I stand on cold, dry land alone. The ocean before me is still and black in the night. It is almost impossible to think that a whole world lies beneath it, a world which I will never be able to call home.
Poseidon had offered, begged even, for me to stay. He'd said, "I can build you your own palace right here, Sally. We could be together forever."
And I had been tempted; I had wanted it so badly. I had thought about all the things that I would be happy to leave behind: girls like Lucille, my lonely life in New York, the bills and rent and the endless hunt to keep myself employed. None of that would be a concern any more. I could be free.
But then I thought about all the things I would have to leave behind. The little bit of money I had saved to attend night classes at the community college would be wasted. I would never become a writer. All the hopes and dreams I had built myself would be worthless. I would have a future but the future wouldn't be one I had achieved. It felt like cheating and I knew I would never feel like I belonged in that world.
So I had told him no. He had looked away, not in an angry or disappointed way, but like he knew that I would turn him down. He had fastened a blue coral pendant around my neck to remember him. As if I could ever forget.
We both knew what would come nine months from now. I would become a mother. He'd broken the vow and we knew that the consequences would be dangerous for all of us, him, me and the baby.
"You mustn't tell them what they are," Poseidon had told me, "Once they know, it becomes easier for monsters to find them. When the baby is old enough, there is a safe place for demigod children in Long Island. It's called Camp Half-Blood. They will be safe there and train to defend themselves. Keep the baby safe, Sally. I will do all I can to keep the gods at bay. They will not touch my child, but the monsters on land are harder to control."
He'd laid a protective hand on my stomach and I had known then that this wasn't just some fling. He was going to be a father and took his responsibility seriously. I knew he would do anything too protect his unborn child. He loved it even though it was barely formed. I felt tears prick my eyes when I realised that our baby would grow up fatherless. He could never know what kind of man his dad was. I knew how that felt, now my child would feel it too.
"And keep yourself safe, Sally," Poseidon had pleaded, "The baby will attract monsters but they're not likely to go after mortals. Even so, make me a promise. When the baby is older and more powerful, send them away to boarding schools, hostels, convents – anywhere. Don't let them lead the monsters to you. Promise?"
I had promised, of course I had. How could I have denied him when he looked so vulnerable, not because he was in danger but because I was?
I knew I couldn't see him anymore in Montauk. Being around me would attract too much attention from the gods, he'd said. Especially Zeus. I knew our goodbyes would be final. I had kissed him one last time, not wanting to ever forget the feel of his hands, the taste of his smile against mine. I wanted to memorise him.
And then I had gone, carried back to the shore by Delphin, and now I stand alone at the water's edge. I wonder if he can see me, if he's watching for me as I am watching for him in the waves. My love for him is greater than the distance between us; I know it because I feel it consume me as I look out across the waves.
I turn away from the shore, away from him, and make my way back to my life.
"Hey there, girl," Moira greets me when I walk through the kitchen door. He voice is cheerful and carefree. She seems so happy that I feel bad walking in with my face sticky with tears and eyes I know must be red from crying. I don't want to ruin her evening.
But it takes her all of two seconds to notice that something is wrong. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" She has me enveloped in a hug before I can answer.
I can't help myself. I cry and cry against the shoulder of her white nightgown. Her soothing words drown my muffled sobs and she runs her fingers through my hair, calming me down. She's warm and comforting and she is the mother I have never had. I don't know much about mothers but when I had imagined what mine would be like, I had not imagined a mildly eccentric artist with the ability to burn anything. But I had imagined this love, this comfort, and Moira is to me what no one else can ever be. She is family and I love her. I don't want to let go. I have done too much of that already tonight.
Moira gently pulls away when I have calmed down and sits me down, shooing Travis from his resting spot on the seat. She makes two mugs of steaming hot cocoa and sits across from me, holding my hand. "What happened, darling?" she asks softly.
"He had to go," I say, quite truthfully which is what makes me well up again, "His family need him back home and he had to leave. We can't see each other anymore. It's stupid really, to cry about it, but –"
"Nonsense," Moira says, "It's never stupid to cry about anything. People have this mistaken idea that crying is a sign of weakness. Well, that's the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I heard someone say one time that crying doesn't mean you're weak, it means you've been strong for too long.
"My sister, the lady on the wall up there, she passed away from cancer over five years ago. She was everything to me and, would you believe it, we only knew each other for a few months. Our parents were separated and she lived with our mom and I lived with her dad. We never really knew each other. But when she got ill and she needed me, she came down here and I swear to you, I never loved a person so much as I loved my sister. She was my whole family and when she went, I think a part of me went with her. I still cry for her sometimes. Who's to say I can't just because we hadn't been close our whole lives?
"Love doesn't take a lifetime, Sally. If it's there, it's something undeniable from the moment you meet. And when that's gone, it hurts but it only hurts because it was important. Real love takes a lifetime and then some to forget. So you go ahead and cry about it, love."
We sit together on the living room couch. She doesn't, not once, tell me she needs to sleep and she should go. She stays with me and I feel myself fall asleep with my head in her lap.
