CourtShip
By Esme Incognito
Inspired by Stephenie Meyers' Twilight series. No infringement intended.
Posted 11/7/14
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.
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CHAPTER 5 – Cast Off
I opened her scrapbook to read another chapter…
…
I had barely settled in to read when Mom appeared in the doorway. "Ready to go?" she asked, running a hand over her disheveled hair, trying in vain to smooth the wispy tendrils back into the elastic that had contained them earlier in the day.
I jumped. My immediate reaction was to slam the scrapbook shut and hide it under the pillow next to me, but I was too late. Caught. Guilty of reading instead of working…
Mom chuckled tiredly from the doorway, where she leaned against the frame. "It's ok, Honey. You've been working hard." She sat on the bed next to me, toed her shoes off, and stretched her feet out in front of her with a sigh. She picked up the leather bound journal I'd laid aside and ran her fingers over the golden letters on the cover.
"He wrote in these every night," she remembered, wistfully. "I used to climb into bed right here between them whenever I couldn't sleep. Mom would read me a story or talk to me about my day and Dad would stop just long enough to kiss the top of my head and tap the end of my nose with the back of his pen. Then he went right back to writing until he was done and I could climb into his lap for a hug."
She opened the book and thumbed through the pages, stopping somewhere near the middle. Whatever she read there made her smile around the tears that had started to form. "It's a beautiful story, isn't it?"
My eyes widened slightly as I looked at her. "You've read these?"
"Of course," she nodded and looked at me as she scooched back to lean more comfortably against the headboard. She adjusted one of the pillows behind her. "One year I brought my boyfriend home from college to meet them, so your grandma took me aside when the guys were watching football and…"
"Was it Dad?" I interrupted.
"No. It was someone else."
That was a hard concept to fathom.
"Grandma brought me in here and dug around in the closet for awhile. And then she gave me these books you've been reading. She said she was so happy I'd fallen in love that she wanted to share her own love story with me." She shook her head with a chuff and explained that Grandma knew exactly what she was doing.
Huh?
"I thought he was so he was so perfect—Jacob was his name—but reading Mom and Dad's story made me realize that something wasn't quite right about us." She ran her hand over the cover of the book, tenderly. "He and I only made it halfway through the next semester," she chuckled. "We broke up and then I graduated and started working, and… a few years later I met your dad." A small smile crossed her face, and her eyes were distant for a moment, lost in a memory that gave her glow strong enough to overpower the tired, grey mask of sadness she'd worn all day.
"They were so in love…" she murmured, gazing at one of the photos in the book I held.
I leaned my head on Mom's shoulder and sighed, nodding in agreement.
I told her that I hadn't really gotten that far yet—I still hadn't even reached the part where they'd actually met—but from the descriptions of their very first sightings of each other, I was hooked. It was so romantic.
I explained that I'd been switching back and forth between the two books so I could keep the story in chronological order. That slowed me down, but provided a really fascinating side-by-side, his-and-hers description of what they were thinking.
Mom laughed and told me I was just like Grandpa—so meticulous! He'd always been careful to record every little detail in his perfect block printing. I smiled and nodded, knowing that handwriting well.
"So, where did you leave off?"
I read aloud…
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Her Scrapbook
Day 3: Cabo San Lucas
I woke up this morning to the engines churning, the ship rocking, and a beautiful view of the rocky outcroppings along the shore of Cabo San Lucas from our window. (We have a nice big rectangular window with a very deep sill—much better than the little porthole I'd expected. We've been keeping our menagerie of towel animals there. We find a new critter from our room steward each night & they're way too cute to unfold!)
Today we decided to try having breakfast at the buffet, hoping it would be faster than the restaurant, and it was fantastic. You could choose anything you'd ever want for breakfast. They even had people there cooking omelets to order. Yum!
The ship was too big to dock along the shore, so we took a smaller boat called a tender over to the pier. My dad was really worried about the crime rate in Mexico and had made us promise to travel in groups, so the girls and I decided to go on one of the excursions offered by Twilight Cruise Line: Swim With the Dolphins.
We went to an aquarium where they split us into small groups and gave us some training. Then each person got to do a trick in the water with a dolphin. It was so cool! I did a thing where you hold on in front of their dorsal fins and they pull you around the perimeter of the pool. They can swim really fast! And their skin feels like rubber. Jessica and Angela did a trick together, each holding one end of a pole above their heads while a dolphin jumped over. I got a great picture of it.
