Love Always,

by Sonya Loveday

  Lunch turned out to be a stack of forms to sign. Not very appetizing, I can assure you. They got me, Maggie. Both of them. Remember the stipulations of my ‘inheritance’? Yeah, well, Sophia and Mother used that to their advantage. I say this because what I bought could be considered something for Sophia and me. I know I’m being cryptic. I don’t mean to be. I think I’m just stalling a little to find the right way to say I bought a boat, well technically, a yacht. Yes, you read that right. And not just any yacht… no, this particular floating vessel is big enough to be its own little personal island. I’m not gloating by any means. In fact, it sort of makes me a little sick to think about it. And worse, it was the same type of boat Sophia asked me to go to the docks in The Hamptons to look at. I guess Daddy Dearest must have told her no when she wanted him to fork out that kind of cash for a floating mansion. How it’s justifiable that I did it is beyond me. At least it wasn’t a house.

  I know you’re asking why. Why did I allow this to happen? Well, two reasons really. One, I wasn’t in the mood to get into it with Mother, not that she would argue back at that particular point, but I would have paid for it one way or another. It was easier to play her game for the moment. And two, I don’t plan on keeping the bloody thing (thank Ed for my new and colorful language). I’m going to sell it the first chance I can.

  In fact, I hatched this plan as the salesman rattled off all the boats details. And in between Sophia’s giddy gasps of delight, I was going over all the places I would list that damn thing to get it off my hands, preferably before the ink had a chance to completely dry on the contract.

  The silver lining to this duly hatched plan of theirs is that once the boat sells, I’m taking the money and rolling it into my investments. If they can play dirty, so can I.

  I’m telling you, I was so furious that I excused myself from the salesman’s office and made my way to the reception desk, asking for the attendant to call a cab for me. She gave me this owl-eyed blank stare, but did as I asked.

  Choosing a spot in which I could see the parking lot, I waited until the cab rolled to a stop before making my way back to the salesman’s office. Mother and Sophia were still tittering away with their enjoyment of what I’m sure they thought of as a success in getting me to keep the engagement when I strolled in asking if the paperwork was done. The salesman smiled, handing over a massive folder to me along with a bag filled with an assortment of complimentary gifts the dealership gives for such high-end purchases.

  I shook his hand and walked out, not saying a word to Mother or Sophia before getting in the cab. I left them there, hoping they felt just as foolish as I did.

  So yeah, I own a yacht, but not for long.

  What the hell do I need it for anyway? And even more mind-boggling than that… why would either of them think it would make a difference one way or the other? Just because I didn’t fight them on buying Sophia’s ideal sailing vessel (more like gloating vessel) didn’t mean I’d change my mind and marry Sophia so that I can have access to my money. That’s just asinine! I don’t think I will every truly understand women, or more to the point, those two women. But as I said earlier, by paying for it out of the allotted money I could spend on items of value for social standing, I can turn around and sell it. The best part is I don’t have to put the money back. A stipulation loophole so to say. I one-up’ed Mother and there’s nothing she’ll be able to do about it. I almost feel giddy. Almost.

  Can you believe the delusion they’re both under? I can’t even drive the damn thing because its size requires an actual captain!

  As you can tell, I’m still annoyed over the fact that even now, I’m being played, or I should say, they’re trying to play me.

  What next, Maggie? I mean really!

  I gave the gift bag to Ed. I still have no idea what was in it. Mysteriously enough, there’s a compass hanging off a hook beside your postcards. There are times when I swear it mocks me, along with the images of all the places you’ve been.

  What the hell am I doing here, Maggie?

  I stare off into space. I can’t eat. I have no motivation to get my schoolwork done. And at the oddest moments, I swear I can hear the tinny sound of a ships bell off in the distance.

  I think I may be going crazy.

  Yesterday, Ed came in and turned on his music like he always does when he’s setting out to crack one of his books open. And what should play? “Son of a Sailor”. And it hit me hard how much I miss you. How much I can’t wait to see you.

  What are we doing, Maggie? Why are we doing this to each other? Why am I still here trying to hold onto a dream that is no longer that to me anymore? And I do all this while you’re out sailing the water, further and further away from me.

  I truly am floating in a sea of my own discontent, and it’s trying it’s hardest to drown me.

  I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not what you want to hear. Hell, I don’t want to hear it myself. But it needed to be said in order for me to pick it apart and figure out what I need to do in order to pull myself out from this rut I’ve dug myself into. I know the cause of my distress. I know what actions I need to take to make things right for myself. I just have to put everything into motion. And I will. It just seems like it’s taking forever to do it. But I will do it.

  Always yours,

  (the not-so-captain)

  Phillip

  July 10th, 2015

  Phillip,

  I finally got all your letters forwarded to me from Mike. As you can tell from the postcards, I’ve been drifting from city to city, searching for the first place I could settle in for a few weeks.

  And since I’m writing to you, I guess you can tell I’ve finally done just that. After I was cleared through customs, I picked this romantic little harbor off the Berry Islands. I paid for two weeks’ worth of docking, water, and electric, and can stay right inside my boat.

