Tara didn't get much sleep with Sparrow next to her, although for different reasons than years ago.
And of course he snored … But that wasn't it. She had briefly considered pushing him out of the bed for it, but in the end she didn't have the heart to do it – he was in a completely comatose sleep.
Why was he sleeping so soundly though?
Exhaustion, yes. Still. His whole life had been turned upside down in one day, not hers. And yet she was the one laying wide awake in Nirvana. Too tired to stay up, equally too tense to finally fall asleep.
The past day had been absurd.
Strictly speaking, however, merely the culmination of the absurdity of the last few years …
The church. At least the church should have been reliable.
But there was this disgrace of a priest, just a few alleys away from the harbour. A holy congregation in the middle of Shipwreck City should have made her wonder anyway, but she'd been terribly lonely and anxious a few years after the birth of the children. Where, if not in a church, or so she thought, would peace be found?
The man could preach – a clear parallel to Sparrow – but in contrast to him, the supposed servant of God seemed like an honest, good person. He had vowed to be celibate. Perfect, she found – harmless. He was frugal and modest, thoughtful, humble. Even more perfect!
And yet so hypocritical.
No sooner than he'd been alone with her in his study, with the Scriptures closed, he allowed himself to be convinced that her interest in him wasn't of strictly spiritual nature. He was also stubbornly trying to make her believe that she – clearly only present in his church in hopes of forgiveness of her sins – was in dire need of an exorcism. Between her legs, obviously, as she had children born out of wedlock, he wanted to take sudden care of her troubles. Following his logic, she could hardly have thoughts of chastity anyway. All the more surprised he was when she didn't wish to join him in the confessional. For after all the blessings and anointing words he'd preached from the improvised pulpit, finally receiving some care back only seemed right and proper to him …
Said exorcism probably still hurt between his legs. That shame of a priest couldn't possibly have known that she'd indeed grown up like a sinner on Tortuga and was thus always forced to defend herself. Perhaps he'd also gone deaf after her Spanish ranting tirades, but he got what he deserved. Even years later he still wouldn't dare to come near her whenever he saw her at the pier.
After this and one or two other attempts at purely spiritual bonding, she eventually admitted to herself that she could not, for better or worse, expect too distanced connections.
Due to the severe and bloodied birth of the twins, however, years later she still had the naive fear that the scars might tear again. But still – she also didn't want to spend the rest of her life all alone just because a captain without a ship had fathered two children that were almost impossible to get out of her body.
Lieutenant-Commander Theodore Groves strayed into Shipwreck City just when Tara feared she'd never be able to notice even one good trait in a man again. He served the Royal Navy loyally, but not beyond common sense. Most men in Her Majesty's service naturally avoided the strongholds of piracy, but Groves found no difficulty in taking off his uniform now and then. And he quickly realised, after a mention or two, who the father of her twins must be.
Do you think he plans it all out, or just makes it up as he goes along?
She almost sent him packing because of his mad fascination with what he claimed to be the best pirate he'd ever seen, but Theodore had found his way into her heart a bit more with each reunion. With a lot of contentment and attentiveness. All the qualities Sparrow had perpetually lacked. And Groves was brave beyond a doubt. His mere presence in the Cove, soon for her sake alone, could cost him his career, but he was sly enough not to get caught.
Charming and patient he'd always been, even when she stalled him for far too long. And when one day he actually proposed to her, likely assuming that this was her condition for any further step, she firmly refused the ring. But she took him with her, totally taken by him, to test whether her body was still made for unholiness.
Theodore had been so gentle, so understanding, that she was soon able to let herself fall in the face of his devotion. For a while. At some point, however, everything seemed a tad too gentle. A quantum too sacred for a sinner from Tortuga who had previously put up with the worst pirate James Norrington had ever heard of.
She deeply treasured Groves, but in the end, the man followed certain rules in every aspect of his life. And she also knew that he wished for some form of commitment that she just could not give him. Despite the children not being his, he nevertheless asked her again one day, even more seriously, if she'd marry him.
And when, to her own annoyance, she hesitated once more, against all better logic, he asked an even more precarious question.
Do you still love him? Sparrow … You still love him, don't you?
She did not answer, it would never have crossed her lips, but she couldn't deny it either.
And so Theodore only gave her a knowing smile and one last kiss on the forehead. Her heart broke because his did, and because it was the last time she would see him.
Integrity, Jack. That is the key to so many doors. Weren't those her own words? But in the end, what had Groves and she gotten out of her honesty? He would have cherished her, provided for a wonderful life and she'd have highly respected him and …
He would have deserved so much more. He would have deserved the same love he gave. What Sparrow had glossed over with her, she would have done to Groves.
