CourtShip
By Esme Incognito
Inspired by Stephenie Meyers' Twilight series. No infringement intended.
No Beta—mistakes are mine.
Posted 10/4/14
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
Huge thanks to Just4Me who has come aboard to join me on this journey as a pre-reader.
She and a few of you who left reviews suggested a family tree, to help keep all those Crazy Cullens straight! Hope this helps…
Cullen Family 2014 (aboard the cruise ship Eclipse)
Great Grandma Didi (Pops' mom)
Pops & Nanny (Afton & Renata)
Liam (48) & Siobhan – Emmett (13) & Rosalie (9)
Garrett (45) & Kate – Alec & Jane (6), Chelsea (8)
Esme (42) & Carlisle – Edward (23) & Alice (12)
Peter (36) & Charlotte – Stefan (7), Lucy (5), & Jasper (2)
~ ~ \-0-0-0-/ ~ ~
CHAPTER 4 - Aweigh
…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…
…
"Whoa!" I stopped in my tracks, startled to see the tall box that nearly filled the doorway, with my Uncle Jasper's blonde head peeking over the top. I grabbed the corners and helped guide it through. "THAT's a big box!"
He chuckled and set it down in the front hallway. "Thanks to this one and all her clothes, we have five more out in the truck." He nodded toward my cousin, who'd been holding the screen door open behind him. She rolled her eyes at him as Mom approached and pulled her into a hug.
"How you doing, kiddo?" he asked me, leaning an elbow casually on the top of the box as Mom and Christina chattered nearby. His voice was tender, realizing we'd been at an emotionally draining task all day. I shrugged, looking at the letters on the front of the box and tracing them with my finger—W-A-R-D-R-O-B-E—not wanting to think about it and risk the tears that would inevitably follow.
"Hey, Uncle Jasper," I said, changing the subject, "I just saw a picture of you when you were a baby and you were SO CUTE!"
"Oh, I want to see!" Christina, having overheard, gave a little bounce, excited to see what her dad looked like then.
He's not actually my uncle. Mom's an only child. I guess my grandma almost died having her and couldn't have any more kids after that, but there are a gazillion "cousins" in our family, so everybody's just Cousin This or Uncle That or whatever.
Anyway, Uncle Jasper is only about five years older than Mom and they're super close—like brother and sister. He used to come up here to Chicago every summer to stay with them after his family moved to Texas when he was eight or nine, so they kind of grew up together.
Grandpa was like a second father to him and Mom warned me that he was taking this all pretty hard. I thought the pictures might give him something to smile about. He's already had a really rough year. He just went through a nasty divorce after discovering that Aunt Maria (well, not "aunt" anymore) was cheating on him. The only good thing to come of it was that he and Christina moved back here. They'd only been here a few weeks when grandpa…
"Baby pictures, huh?" He looked intrigued.
But Mom wasn't having any slacking off. "You can show them later, Honey. Right now, you and Christina are in charge of getting all the clothes from the house into these boxes. Now, let's go get the rest of them."
Back in the master bedroom (the walk-in closet this time) it should have been a pretty quick job to load up their clothes—a lot faster than the books had been, anyway. The boxes had metal bars across the inside so you could transfer the hangers directly from the closet rods into them. They reminded me of the old steamer trunks from the movies.
It should have been quick, but we kept getting distracted.
"Hey, remember this?" Christina held a familiar emerald green dress against her chest and unfurled the skirt with her other hand. There's a picture on the mantle of Grandma in that dress with Uncle Jasper in his Ph.D. regalia years ago. She'd also worn it to my college ceremony a couple of years ago. And when she showed up wearing it to the high school graduation party they'd held for Christina and our other cousin, Paul last spring, we'd teased her about it being "the graduation dress."
We'd all laughed together and said that everyone in the family must have a picture like that: a cap and gown, and Grandma in the green dress! It did look very pretty on her…
Christina checked the tag. "Maybe I should save it and wear it when I graduate from college. Do you think she'd mind?" Her voice was joking but her eyes were not.
"I think she'd be honored, Chris."
We played fashion critic as we loaded her wardrobe into the boxes. Most of the clothes were cute and modern—the latest in septuagenarian fashion, thanks to Auntie Alice who's a professional stylist. But there was stuff tucked in the back corners that must have been decades old.
Some of the clothes were so dated or tacky that we just had to try them on. It was like playing dress-up when we were kids. The silliness started when Christina put on a gigantic, floppy sunhat and a big, gauzy scarf.
"Hey, do you remember when we used to put on these hats and Grandma would get dressed up, too, and have a tea party with us?" I nodded fondly and draped a long string of beads around my neck.
"Oh—and remember the time the dog started yanking on the belt of that big flowery dress you were wearing and pulled you away from the table?"
"Oh my gosh, he just wouldn't stop! I was in her big, sparkly high heels that were a million sizes too big, trying not to fall over…" We were laughing hysterically at this point.
"You were screaming and crying at that crazy dog—what was his name?"
"Quil."
"Quill! That's right! And Grandma and I were running around the yard, trying to catch him, and he just kept dragging you in that big, flowery dress." Tears were running down my face, I was laughing so hard as she flailed her arms around, mimicking what I had looked like.
