by Leen Elle
"I wonder if he's thinking about me at this very moment," Mary pondered, dunking a bowl deep into the murky water and washing it with an old rag.
"Of course he is," Sara laughed, "He's mad about you!"
Mary grinned, "Well I should hope so!"
The bowl was handed to Sara, who rubbed it dry and set it in the cabinet just beside her. She tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ears and hopped on top of the counter beside the sink while Mary finished washing a few mugs and some silverware.
"Have you thought about the wedding at all?"
"Of course!" Mary replied, "All girls dream of their wedding day," she paused to hand a few dishes to Sara, "I can't wait to pick out the dress and the veil and the napkins and . . ."
"The napkins?"
"Oh yes! And the silverware too! Everything just has to be perfect! It's a shame I can't get started right now- there's so much to do!"
"Don't get too excited. We've still got more than two months left."
"I know, I know, I'm not," Mary sighed, "When do you think you'll be getting married?"
Sara shrugged, "How should I know? When I'm in love, I suppose."
Mary bit her lip and looked down, continuing to wash the dishes with a funny expression upon her face.
Her sister didn't appear so amused, "What's wrong with you?"
Mary rolled her eyes, "Oh when are you going to stop being so clueless?"
"What in the world are you talking about?"
"If only you could see . . ." Mary sighed. She looked up with a smile and gushed, "You and Brook are just perfect together, why can't you see that?"
Sara jumped back onto the floor and sat down in the chair in the corner, "Why do you always have to bring this up? I've told you time and time again that I . . ."
"But don't you ever want to get married, Sara? Don't you ever want to know what it's like to be in love?"
"I don't love Brook and I'm never going to love Brook so you really need to give up on this hopeless idea. I don't need a matchmaker, thank you very much."
"I'm not saying you need one, I just think it'd be nice if you'd found a man you could be happy with for once. You can't deny that you enjoy being around him."
"Well I never said that. He's a very nice man and a wonderful friend, but you can't make yourself fall in love."
"I know. I just thought that perhaps if you gave him a try, you might find that you'd been wrong . . . I only want you to be happy, Sara."
"Well you've a strange way of showing it," Sara smiled.
They continued washing the dishes in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the water splashing up against Mary's arm, the scrubbing of the dishes, and the squeak of the cabinets as Sara put things away. Mary kept glancing over at her sister with a displeased expression.
"It's just a pity that you two can't see it . . ." She sighed, "Ethan agrees with me. He's been trying to convince Brook for months, if you wanted to know."
"I'll find someone someday, you know. You don't have to start an entire operation or anything."
Mary grinned, "We just wanted to help. We think you'd be very happy if you just gave it try . . ."
Sara looked up with an amused smile, "So Ethan's trying to convince Brook to court me, is he? And I suppose Brook's been refusing?"
Mary appeared slightly abashed, "Well . . . yes."
Sara burst into a fit of giggles.
"I-I . . ." Mary stammered, feeling rather horrible that she had to admit Brook didn't want Sara either, "I mean, he . . . He obviously likes you a lot, he just doesn't see you in that way."
"Oh it's not that," Sara grinned, "I don't blame you or anything, I'm sure you've both done an awful lot of persuading. I just find it rather funny that he feels the same way as I."
Mary frowned, "Well that's not very funny. I think you're both being foolish."
"And I think you and Ethan are wasting your time."
Mary splashed a bit of water over at Sara, who simply smiled.
"Will you promise me one thing though?"
"What's that?"
"If you both find yourself alone even after the wedding has past, will you promise me that you'll at least give it a try?"
Sara raised an eyebrow at her sister, but after seeing the earnest expression upon Mary's face it wasn't quite so easy to refuse. For her sister's sake, she finally decided to surrender, "I suppose so."
Mary beamed, "I knew you'd agree! And you won't regret it, Sara. I know it. And even if you do, no harm was done, right?"
Sara nodded, "Right."
