called texting and explained that several acronyms were developed back then so that common phrases could be typed in quickly.

I gasped when she told me what those particular letters stood for. Grandpa said THAT?!

Auntie Alice laughed at my reaction—she has the cutest little giggle, for an old person.

When that thought crossed my mind, I realized that it was the same attitude I'd been regretting just a few moments before—the one that had kept me at an arm's distance from getting to know my grandparents better—so I kept on talking to her, asking about that time when she was my age and the world was a little different.

Between that conversation and reading my grandparents' old journals, I realized more and more that even though times have changed, people are very much the same. I was eager to get back to their writing, to learn more about them and get to know them better.

Mom reached for the phone, having retrieved the box off the shelf and now in need of Alice's expert opinion, so I said goodbye and returned to the bedroom to finish emptying out the night stands.

I gave the first one a good spray with Lysol—yuck! The second one was, thankfully, filled with innocuous items: tissues, lip balm, a pair of reading glasses… and one special thing: another leather bound, black journal, just like all the rest that had lined the shelf, and like the one from the cruise that sat, calling to me.

I flipped open this most recent journal, pulled the red satin ribbon, and turned to the last entry—his final day. It was mundane, ordinary, filled with the kind of busywork a retired overachiever must need to create for himself in order to feel alive and not go crazy with uselessness. He'd gone down to the university and led a session with the group of medical students he mentors, had lunch with someone I've never heard of—must be one of his friends—checked in at "Mom's Place," which confused me because I know that all my great grandparents are gone, and came home and helped Grandma clean the attic.

Ironically, he had balked at the idea of labeling their more valuable items with the names of whomever should inherit them someday… not knowing that 'someday' would hit the very next morning at breakfast, for him, anyway. Oh, my gosh

His final words brought tears to my eyes and made me reach for one of the unused tissues from his night stand.

"…But I just kept my mouth shut, processed the labels, and affixed them to the furniture and artwork and miscellany that she dictated. It hasn't taken me 61 years to learn that I'd do anything my beautiful brown eyed girl asks of me. Hell, from the moment I met her and tried to fix that ridiculous mirror ball cup, she's owned me—heart and soul. And she always will."

I hugged the book to my chest, wanting more, though I knew these words were his last.

Mom passed by just then, a royal blue St. John suit draped over her arm, her hands filled with shoes and accessories. She sat on the bed next to me and I held the book out for her to read.

"He never missed a night that I know of," she mused, glancing toward the shelf I'd emptied of his journals with sadness in her eyes. She sniffed away her tears and forced a watery smile.

"They met on a cruise ship, you know—70s night," she laughed. "He tapped her on the shoulder and she was so surprised she dropped her drink that was in a cup shaped like a disco ball. You probably saw it. It was always right up there." She pointed to another empty shelf and I suddenly remembered what she was talking about. The gaudy plastic thing had seemed so out of place among the more tasteful treasures interspersed with all the books. I never would have guessed it was one of the most important mementos of all.

"Gosh, he loved her so much."

I got up, plucked the shiny sphere from one of the garage sale boxes and offered it to her, seeing my brown eyes—so like her eyes, I've always been told—reflected a hundred times in the mirrored facets. I held it out to Mom, but she just stood, gathering Grandma's clothes, and shook her head gently. "It holds their memories, honey, not mine." She kissed me on the head and left the room, on to the next painful task.

Curious, I leaned over and reached for the journals from the cruise, wondering if they'd reveal the story in any more detail...

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Her Scrapbook

July 9 – Day at Sea

Last night was so much fun! First of all, I've always heard that cruise food was plentiful and delicious, and it IS. Dinner was unbelievable. It was hard to choose between the five different entrees. Great food, Great conversation. Great time.

Afterwards, we wandered around the ship and found a karaoke bar. We spent some time there, laughing and talking. We even sang a song together: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper. Cliché, I know, but it's karaoke! I'm sure we were awful. People cheered and clapped anyway and we had a great time.

We met these three guys from LA who had just graduated from USC—Mike, Tyler, and Connor. They were pretty nice, in a flirty, frat-boy kind of way. Jessica took a shine to one of them, so we went with them to the dance club for a couple of hours. She was getting pretty cozy with Mike, and when the three of us got back to our room around 1:00 am, she brushed her teeth, fixed her hair, and then left to meet him again. !

Angela and I worried that we should have stopped her, but Jess was determined to go. She was in her bed this morning, thank god, but she was completely zonked out so we left her there and went to breakfast. They seated us with a bunch of other people and it was kind of nice to meet some folks we wouldn't normally talk to.

There was a lady named Jen at our table with her husband and two little kids. She was probably 40 or so and asked us about school and what we planned to do afterwards. She was really nice, but kept getting distracted by her children, so it was hard to hold a conversation with her.

I asked Ang if she'd heard the person getting sick in the room next door last night. That was so disgusting! I made her promise to not let Jess talk me into getting that drunk on this trip. Ugh!

Jen laughed and made Ang promise to make sure I had at least some fun on the cruise. Jeez, what's with all these people? Do I really seem that uptight? So what if my idea of fun is curling up with a good book instead of going out and partying all the time?

Jen leaned over, put her hand on my arm, and said only to me that I reminded her a lot of her younger self and that she wished she'd allowed herself to have a little more fun instead of taking things so seriously, playing things so safe, always being the good girl.

Ok. Whatever!

They have a really nice gym on the ship, so Angela and I went up and used the ellipticals for awhile. Gotta work off at least a few of the calories I've been ingesting!

We were headed back down to shower and change, talking about Jessica and what she may have been doing with Mike last night, when (of course) we passed that cute guy on his way up. Great! Now he's seen me looking all sweaty and gross, heard me gossiping, and thinks that one of my best friends may be kind of a slut. Nice!

