Love In Deep Blue: Chapter 2

The year that followed lasted a century to Eva. A century surrounded by hushed conversations and loud stares, and filled with gray nothing.

Now that she thought about it, Eva wasn’t quite sure why she stayed in Triton for as long as she did. Money played a part for sure; she could never have afforded the house out west if Tabitha didn’t buy it for her. Or maybe- probably, and if not only subconsciously- Eva actually waited for an excuse before leaving.

Or, more precisely, proof that she loved and mourned Peter.

Of course she blamed herself for Peter. Perhaps almost as much as everyone else did.

For example- Tabitha.

Tabitha only started looking at Eva two months after her son’s funeral, the ceremony centered around a casket holding his possessions and taking place three weeks after the doomed wedding. And when she finally spoke to Eva- a week after reestablishing eye contact- the first thing she said was “It’s not your fault that you wanted to be married in an at-sea ceremony.”

Which, of course, was code for that it was all Eva’s fault.

By the time Eva’s last day in Triton rolled around, they barely exchanged a dozen words a day, filling in the space with nods and fake smiles. The unspoken agreement went that they not occupy the same room for too long of a time, the un-syncing of their meal times coming naturally. Eva had moved out of the bedroom near Peter’s old room, retreating to the maid’s room that her mother had occupied before a generous retirement payment allowed her a small slice of upstate property. (Bertie, the current maid, lived in town and left in the evening.)

The morning began like a typical one in this purgatory of hers. The sky knew little sun, the dull light blue of it alone making Eva’s lungs hurt. She wore a black dress, and would have anyway even if the town didn’t silently demand her to. Shoes never crossed her mind as she walked through the back garden and onto the the estate’s beachside.

She looked at the ocean, trying to forget how this would be the last time that she would see her and Peter’s most sacred place. Her body seemed to unconsciously oblige, sending a flurry of coughs her way to distract her.

This actually only made it worse, due to Eva remembering that Peter wouldn’t be there to wrap an arm around her and realizing that she still expected him to.

As usual in Eva’s current days, nobody occupied the beach next to the secret cave. She stared at the cave’s innards a bit before daring to drift inside. The cave actually felt smaller than she remembered, like hands tightening around a neck. As she stared at the maiden stalagmite, Eva realized that she hadn’t brought anything to light the candles with, but decided against going back to the house and coming back.

One goodbye alone speared her through the heart quite grotesquely.

She sat by the edge of the cave and let the coming tide nuzzle her bare feet, eyes closing and ears straining. Perhaps some echoes of the past remained in the cave, waiting for a rock to shift and allow it to dislodge.

She jumped a little when something in the water hit her foot. She scrambled back, opening her eyes and seeing that she had nothing to fear.

An apple. Perhaps one of the ones Harper would send out. But then she quickly realized that he would have no reason to send one out between then and…

The tears came before Eva realized it. She stood up and faced the cave one last time.

“I love you, Peter” was all that she could muster. Like a heartbroken fool, she waited for the cave to answer.

She picked up the apple and raised her arm to throw it.

Which is when she noticed the bite mark in it.

Human, it appeared.

Perhaps it was actually trash instead of an offering.

She threw it out in the ocean as far as she could and began walking back. A few steps in, it dawned on her that she at least owed Peter a few skipped rocks.

When she turned back, and found the apple nowhere to be seen.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Even if Tabitha had spoken to her on the ride to the pier, Eva wouldn’t have heard it. She focused more on the old townscape as it passed by the backseat window, trying to absorb what happy memories she had of the place. Most of the people in the street instantly recognized the old Buick, before turning back to talk to each other.

She tried her hardest not to think of their conversations, but her ever-healthy imagination betrayed her.

There she goes. About time she visits the memorial.

I heard that she didn’t even marry the poor boy. That the ceremony was interrupted by the storm.

She’s got no right to live in that house then!

Running away from town. Prolly ‘cause she found out that she wasn’t getting any inheritance or something.