  What a deal!

  Getting a job wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. They have a ton of rules set in place, and I don’t plan on staying long enough to try to abide by them. So instead, I found a people-to-people program and signed up for it through the marina. It’s basically a program that helps those who want to know more about the culture by assigning a Bahamian ambassador to them. I’ll be meeting up with whoever they assigned to me tomorrow morning and start touring the island.

  It’s better than just hanging around until I sail again.

  I can’t wait to dive in and learn all I can. Maybe he’ll even have an idea of where I should go next that will give me the richest experience. I must admit, even though it’s been the adventure I’ve always dreamed of, I’ve yet to find that one place where I felt I belonged.

  Being alone has been liberating, but also saddening. Knowing that I can handle the waters on my own has proven so much to me. I mean, I knew I could do it, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t any fear when I first started out.

  Even with learning this about myself, there’s a sadness I didn’t foresee in having no one but myself to share all these amazing things with.

  Well, aside from what I write in these letters.

  Like how sometimes, when the sun sets, it’s almost like an anchor dropping weight, pulling the curtains back on the sky so that the stars can finally shine. Or how late at night, when I’m drifting and lying on deck, the stars are so vivid and bright they almost feel alive. Twinkling as if they’re conversing with one another. Hanging so low I think I could touch them.

  I wonder what they talk about. If they are the souls of all those who have passed from this earth. And if they are, I wonder which star is my mother’s.

  It’s moments like those that I wish you were with me, and when I feel the most alone. When the sky meets the sea in equal darkness, and you can’t tell which from which, the world feels so much bigger than it ever has before. It has a way of making you feel like a speck floating in the vastness. I suppose it just depends on what side you want to be on—the glass half-empty or half-full.

/>   Again, I’m rambling. Probably from spending too much time with just my thoughts to accompany me.

  I should put your nerves at ease by telling you I speak to my father weekly, sometimes every other day… depending on the weather. I invested in a satellite phone and have the best radio money could buy.

  He would ring my neck if I hadn’t.

  But anyway, enough about me. About the boat… what a crazy scheme. It leaves me wondering what for?

  Surely, she must know by now that you have no desire for her. And yet, she still throws herself at any chance to claim you. My chest burns and my fingers itch at the thought.

  I suppose I can’t blame her though. You are you, Phillip. Any girl would be lucky to have you.

  I really hope you’re feeling better since you wrote your last letter. If I was there, I would pull you into the tightest hug and brush my fingers through your hair, telling you how amazing and wonderful you are. Tell you that everything is going to be okay, because it really will be, Phillip.

  But because I can’t, I’m enclosing a picture of the sunset I witnessed last night. Isn’t it amazing? Just like we talked about, only it happened on the wrong island. As I watched the sun go down, glazing the sea in a deluge of blazing oranges and purples, I closed my eyes and pictured you sitting next to me, holding me against you. I was so happy in that moment… so happy it almost felt real.

  I believe deep down in my heart that we will be together, Phillip. Maybe this awful rut is just fate trying to nudge you in the right direction. Life only ever puts you on your ass when you’re not on the path you’re meant to be on. You have to stick with what your gut is telling you.

  Pivotal moments happen every day, Phillip. All you have to do is show up for them.

  Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I miss you. I’m thinking of you and sending all the best well wishes and love that I can. I know you may not believe it, and it may not be in the flesh, but you are here with me, Phillip.

  Every second… every moment… you’re here too.

  Love always,

  Your Maggie

  “SO YOU’RE REALLY GONNA GO, eh?” Ed asked as he watched me pack my overnight bag.

  “To keep the peace. Yes,” I answered with a sigh.

  Ed tossed the book from his lap and stretched before hitting me with the next round of questions. “But why? I mean, I get that you were invited, but why not say you have a test or something?”

  Why indeed?

  I couldn’t help but ask myself the same question. Maybe it was the fact I’d always gone to Father’s summer gala event. Or could it be that no matter how much I wanted to change, there would always be that moment of weakness that had me saying yes to things I really didn’t want to do out of obligation?

  The invite had come in and I’d RSVP’d before really thinking about it.

  There was nothing to be done about it, so it was best I just made my appearance and played the dutiful son before I completely and totally upset their world.

  “Have you told them yet?” Ed asked, moving over to my bed and plopping down, hands folded between his knees.

  “No, but I will soon,” I said, zipping the bag closed and lifting it to my shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with me?”

  “Me? At a hoity-toity gala? You must be joking, mate. They’d kick me out first thing for my accent alone,” he replied, giving me a goofy grin as he rolled his eyes.

  “It wouldn’t be your accent. Maybe your off-key singing though,” I said, jumping back when his foot shot out to kick me.

  Ed crossed his arms. “You’re the worst roommate ever, Phil. Would it kill you to toss your socks on the floor like a regular bloke?”

  “How do my socks and your singing have anything to do with each other?” I asked, pulling the door open to leave.