We picked Jessica up in the room, had lunch, and headed over to a movie trivia quiz they were having. I only got 6 right, but Jess got 10, and Angela was on a roll—she tied with some guy, getting 22 out of 25 questions. They had a face off, but it was too close to call, so they EACH earned one of the coveted "24 carat gold painted plastic pieces of ship… on stick" trophies. Ha!

The guy, Ben, is really nice. He and Ang got to talking about movies and they really seemed to like each other, so Jessica and I left them to go hang out at the pool. We mostly lay in the sun, but went in the water periodically to cool off. I couldn't stay out there for too long or I'd burn, so I left Jess by the pool and went to explore the ship.

I found my happy place! They have a LIBRARY! It's a tiny little room and the book cases are locked up for all but a few hours of the day—the selection's not that great, anyway. But there are books, and comfortable couches, and peace and quiet—no other people at all. It was so relaxing to sit there and read for awhile. Sigh.

Tonight we got dressed up for the "elegant dinner" and had pictures taken afterwards. Guess who I saw waiting with his whole family? That cute guy, of course. And he looks fantastic in a suit. I thought he was attractive before, but… wow! Completely Hot!

His whole huge family posed on a stairway for a group photo. They were laughing and having a great time, even before the photographer told them to do a "crazy" shot. They seem like really fun people. Cute Guy is lucky to have a family like that. They all are.

Jess and Ang and I took our turns posing in front of a really beautiful backdrop and when I had a chance to look again, they were taking a picture of just him with all the kids. He had that toddler in his arms again and was so great with all of them. I wonder if that was a picture of all the cousins, or what? He seems a lot older than the rest of them. I wonder what the story is…

OMG, why am obsessing about this family, this guy? I really should put them out of my mind, but I keep seeing him. I mean, them!

I tried. I really did, but believe it or not, I saw him AGAIN tonight. The girls and I were at the piano bar. We got up to leave, and I saw Cute Guy sitting alone by the door, writing in a book with the most serene, wistful look on his face. He's really beautiful and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His book looked like a sketchbook or something. I wonder if he's an artist?

As we passed him on our way out, he looked up, almost as if he could sense me watching. I smiled at him and he returned it with the sexiest little crooked smirk. My heart started beating faster and I could feel my face heat up.

In a very bold move for me, I kind of cocked my head towards the door, sort of inviting him to come out and talk to me. His eyes widened and he started to close his book when Jessica grabbed my hand and yanked me out quickly, oblivious to my flirting in her quest to follow Mike. Huh—so much for her #1 priority, right?

We were about 30 feet down the hallway when I turned and saw that he had followed us out and was taking big strides to catch us. I couldn't stop the grin from growing on my face. But then the shrieking girl from yesterday approached from the other direction with some of her friends. She spotted him and yelled out "Edward!" hurrying past my group to stop him and start talking to him about something.

Damn! I turned to look at him again—at least I know his name now—and he kind of shrugged and frowned. I shook my head with regret and then he flashed me that sexy smirk again and he winked.

I smiled, waved my fingertips, and turned back to my friends.

Maybe tomorrow…

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There were several pages of photographs—his and hers, both from the looks of it—interspersed with her journal entries. And they were the perfect illustrations to the text I'd read. They truly brought her words to life.

I turned to a spread that had two 8x10 formal portraits facing each other and I could almost see it happening… The lovely girl with the long brown hair, all dressed to the nines with her girlfriends, peering from where they posed on a white velvet chaise lounge in front of a beautiful garden backdrop across the lobby to a scene set up for larger group photos, this one on a winding stairway with an ornately carved banister.

The family in the other photo was large and lively, talking and laughing amongst themselves as the photographer kept repositioning them, prompting children to look this way and smile, hoping that no one's eyes were closed as the shutter clicked.

Her eyes sought out one man in particular, midway up on the right side. The camera caught him with a devious look in his eye and the spiky-haired girl in front of him looked to be laughing out loud. Had he said something silly or poked her in the ribs, revealing his lighthearted nature to the girl observing him /looking on from the facing page?

I smiled at the thought, grateful to have the words behind the stories hinted at in the photos.

I flipped through more pages of pictures. There were several snapshots of my grandmother and her friends by the pool and one that must have been her friend Angela with a cruise employee and a guy (Ben, I presume) proudly holding little plastic ship-shaped trophies.

His snapshots included all the smaller family units that made up the Cullen clan, posing with what must have been the anniversary couple. Were those my great-great-grandparents? Wow.

I stopped to look more closely at the portrait labeled "Cullen Cousins" and to match the names and ages listed below it with the children pictured.

Wow!

Edward, 23, was the oldest cousin in the bunch. The next in age was a full decade younger: Emmett, it said, 13. I don't know him. Hmm. There were a bunch of other cousins, most of whose names I knew or at least recognized: Rosie and Chelsea, the twins Alec and Jane, Stefan, Lucy, and there was Alice. I took in a breath of surprise to see my Auntie Alice as a 12 year old girl. She was adorable and her effervescent personality was captured even on these flat, old-fashioned photographs. Finally, the toddler in Edward's arms was listed as 15 month-old…

"Yoo Hoo, anybody home?"

I jumped to my feet, left the book on the bed and rushed to greet them at the front door…


A/N

Whom do you suppose is at the door?

Have you ever learned something about your parents or grandparents when they were young that surprised you?

A huge thanks this week to Tarbecca for including CourtShip in the weekly Fic Dive on A Different Forest net and welcome to the new readers.

Please review. The last chapter only got 8. That's not enough, at ALL!