Afterwards, we had lunch and did some shopping. The street vendors were very persistent. I ended up buying a bracelet that I didn't really want. I only wanted to look at it, but once I made the mistake of picking it up, he wouldn't take it back. Seven dollars later, I am the not-so-proud owner of a silver bracelet, and am learning not to be quite so nice when I say "no."
I'm glad Jessica was with us. If she hadn't been there to help, I probably would have come back to the boat with my hair in little braids like all the five year old girls. Persistent, I tell ya!
More later. We're headed out to dinner and a show and whatever else the evening may bring. Ben's going to meet us for the show. I think Angela really likes him. Can't wait to see what happens with that!
.
.
.
Oh my god, I'm floating, soaring. Edward…
The girls and I went to a show in the theater tonight. It was a big production with singing and dancing, elaborate costumes and sets. It was kind of cheesy and overdone, but we had a lot of fun. Each of us got a drink in a souvenir cup that looks like an 8" disco ball. Hee hee. Cheesy fun was the theme for tonight, through and through.
When we left, we got separated in the crowd. As the two aisles converged into one near the doors, I felt a hand on my shoulder, right where I'd gotten sunburned during the dolphin thing. I yelped in pain and pulled away just as I heard a masculine voice saying, "hi."
In my surprise, I dropped the disco ball, spilling my drink all over the floor, and almost got trampled when I bent down to pick it up. Whoever it was swooped down and grabbed the ball with one hand and pulled me up by the arm with his other hand, nudging me out of the crowd and into the nearest row of empty seats.
He took a step back from me and raised his hands in surrender just as I turned to see who it was, both of us saying, "sorry" at the same time.
Oh my god, it was the cute guy, and he looked so concerned. I was completely embarrassed for being such a spaz.
He apologized profusely, saying he never should have touched me and pinching the bridge of his nose. I thought it odd that he was so contrite, but I suppose it's better to be too polite than not polite enough, right? I touched his arm to pull his hand away from his face and felt warmth rush to my fingers. I could feel every little hair on his arm.
He seemed relieved as I explained about my sunburn, and then he apologized for that. The guy was so nervous, I felt bad for him. I set my broken disco ball cup down, put my hands on his biceps (nice!), and asked him to relax as I backed him onto the love seat behind him.
He leaned back in his seat, buried his hands in his hair, and said, "That went so much differently than I had planned."
I laughed a little and joked that maybe he'd planned for the tiny loud girl to somehow get between us. He rolled his eyes and complained about his sister and her keen ability to know just when to interfere.
He tried to apologize again and when I stopped him, he offered to replace my drink.
OMG, it was so funny! He kept saying these double entendres without even realizing it. With the knowledge I had, especially after a drink and a half, it seemed hilarious. The poor guy had no idea why I was trying not to giggle and kept inadvertently digging himself in deeper and deeper. I should have stopped him, but it was just too funny.
Here's what he said:
I at least owe you another one of these.
Here, can you hold this?
I think if I just push here and jiggle this a little… there, it slides right in. (He was fixing my disco ball.)
Really, let me give you another.
Come on…
Actually, I think we could both use one.
What's your pleasure?
We approached the bar and I couldn't hold my laughter in any longer as he said that last one. He looked at me like I was a crazy person. I was laughing so hard that tears came to my eyes as I asked the bartender for her pen so that I could write down everything he'd said on a cocktail napkin.
I held the napkin up for him to see, asking whether his subconscious was trying to tell him something. He considered it for a moment, looked at me, and slid his payment card across the bar. "The lady will have a… Sex on the beach?" I snickered a little, my laughing spell mostly over, and told him he was close. I wrote, in big capital letters across the bottom of the napkin, "A SCREAMING ORGASM."
He cursed under his breath, shook his head, and pinched his nose again before pointing at the words and holding up two fingers to the bartender, his face bright red.
We finally exchanged names, since he was giving me orgasms and all—ha! "Edward" was surprised that I already knew his name and I admitted that I'd been, um… observing him and his family. Turns out, he'd been observing me, too, so then I didn't feel like such a creeper.
We talked for a long time. He's really, really nice. And interesting. And smart. I like him… a lot.
Jess and Ang and some new friends stumbled upon us as they were passing through the deck, so I introduced them to Edward. Jess gave me a big hug and her hands landed right on my sore back—ouch!