It was a rather chilly day, and the wind was blowing fiercely on deck. Gail sat up in the crow's nest with Rory, her hair flying around her face madly. Mary and Emy were downstairs in the dining room, sewing curtains to place over the portholes in their room, and Sara was reading quietly and contently in Charlie's office. Nora was on deck, wearing a warm sweater and leaning over the railing, when Sawyer walked over.
He pushed his large rimmed glasses back up onto his nose, "Are you alright, Nora?"
"I suppose so," Nora sighed, "But you know, sometimes I feel like I'm just being a silly, lovesick fool. Ben's never going to notice me. Even when he did, last night at Gail's party, it was only after Emy asked him to."
Sawyer shrugged, "You never know. Maybe he enjoyed himself. At least he knows your name now."
"Yes, that's true. But I'll bet he's already forgotten it. It's not like I made much of an impression. I couldn't even speak, let alone dance!"
"You made a fine impression," Sawyer assured, "Don't think so badly of yourself. If Ben has any sense at all he's probably already falling for you. And if he doesn't have that much sense, than he's not a man you'd want anyway. If he can't appreciate how much you care for him, he's not worth it."
The corners of Nora's mouth curled up in a small smile, "Thank you, Sawyer. That was a very sweet thing to say."
Turning to the side, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before looking back out the ocean. Sawyer stood paralyzed, his face burning and his cheeks turning red. But Nora obviously didn't seem to think as much of the abrupt peck as he did. She'd already continued to talk about Ben Leslie.
"Sometimes I think I should just forget all about him. Why waste my time on something that's never going to occur?" She pondered, "Or is that the point? Is the fact that I spend so much time thinking about Ben evidence of how much I care for him?"
Sawyer, having recovered from the kiss, scratched his head, "Perhaps."
"Perhaps," Nora repeated, thinking.
They stood in silence for a few moments as Nora thought about her situation with Ben. Sawyer was simply waiting for her to speak, but when she didn't he thought she might have forgotten about him.
"Do you," he used a finger to push his glasses further up his nose, "Do you want to play a game of cards perhaps? We could play Gin Rummy, like last time."
It took Nora a moment to come out of her reverie, but when she did, she nodded, "Yes, that would be nice."
"Such a horrible day," Mary noticed, gazing out of the porthole at dark clouds and angry, black water, "Charlie says he thinks a storm's coming."
Nora nodded, "I wouldn't be surprised." She, Mary, and Sara were sitting downstairs in their room a few days after her conversation with Sawyer; while Sara read, Mary continued working on her curtains and Nora was doodling on some paper.
"Have you noticed anything different about Emy lately?" Sara asked suddenly, looking up from her book.
"What do you mean?"
"She just seems . . ." Sara began, "I don't know . . . She's just seemed distracted for the past few days. If it's possible, she seems even quieter."
"Do you think something's troubling her?" Mary asked.
"I don't know," Sara said, "I don't even know if something's wrong. I just thought she seemed a bit different lately."
"Well, she has been acting rather strangely, I've thought," Nora agreed, "As though her head's always up in the clouds or something."
>
"Exactly!" Sara grinned, "That's exactly what I thought! I knew I couldn't be the only one that saw it . . ."
Mary rethreaded her needle, and looked up curiously "Well what exactly do you suppose is wrong?"
Nora shrugged, "I have no idea."
"Do you suppose it could be . . ." Sara began, but she didn't continue and instead shook her head, "No, no. It couldn't be."
"What couldn't be?" Nora pressed.
"Nothing," Sara replied, "I don't know what I was thinking. Forget it."
Nora exchanged a glance with Mary, who demanded, "Oh just tell us, Sara! You know that you'll have to sometimes. And besides, if it really is such a silly idea we'll simply forget it."
Sara sighed, "Well alright. I thought that perhaps she might be . . . in love."
"In love?" her sisters questioned at once.
Sara laughed, "Yes, in love. Is that such a crazy thought?"
Mary seemed rather taken aback, but Nora was the one to speak, "I've just never seen Emy as the type to fall in love."
