Chapter 16: Back
It took forever it seemed, for the rest of the year to pass.
I tried so hard to get over my miscarriage, and on top of that, my mothers' health was getting worse quickly.
The lump in her breast kelp getting more and more painful. She got so tired so quickly. She barely ate, barely slept. She was dying.
I worried that she wouldn't be able to make it to the time my father came back from the high seas. But then again, she had something to hold on to. Her husband and soulmate, who would come any day now.
Michael and I were staying at my childhood home when the green flash came and a ship appeared on the horizon.
"Stay with Mother," I whispered to my husband, who was watching over Mother while she slept. "I'm going to the beach. He's here."
Michael nodded, smiling slightly. I left, going down the familiar path. One I had traveled so many times before.
It was like a repeat of a memory, of when I was 9, sitting perched on a rock, watching my mother laugh for the first time in years.
Now I stood alone on the beach, watching the lone man in the dingy row his way to shore. Now I stood alone, a small, wane smile barely etched on my face as William Turner tied up his boat and came to me.
"Calypso," he murmured, hugging me tightly. I embraced him back with equal force. "You've grown! You're almost taller then I am!" He whispered, laughing.
I nodded slightly. "I'm married too." I said, still in his arms.
He drew back, holding my shoulders and searching my face with his coal black eyes. Crows feet decorated the corners of his eyes, and lines framed his mouth. Faint, fainter then mothers, but still there. He had not aged, it seemed, or at least, not as quickly as his wife.
"Are you happy?" was all he said. I nodded emphatically. "Yes, yes I am very happy. His name is Michael."
"Michael. I will have to meet this Michael that has stolen my daughters heart."
Like your father stole yours? I wanted to ask, but figured I wouldn't bring that up. "Mother and Michael are both in the house. Mother … "
"What?" Father asked sharply, his black eyes searching, probing. They might have been a little scared.
"Come." I took his hand and led him wordlessly up the cliff path.
He plagued me with questions, ones I did not answer. All I said was, "You'll see." And see he would.
We entered the dimly lit house. It was spotless, not a speck of dust or dirty dishes anywhere. I had developed a habit of cleaning when I was anxious.
Captain Turner looked around, all the while heading to my mothers bedroom. He moved quickly, but seemingly unaware of what he was doing.
I stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Michael rose from the rocking chair next to the bed, nodded to my father, then joined me in the doorway. Father had nodded to Michael, then turned to his wife, soulmate, and keeper of his still-beating heart.