But Jack was ultimately right. She hated that he was. Integrity was the key to many doors. But just not to all of them.
"Seems like you did miss me a little after all," the walking lack of reliability whispered to her still half asleep, pulling her a bit nearer to him while she was already seeking his closeness herself.
He also breathed a kiss on her forehead now. And it felt so much easier than saying goodbye to Groves.
It felt like a new beginning, without the burden of the past – once again.
With Theodore, she had always felt guilty about not being enough. She didn't give what he gave.
With Sparrow, however, it had always been the other way around. Tara had withheld nothing of herself from him – perhaps that was why she no longer had too much to give for anyone else.
Yawning, she ran her hand over her face and took a deep breath before she just snuggled up to him.
He hadn't put his shirt back on after her first aid to his back and so she soon let her gaze wander, half-awake as she was, from one inked image under his skin to another.
Until she realised what she was doing – and promptly sat up.
"What?" Jack was visibly startled. "Tarantula?"
"Huh?" She shook her head in irritation. "No! But what did you do?"
"What did I do?" He snorted in disbelief. "I was lying here exquisitely peaceful until you got restless and enchanted some priest in your dreams. Thought I should wake you up, sounded like a nightmare, but before I could venture such a foolhardy move, likely risking my life by it, you'd already lay down on me to relax again. Because apparently my well-balanced aura is spot on for children and angry Venezolanas –"
"Unbelievable," she mumbled, more to rebuke herself than him. "Is that true? I've leaned against you –"
"Aye, darling, and you can blame a lot of things on sea turtles, but not that. So why won't you just say it …"
"Say what?"
"That you're glad to see me again, too. Say it. The truth will make you feel better."
"Don't you talk like a priest!" she hissed, promptly getting up. "I have to make breakfast for the children. And you … you just stay in bed half the day like you used to."
"Breakfast?" He immediately followed her into the kitchen, still not giving a shirt a second thought. "What's it gonna be?"
She made him pause in front of the doorframe she was blocking. "I said for the kids."
"Good morning."
Jack and her spun around.
Teague loved to scare others by his sudden presence – today was no exception. He stepped towards them with utmost satisfaction, as though he hadn't noticed their shock at his appearance at all.
"I know the temperatures here are nasty all the time, but I didn't need to see the new art under your skin right on the second day, Jackie."
"Then why don't you look at your guitar or the Cove, quietly sat on your terrace, as per usual? I can suggest even more alternatives if you lack the creativity, for instance –"
"Let me put it another way, boy: put clothes on. Whatever made you take off that shirt in the first place …"
"His back pain, Edward," Tara was quick to inform him. "Nothing else."
"Nothing else." Jack nodded very seriously, too seriously in fact to be sincere. "Savvy?"
Teague laughed to himself, already looking for something to eat in the kitchen.
"I haven't been awake for an entire five minutes and already I can't stand any of you."
Edward patted Tara's shoulder in response, much less teasing. "Don't take offence, dear, I'm only joking. Will you make me some breakfast nevertheless?"
His pouting made her nod at once. "Sure."
"Wait a minute, wait," Jack interjected right away, "I thought you were just making breakfast for the kids –"
"Jackie," Teague sighed, "I'm serious, put something on – we're British, we insist on table manners and –"
"Drink tea?" Jack shook his head. "Mum wasn't British by any means – that absolves me of any duty to the mighty kingdom. But you may put ceremonial frills on to try make yourself more presentable in the hot Caribbean."
"I'd shoot anyone else right now."
"Fully aware of that, but in the end it'd probably only be Tara scrubbing the blood of the father of her children off the wood, and wouldn't that be a great pity?"
"Papá!" James was still as sleepy as Tia, but no sooner had they staggered into the kitchen than they were beaming at him in relief.
"You're still here!" Tia cheered. "Only your shirt isn't, but that's not important."
"Children just tell the truth." He winked at Teague, then bent down to his daughter. "Where else would I be, princesita?" He smiled, he just had to. She still wore Hazel's pearls around her neck like a first prize …
"Traveling, you know," she said. "As usual."
"Ah," he went on, nodding as though they were about to conspire. "Well, just you wait, Goddess of the Seas, once you get a taste for it, no place in the world will be able to hold you either because the ocean is calling –"
"Or you'll be content with your life and have roots, sufficient clothing and a loving home to return to forever," Tara interrupted him as she tapped James, who was already borrowing fruit for breakfast, on the fingers.
"But I'm so hungry, Mamá!"
"You'd better help peel the mangoes then."
"Ace eats them with the skin, doesn't he? What if we try that for once, too?"