"And then all it took was a whistle from Grandpa," I remembered. " My hero!"
We howled with laughter as memory after memory surfaced.
Mom heard us giggling, came in and saw how few clothes had actually made it into the boxes, and told us to stop goofing off.
"But Mom," I pleaded, fur hat atop my head, "how can we possibly part with this? This just demands some sort of acknowledgement." I joked, holding up one of Grandma's famous Christmas sweaters, adorned with a colorful and oh-so-tacky Christmas tree with lights that really lit up. I remembered how cool I thought that was when I was five or six—real lights! She grinned and shook her head, reaching for the hideous thing and hugging it to her chest.
"Keep what you want, girls, but pizza will arrive in 15 minutes and I want this room done, ok?" She walked off, keeping the sweater. "I had a matching child-sized one, you know," she quipped on her way out, dropping the stern demeanor, "and Daddy had a sweater vest."
It was a more somber job after that, as we realized that we were seeing these clothes, some of which still smelled like Grandma's perfume, for the last time.
As we worked, I told Christina about the journals I'd found. I was so excited to be learning their stories, hearing about their romance, and I tried to describe the feeling I'd had: How I'd wished that I'd been a little more mature about our age difference and made an attempt to get to know them better.
I must not have explained myself very well because she just didn't seem to get what I was saying, at all. Maybe it's because Christina's only 19. A year or two ago I wouldn't have cared, either.
Uncle Jasper peeked his head in to let us know that pizza had arrived for dinner and started snickering at our ridiculous get-ups.
"Oh, Uncle Jaz, you've got to see what I found!" I was dying to show him the pictures I'd seen of him as a baby, so I rushed out of the closet—hat, costume jewelry and all—toward the scrapbook with all the pictures in it. I lifted it to him just as Mom called out that the pizza was getting cold, so I grabbed both of the cruise journals and followed them toward the dining room.
Christina got a real kick out of the photos of her dad as a baby. As the three of them flipped through the pages, of Grandma's scrapbook, I eagerly opened Grandpa's journal to the page where I'd left off…
~ ~ \-0-0-0-/ ~ ~
His Journal
July 9, 2014 - Wednesday
I just attended the 50th wedding anniversary celebration for my wonderful grandparents, Afton and Renata Cullen. I asked Pops what the secret is to finding love that lasts like theirs and keeping it alive.
Here are a few pieces of his advice:
-Keep looking until you find the girl who makes your heart sing. Pops said he had been engaged to another girl when he met Nana and while he hated breaking the other girl's heart, he knew that Renata was the one to spend his life with.
-On getting married: Figure out the things about each other that you DON'T like and work out how you're going to live with those traits. Accept that those things will never change and figure out how to be happy in spite of them.
-Remind yourself and her every single day that she's adored and desired. The glow of new love will wear off, but remember what it felt like and keep a little piece of it shining every day. Tell her you love her, kiss her with passion, gaze in her eyes, notice things she does or things you find attractive and compliment her. Every. Day.
-Agree that quitting your marriage is not an option. Take the D word out of your vocabulary. Realize that there will be times—not days, not weeks, but YEARS—when things are hard and you don't like each
[Note in the margin with an arrow pointing to the abrupt ending: Sorry I didn't finish this, but I had a close encounter with that girl just as I was writing it down.]
July 9, 2014 – Wednesday (continued)
Damn it, Alice! That girl has the worst possible timing, I swear!
I was THIS CLOSE to finally meeting my brown eyed beauty when f-ing Alice had to come screeching at me, introducing me to a bunch of her silly little friends. Thank you, Alice, I did not need to meet a bunch of giggly 12 year old girls. Not when I had a gorgeous Berkeley co-ed sending me come-hither looks.
Oh my god, she f-ing noticed me. I couldn't believe it. She looked right at me and smiled. I'd been seeing her around the ship all day. It's funny how you keep noticing certain people: the really tall teenager with the lime green turban that matched his t-shirt; the Chinese albino guy; the lady in the burqua (in 100' heat); the old white-haired guy with crazy eyebrows that were about an inch long; and, of course, the beautiful brown-eyed Berkeley girl. She's the best.
I was headed upstairs for a run after breakfast this morning when I saw her the first time. What a way to start my day. I heard some girls talking in the stairwell about a friend who'd met a guy last night—first night on the ship. They were betting whether she'd slept with him or not—first night on the ship.
As I climbed up and they passed me on their way down from the gym, I saw that SHE was the one arguing against the hook up, saying that she knew the friend had better morals than that. I suppose that means she's got some morals herself, or at least that she's a loyal friend. It's also nice to know that she works out, even on vacation.
The ship has a running track, but it's tiny—10 laps to a mile. I had to change direction every so often to keep from getting dizzy. It felt good to exercise after all that food. Later, I played miniature golf with some of the cousins. They have a 9 hole course at the top of the ship. It was fun, but Jasper kept picking up our balls and bringing them back to us, his cute toddler waddle even more shaky on the moving floor of the ship. He's so cute.