They said that everyone was planning to go parasailing the next day, and invited Edward and me. After a few minutes, Ang gave me a sly smile and pulled Jess away so I could keep talking to him.
He was concerned about my sunburn and said he knew of something that could help, but he was nervous to suggest it. Turns out, his solution was getting into a hot tub or very hot shower. He was explaining all sorts of technical stuff about histamines or something. I think that he didn't want it to seem like he was trying to get me into my bikini when we'd just met. What a gentleman, huh? (Later he let it slip that he'd already seen me in my purple one the other day around the pool, anyway.)
So, we changed and met back up at the hot tub in the no-kids area of the ship. I did a little happy dance when I went back to the room to change. He's so cute and so nice and so… perfect! And when I went to the hot tub he was there, waiting for me. (sigh)
It hurt like hell when the hot water hit my sunburn, so I couldn't stay in too long. I just sat up on the side with my feet in the water when it got to be too much.
I love talking to Edward! I felt like we could have kept talking forever, but when it started approaching 1:00 am, we knew needed to get some sleep if we were going to go parasailing tomorrow. He walked me back to my room and got all nervous again. I thought it was because he wanted to kiss me, but then he handed me a bottle of aloe vera, kissed me on the back of my hand, and turned to leave.
I didn't want him to go. Ever.
I leaned against the door with a huge smile on my face as soon as it shut, and my girls excitedly asked me all about him. We stayed up for another hour talking about him, and even after they drifted off, I couldn't sleep.
I'm excited and nervous and full of adrenaline just thinking about him. He's… god, I can't even express everything he makes me feel. And I've only known him for a few hours. I can't wait to see him again in the morning.
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Marie
Oh my gosh, I was horrified to read the word "orgasm" to my mom! So I didn't—I just said the "screaming" part and she filled in the rest, laughing at me for being so innocent.
That actually led to a really good talk about how reading these books today has made Grandma and Grandpa both seem much more real and relatable to me—seeing their thoughts when they were around my age. Mom seemed to understand exactly what I meant (unlike Christina) when I told her how much regret I was feeling. That brought some tears to her eyes and she revealed that she'd felt exactly the same way when her own grandmother, Esme, passed away.
How strange to realize that Mom had these same kinds of feelings when she was my age. I guess there's a lot I could talk to her about. She's always said I could talk to her about anything if I needed to, but she's always been… I don't know, MOM, you know? Kids just don't talk to their parents about certain things (like orgasms—oh my gosh!) I don't think I'll EVER feel comfortable discussing THAT, but it might not be so bad opening up to Mom about certain things, since she's been through it all before and everything. Hmm…
We flipped through the photos and saw a bunch of Grandma and her friends with those dolphins. Wow—they'd never allow something like that nowadays!
We saw the napkin that Grandma had written on, too. It was yellowed and a little shriveled, but you could still see the words she'd written. Mom giggled as she read them, adding the name of the drink to the end of each phrase he'd said. Then she started to describe what's in the drink. (Uh, yeah Mom, I know that—not that I'd admit it to you!) I tried to change the subject by digging through the box of things I wanted to save, looking for that cup shaped like a mirror ball. How neat to know the true story behind it—even the embarrassing parts, I guess!
Mom started giggling and pointed out the hinge that must have popped apart when she dropped it. "this must be the part he needed to 'press and jiggle a little so it could slide right in,'" she noted, wiggling her eyebrows at the innuendo.
O…K… Time to go! I shook my head and tried to ignore her. Then I grabbed my box of memories salvaged from their home. I had to open up the flaps to put the big, shiny cup in there, and did it as quickly as possible, hoping Mom wouldn't see the things I'd salvaged from their (ahem) special drawer! Gosh—I feel like such a hypocrite, collecting dirty things when I can't even say the words to describe them!
Mom slid on her shoes and stretched her arms up in the air as I grabbed a few things hanging in the closet that I wanted to keep, my box, and of course, the cruise journals.
Then we headed home for some well-needed rest. Tomorrow would be another long, hard day of packing away the evidence of the beautiful life they'd built together.
A/N
OK—Embarrassing conversations with your parents (or your kids)… Hit me!
Thanks to Just4Me for offering excellent suggestions as a pre-reader. I'm so glad you're sharing this journey with me!
And thanks to you for reading, reviewing, rec'ing, and all that great stuff. I love hearing your reactions.
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)