Eva feared that the most up until they pulled up to the pier and saw a whole crowd gathered by Peter’s statue, sitting in rows of chairs.

She feared that until she saw- without a doubt- Mayor Karcher and his daughter standing at the foot of the statue, the mayor no doubt preaching from the Book of Peter Edward-Smith. Eva later found out that Marcia had the idea to honor Peter on the one year anniversary of his sacrifice.

Eva’s last day in Triton a mere coincidence, of course.

Before Eva could beg the driver to continue down the street, Tabitha walked out and urged Eva to do the same.

“They’re here for Peter. You should have every right to be here, too.”

And try not to cough, alright?

Tabitha didn’t need to say that out loud for Eva to hear it.

Just like how Eva didn’t need to have the sermon-goers say the thoughts behind their all-too-wide smiles.

Great to have you here, Eva.

Even better to see you leave, bitch.

When someone- Eva couldn’t quite process who- tried leading her and Tabitha to the front, Eva mimed enough weakness to allow her to sit in the back row, near the pier railing. From in front of the bronze statue meant to replace the body they never found, Mayor Karcher continued voice all the niceties he prepared for his daughter’s hypothetical wedding to Peter.

“This man. This prince who dreamed of life on the seven seas. When those seas tried to claim the lives of everyone aboard, he came to the rescue. Even helped the other crew members escape.”

The sermon droned on. Though the mayor censored himself, Eva couldn’t help but hear everyone in front of her filling in the blanks.

She looked to the railing and intended to throw her thoughts into the sea.

Instead, she caught a familiar face looking at her from the beach below.

Captain Emil Harper. Personal grooming a distant priority. All sunshine taken from his soul. Nursing a bottle of whiskey. Perhaps the only pariah bigger than Eva.

Perhaps the only one she owed an apologize to as much as Peter.

As they held each other’s gaze for what felt like eternity. So much so that Eva didn’t notice the mayor complete his sermon, let alone Marcia walk up to her.

“Eva, good you made it.”

Marcia’s words shot through Eva like an electric chair’s current. She stood and faced Marcia.

Fabric black as a demon’s heart, Marcia’s tastefully-ruffled dress would look right at home in a princess’s wardrobe, her facial features and make-up work sharp enough to cut glass. Even Eva used to wonder just how on earth Peter chose her instead of Marcia.

To Eva’s surprise, Marcia hugged her, her voice as tender as filet mignon. “I’m so glad you came. I heard that you’re leaving us tomorrow.”

Tabitha immediately chimed in. “Doctor’s orders. Warmer climates might help her.”

Marcia nodded gently as she looked Eva with a sympathy that actually appeared genuine. “Yes, hopefully a change of scenery will help you get that awful cough under control.”

As Marcia offered to guide Eva and Tabitha to the statue, Eva glanced back to the beach. Captain Harper had already walked down it, planting himself in the grayed-out sand and looking at the refuse the sea dragged in; most of which in better shape and social standing than him.

Eva could only barely look the pier’s statue, the bronze-Peter’s wistful stare lost to the horizon as he stared out at it with his wonderful smile. She traced its sight to the ocean, longing to have an arm wrapped around her and a warm promise told.

Harper was in mid-drink when the ocean threw a huge pile of seaweed at him, knocking him backwards. He sat up, chucking a few swears.

A pair of yellow eyes stared at him from within the seaweed, pointed teeth catching the light.

The captain shrieked, yanking everyone to the pier bannister. He bashed the seaweed pile with his bottle, but a human hand shot out and seized it. Its joints cracking as it stood upright, the seaweed pile took a healthy swig.

Eva, eyes wide and knuckles white as she grabbed the railing, was the first to identify the man within the green.

“Peter?”

Sure enough, through the curtain of seaweed and hair, the same boyish grin flashed perfect ivory. He raised the bottle in a toast. “To wedded bliss.”