After lunch, we held a mean Cullen card tournament out by one of the pools. I was killing the uncles until I got distracted by that girl again. She was getting out of the water: purple bikini… perfect curves… nipples. Yeah, my shorts got a little tight. Thank god we were sitting around the table, though the way I completely lost concentration on our game was a dead giveaway.
Uncle Garrett turned to see where I was looking. "Purple, or black?" he asked, which immediately made Carlisle and Peter look, too. Jeez, way to be obvious! To my horror, the three of them started trying to guess which girl I was checking out, and then Carlisle called Mom over to take my place in the game.
She went on and on about how everyone felt bad that I was the only one my age, and how I didn't have to feel obligated to hang out with the family all the time, and that I should go and make some friends my own age.
Friends… right. Carlisle was behind her, pushing in her chair when she said that, and he almost started laughing out loud.
While all this was transpiring, Berkeley girl managed to pack all her stuff up and tie a long scarf/dress thing over her tits, covering everything up, and leave. Great! She was halfway across the deck and headed for the stairs. What was I supposed to do, run after her? I don't even know her name.
So, I did a cannonball into the pool and splashed Emmett and Alice instead. It was juvenile, but sometimes it's fun to just goof around with them. Rosie started crying and Chelsea was pissed because I got their hair wet. Great.
Later tonight we got all dressed up for the big event of the cruise—Nanny and Pops' vow renewal and 50th anniversary celebration. It's the reason we're all here on this cruise. They're the whole reason any of us are here, period.
Wow, 50 years together. I can't even imagine it. Pops was a year younger than I am when they got married, and a year after that Nanny was pregnant with Uncle Liam. How does that happen? How do you find someone to spend your whole life with? How do you know it's right? How do you make it work for 50 years? Or even one?
I asked Pops about it during dinner and we had a good, long talk. He's so in love with her, still, and he shared some of his secrets for making love last.
Of course, I need to find someone to fall in love with first, and his advice on that wasn't very helpful—the same thing you always hear: "you'll just know." I'm so f-ing sick of hearing that. I don't know, maybe I'm too quiet or too focused on school or just too cynical to meet the right girl, but it just doesn't seem to be happening for me. Anyway, assuming I ever find "the one," his advice for keeping her happy was pretty great.
When all the olds and the youngs headed back to their rooms for bed, I dashed across the hall to the first relatively quiet place I could find—the piano bar—to write down everything he'd said before I could forget.
And that's when I saw her again. She smiled at me… I followed her… And then my stupid, annoying sister ruined it! Fuck!
Maybe I'll find her tomorrow…
~ ~ \-0-0-0-/ ~ ~
Marie
It made me squirm a little to read his desirous thoughts while I was sitting there with Mom, and Uncle Jasper, and Christina nearby. I'm sure I was blushing!
Then I thought about my own grandparents' 50th anniversary a few years ago, when they went on a cruise… to Mexico. Oh my gosh. I had no idea how significant that was for them. Why in the world didn't I know any of this? They'd wanted the whole family to go—all the aunties and uncles and cousins—but it was right when the economy was a mess and nobody had any money so they just ended up going with Great-grandpa Carlisle and Auntie Alice and they a big party here for everyone else.
I remembered talking to Grandma at the party and my heart sunk. She'd been so excited about going and wished Mom, Dad, and I could go, too. She'd been saying something about how 'magical things can happen on cruises' when Christina had bounced over and grabbed my arm.
"I gotta feeling... That tonight's gonna be a good night..." she'd sung. "Come on Marie! Grams, I have to steal her for this song. I'll bring her back, I promise!"
I tried to stop the tears in my eyes from spilling over. There had been so many tears already these past several days.
I glanced over at Uncle Jasper, slice of pizza in his hand, laughing with Mom at the photos they saw. It was a moment of levity that was pretty rare this last week and I didn't want to spoil it. It's really hard to imagine that this 50-something man who wore all the cares in the world on his tired face was the same little guy who'd toddled around the miniature golf course, picking up people's colorful golf balls.
Christina and Uncle Jasper left after dinner. He had just started his new job here and had to work first thing in the morning, so he used his tape gun (which is a pretty cool contraption) to seal decades worth of fashion choices into the wardrobe boxes, and, exhausted after a long, emotionally draining day, decided to head home to get some rest.
Mom and I stayed a little longer so we could finish the rooms we'd been working on. I finished the master bedroom pretty quickly and I should have offered to help her finish up in the office, but the books were calling to me. I probably wouldn't be much help, anyway, because she was going through all the files and paperwork pretty carefully.
I opened Grandma's scrapbook to read another chapter…
A/N
Do you have any clothes that remind you of a certain person, place, or event?
Please leave a review. I'd love to hear what you think.
Jen
Cullen Family Cruisers – 2014:
Great Grandma Didi (Pops' mom)
Pops & Nanny (Afton & Renata)
Liam (48) & Siobhan – Emmett (13) & Rosalie (9)
Garrett (45) & Kate – Alec & Jane (6), Chelsea (8)
Esme (42) & Carlisle – Edward (23) & Alice (12)
Peter (36) & Charlotte – Stefan (7), Lucy (5), & Jasper (2)