Sara cocked her head to the side with an amused grin, "What do you mean? Aren't all girls the type to fall in love?"
"She's just always seemed to shy away from men, so I never once imagined that she might perhaps be attracted to one," Mary replied. "She always seemed rather scared of them, in a way."
Nora nodded, "That's what I meant."
"Well perhaps our little Emmeline isn't quite so immune to the male species as we once thought," Sara said with a giggle.
"Even if it is true," Mary replied with a sudden spark in her eye, "Who in the world could it be that she's so enamored with?"
"It must be one of the sailors," Nora replied, "The question is which one."
"Rory, perhaps?" Sara suggested, "Or Zooey? Maybe she's jealous that they're always teaching Gail how to sit in the crow's nest and go fishing."
"No, no," Mary refused, "They're much too dirty and boyish for her taste. I'm thinking someone more like Michael, or maybe Jacob."
"Perhaps," Sara agreed, "Or maybe she's followed Nora's lead and has become infatuated with Ben. That wouldn't be hard to believe."
"No it wouldn't," Nora said, her eyes wide.
"I'm not so sure. Ben just doesn't seem like her type either," Mary dissented, "And she already knows that Nora's got her sights set on him so . . ."
"Do you think we should just ask her?" Nora questioned.
"No, she'd just deny it," Sara replied, "And she's probably be embarrassed."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see then," Mary said with a sigh, "I still can't believe it. Our sweet Emy's in love."
CHAPTER 9
Forgotten
Gail left Nathaniel alone for the next few days, afraid that if she walked in he'd just scream for her to get out again. Finally, five days after her birthday, she headed back downstairs just after lunch with a box in her hands filled with the game board for Chinese checkers as well as a sack of marbles. Her thick red hair was pinned up and she wore a very simple blue day dress.
"Hello?" she asked, peeking in the door to see if he was awake, "Nathaniel?"
He was sitting partially up sipping some tea out of a new cup, his old one broken. Although he didn't grimace or frown at the sight of Gail, he wasn't exactly smiling either.
"I thought you might like some company," said Gail. She held up the box, "We could play a game, if you want."
Nathaniel's eyebrows slanted inward and he crossed his arms across his chest
"I don't need any company," he said firmly, "And besides, I detest that silly game. I'm perfectly fine by myself, thank you very much."
"Well I just thought perhaps . . ."
"You thought wrong! I don't need any company, especially of the likes of you."
"I'm sorry about what happened the other day," Gail murmured, stepping closer, "I didn't mean to . . . I didn't know that you . . . that you couldn't . . ."
"I could have gotten up by myself if you hadn't ran off for Charlie!" Nathaniel interrupted, his cheeks reddening as he recalled the embarrassing situation he'd been in three days ago.
"I'm sorry the cup broke."
"It was just a stupid cup, I didn't care about it anyway," Nathaniel affirmed, "And why are you still here? I told you I didn't wish for you to stay and I hate that silly game!"
"You do not," Gail disagreed, sitting down in the chair beside his bed and setting down the game, "You're just determined to be rude to me, for a reason I have yet to find. I'm tired of all your useless rants and no matter what you say you have to be just a little bit lonely! And don't try and deny it! I know you're obviously not the type who wishes to identify their faults, but just this one admit that you might, just possibly actually want me to stay!
"Now," she continued, her voice calmed, "You don't have to vocally admit it if you don't want to. I'm just going to pull over this table," and as she spoke Gail began to drag over a wooden table from the corner of the room, letting it rest between his bed and her chair, "And set up the game," she did so, dropping yellow marbles in the triangle nearest hers and red marbles into his. She took a seat and sighed, "You can go first, if you like, Mr. West."
Nathaniel looked at her quizzically. Although he was slightly disconcerted, knowing that every word she'd spoke was true, he also held a bit of respect for her, for he'd never known a girl who was almost as equally stubborn and determined as he was.
Without a smile, or even a nod, he leaned forward and moved one of the red marbles.