"Jay, do under no circumstances ever take Ace Brannigan as an example," Sparrow hastily supported her. "The old bilge rat is stingy as hell when it comes to time, money and himself. A horrible way to live and not at all appealing to us, savvy? Rather take debts to the grave after having a blast."
"All right. Savvy."
Tara made only muffled sounds of regret as she continued to cut the fruit, Teague, however, agreed with his son this once as well.
"That's probably the best advice your father will ever give you."
James shrugged at his grandpa. "Yesterday he said I have to make myself interesting for ladies."
Teague immediately was at a risk of dying from laughter – what else could Tara expect …
"In this kitchen," she groaned, partly because someone – Sparrow, of all people – was in her way again, "are too many standing by and repeating insufferable jokes –"
"I am willing to make myself useful, then, batten down the hatches," Jack said, saluting. "Muster up and stand at attention, mateys. Your orders, Sully?"
"For you? Off to the crow's nest." She narrowed her eyes. "Far away."
"May I be there, too?" James folded his arms behind his back expectantly as he turned to Sparrow.
His father immediately nodded. "You could even go ahead, Jay. I'll be right there."
Tara was about to perish in despair, but James, to her great relief, was now also hesitant himself. "I don't know, Papá," he muttered, not taking his eyes off Jack. His conclusion, finally, with his arms crossed over his chest, was, "In the end, you might not even join me –"
"Hallelujah, he's my son after all!" Tara exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air while even Sparrow smirked. "Here," she then said, handing James a piece of mango. "For your acuity …"
While her brother smacked his mango, Tia began circling Sparrow.
"Are these the Desiderata?" she soon asked as she came to a halt examining his back.
"Can you read them yet?"
"Well, the writing is so small –"
"Excellent, Tia!" Jack was proud to say, immediately turning to face her. "We don't admit when we can't do something – we blame the misfortunate circumstances!"
She giggled. "Yes, I always do that."
"Just like your father," Tara added.
"But I still want to know what it says. Papá, will you read it to us?"
"I can't very well read from my back –"
"But why have the text inked there then?" she asked and tilted her head. "And why are you now admitting that you can't do something?"
"Children tell the truth, eh?" Teague's smile dripped with glee. "Maybe you should've just put some clothes on and listened to your old man for once."
"Let's wait for breakfast somewhere else, what say you to that?" Jack ignored him, already taking each twin by one hand.
"You'll have to wait quite a long time for it yourself," Tara announced, not stopping to cut the fruit.
"Seven years?"
She couldn't help but chuckle. "If you're lucky …"
"You hear that, birdies?" Jack and the children were already leaving the kitchen for the terrace, but Teague and her could still hear them. "Barking! Where's that dog, after all? Oh! There you are! Come on, doggy. Do you remember old Jack? Left you on that island, I know I did … But here you are! Come on, that's a boy. Good boy!"
"It's James's turn to feed him," Tia said. "Meanwhile, could you braid my hair?"
He briefly hesitated, but then they heard him claim, "Why sure – probably no one could do it better than me."
"Can you do a French braid?"
"Oh, well – you know, certainly …"
Tia chortled. "Certainly means no."
"No, no. What the French can do, I can do, too. The French are also the inventors of mayonnaise and responsible for the name of the Parley Principle, did you know that? Downright annoying, that Parley thingie, but don't tell Teague I said so. He never tires of mentioning that Morgan and Bartholomew wrote down that circus into his sacred Code."
Tara watched Teague roll his eyes at these words, thus probably doing exactly what Jack intended.
"But isn't that a good thing?" James asked. "That you have the right to negotiate?"
"Yes, that's important, isn't it?" Tia agreed.
"Well, see – outlaws are likely to negotiate if you shout 'Parley'," their father replied. "But you can't do that with the mangy Navy, which actually should have to abide by much stricter rules. Isn't that a paradox? Just think about it."
When the three of them could be heard only muffled, Tara whispered to Teague, "He's driving me crazy."
"Good!" he chuckled. "Me too, but at least you have missed him."
"Edward," she whined, "I should've just married Groves, right?"
"But you didn't want to." He grabbed a piece of mango and took a bite, then said, "Trust me, it's all coming together."
"You have something to do with your son being back here, don't you?"
"Me?" He gave her a look of surprise, even lowering the mango slice. "Not at all, how would I?"
"You told me to open my heart. And now he's here a few days later and –"
"Sea turtles, dear." He just nodded. "Sea turtles."
Dear ella, thanks so much for your kind and motivating review again, I'm so glad you liked the chapters and developments so far and hope the rest will also fit in :)