  “Both are equally annoying,” he answered with a snort.

  I shook my head at him. “Last chance… are you sure you don’t want to go?”

  “I’d rather stay here and put my socks away, mate.”

  For all of Ed’s quirks, his dry sense of humor was probably the best part about him. At any given moment, Ed could zing one out at you and keep rolling. It definitely made college life a rounded experience. And honestly, it made the days a little more bearable to get through.

  Lifting my hand with a wave, I closed the door behind me, waiting until I was out the door and halfway to my car before letting out a long, drawn-out sigh. Going to my parents for the weekend was the last thing I wanted to do. But I’d told them I’d be there, and at least on that, I’d keep my word.

  “WHERE ARE YOUR CONTACTS? HONESTLY, Phillip! We have guests arriving and you’re not even anywhere near presentable. What is that you’re wearing? Go change this instant before someone sees you!”

  Mother berated me the minute I stepped in the front door, her words slung like tiny barbs of venom. I didn’t even get a proper hello before she started in on me and then turned on her heel, walking away from me with a huff.

  “Well, hello to you too, Mother,” I mumbled, making my way across the grand entry of my parents sprawling mansion.

  Behind me, someone coughed lightly as if covering a slipped laugh. When I turned, I found Henry, our butler, lowering his hand as he tipped his head at me. His black jacket was speckled with shimmering colors coming from the crystal chandelier he stood under.

  “Welcome, Master Phillip,” he said as he made his way over to me, eyes twinkling like they always did when he was pleased with something.

  “Hello, Henry. It’s good to see you,” I answered, turning for the grand staircase before he could pluck my bags out of my hands.

  Henry had been with the family for over twenty years and had earned every single strand of silver hair that was neatly combed on his head. His once deftly elegant hands were swollen at the joints and turning at odd angles. His suit was still pressed to perfection with the family emblem sewn on the pocket of his jacket, even though his shoulders sagged a little more than they used to.

  Seeing that I wouldn’t be turning over my bag to him, Henry fell into step beside me as we climbed the stairs side by side. I kept my steps slow and easy, and Henry slid his hand up the banister as if spot checking for dust.

  “Henry, you’re at the age of retirement, right?” I asked, instantly regretting it. It was none of my business what he decided to do with his life but, for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why he’d want to spend what was left of it waiting hand and foot on my parents.

  “And then some, Master Phillip. Here you are,” he said, coming to a stop at my bedroom door, making me wait until he opened it for me.

  “Thank you, Henry. Please tell Mother I’ll be down soon,” I said as he turned to close the door behind him.

  He nodded briefly and then asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Master Phillip?”

  Dumping my bag on my bed, I chuckled, saying, “I’d ask you again, for the millionth time, to stop calling me Master Phillip, but I know you won’t.”

  “Indeed,” he said, giving me a warm smile before stepping out of my room and making his way downstairs.

  Once he’d gone, I closed my door, turned the lock, and leaned against it with a sigh. I could probably get away with an hour of solitude before I was summoned to join my parents downstairs to welcome the guests.

  I only needed to change, which would take me five minutes at the most, leaving me with plenty of time to write Maggie.

  Sitting down at my desk, I pulled out a sheet of paper and briefly wrote of my arrival at home and Mother’s reaction to my appearance.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle because Mother hadn’t noticed my missing contacts when she’d shanghaied me from my dorm and I ended up buying a boat. I damn near swallowed my tongue when the salesman handed over the contract for me to sign. I’d almost stood up and walked out. Almost. I could have bought a mansion for the price tag on that thing, or even a couple of really nice cars.

  Instead, I sold
it and took a pretty hefty loss, but not a big enough one to make much difference to me when it was all said and done. Contractual loopholes gained me access to money I never would have been able to touch because of the marriage-to-Sophia clause.

  I pushed my wondering thoughts aside and went on to write Maggie about the party my parents were throwing and how I wished she were there to see all the preening and strutting that would take place as soon as everyone was within earshot of one another.

  After I finished the letter, I sat back and closed my eyes, calling her to my thoughts. My days of being without her dragged endlessly, or so it seemed. The reality of it—my reality—was that the life I’d planned out for me was no longer what I wanted.

  What I really wanted was to pull the anchor that was my life free and set sail with Maggie. And by selling the boat and investing my money, I had enough to make it happen. I’d planned on keeping it a secret until I saw her again, but I just couldn’t keep it locked up inside me any longer.

  Snatching the pen up from my desk, I jotted a quick P.S. under my name that said…

  I’ve unenrolled at college for next semester and will be finishing my degree on the water with you.

  Just seeing that sentence made my heart beat faster in my chest. My feet tingled as if I’d sprouted wings and had flown up from my seat. I’d never been happier in my entire life.

  MOTHER’S EYES STERNLY MET MY mismatched ones, but she wouldn’t say a word to me about it until after everyone had left. It didn’t matter to me, because once I told her about my plans for school, my missing contacts would be the least of her concerns.