Gail knew that if she showed her pleasure that he'd given in, even if it was only a tiny grin, Nathaniel would most likely back out. So instead she followed suit and simply moved her marble without looking up.
The game commenced quickly and before Gail knew it, Nathaniel had won and another game began. She'd expected to be the victor from the moment she suggested the game since she'd always been the best checkers player in the family, and was surprised when Nathaniel excelled over her. Instead of angering her though, it intrigued to Gail to play someone as good, if not better, than she.
They rarely spoke, but perhaps that was a good thing, she thought, for she was afraid if a conversation did begin they might start to argue, as they always seemed to do.
As they played, Gail began to notice little things about Nathaniel she'd never had the time to notice before. The few times she'd come to see him before she'd never seen him as weak. How can you classify someone as weak when they're always yelling and shouting and so seemingly confidant? In fact, except for the moment she'd seen him lying helpless on the floor, he'd never struck her as being outwardly unhealthy. And besides his skin, he'd never looked terribly ill either.
But now she began to notice little obscurities that had been invisible to her before. His eyes seemed more sunken in and dark shadows lay beneath them. He always seemed to be sleeping during the day, so she wondered how he could appear so in need of rest. Little did she know, Nathaniel had always had trouble sleeping, ever since he was a little boy. He often awoke in the middle of the night from horrid nightmares and once he did he could never drift back to sleep again, but would lie awake for hours.
Once, he made a stupid move on his part, for by moving that one marble he allowed Gail to jump over several others and let her marble reach its destination. He gave a small chuckle, realizing his mistake, and Gail was glad to see that when she grinned as well he didn't become angry. Everything seemed so perfect in that moment; it was all going so well. And then, without warning, Nathaniel's chuckles turned into coughs. Violent coughs. Gail didn't know what to do. She tried to hand him a glass of water, but he shook his head, instead motioning to a tall violet bottle standing in the middle of a dozen other medicines on his bedside table. She spooned some of the thick liquid into a spoon and handed it to him. Just moments after he'd swallowed the syrupy liquid his coughing ceased. He thanked her, and immediately began playing again as though no interruption had occurred.
But the thing Gail noticed the most was the way his hands
would shake. If he ever chose to pick up a marble in the center of the board, surrounded by many more, his white, trembling fingers would almost always knock some of the others marbles out of their positions and Gail would have to re-place them from memory. She became quite used to studying the board before he took each of his moves, just in case. Once, even, his hand shook so much that he dropped the marble and it went rolling across the floor and beneath his bed. Gail had to get down on hands and knees to find it again.
Despite the many interruptions, they played the game contently and when Gail heard Mary's voice calling her to set the table, she actually felt rather sad that she had to leave Nathaniel. She promised him she'd be back after dinner.
That evening, she chose not to tell her sisters about the simple, yet sweet, day she'd spent playing Chinese checkers with Nathaniel West. She didn't want them to get their hopes up that she and Nathaniel had now become friends.
And because she wasn't talking about it, and she tried not to let her mind dwell on it too long for fear her sisters may notice and pry, Nathaniel ended up disappearing from her memory all together by the end of the meal.
She was having such a wonderful time listening to Jess tell her, Nora, and Sawyer about how he'd slipped a slimy bit of seaweed beneath Cary's pillow during the night and how Cary had woken yelping like a little girl, exclaiming that a fish had climbed into his bed. Gail was so busy laughing and listening, she forgot all about her promise to Nathaniel.
When she finally did remember, it was well past nine o'clock.
With a deck of cards in her hand, hoping that maybe they could play a little Rummy instead, she entered Nathaniel's room. He was holding the sack of marbles she'd left behind. Sitting up with his knees bent, he made a little slide with his blanket and set the marbles on his knees so that they'd slide down to his stomach. Seeing him so lonely and playing such a pitiful little game, Gail felt terrible about forgetting him.
"I'm horribly sorry, Nathaniel," she said, "I just got a bit caught up in things, is all. But would you like to play Rummy? I brought some cards and I . . ."
