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Also, last night I dreamed of you. It was almost frightfully vivid. We were in a boat, just you and I, and everything was sepia—but a bit warmer and a great deal brighter. You were rowing our boat. After a while, you got out on the shore and went to walk, and you told me to come back any time. Declan had a game I was worried I’d be late for, so…I left you there. I didn’t wake up crying, though. I felt at peace about it. As if you belonged there. That was a change, I suppose.
I know you know already…but I’d like to formally let you know I got the surname you chose for me. Yes, I’m smiling as I write this. It is a bit funny, isn’t it? It was going to happen one way or the other, so I’ve carried out the family mission. I’m Finley Carnegie now…and Mum, it’s simply glorious.
Sometimes when I watch him play, or we walk together in the woods with Baby, or I look across a table as we’re at a restaurant, I feel so…happy. Really just joyous. I love him so much. He’s simply perfect for me, despite the odd timing and the tragedy we went through. It’s so wonderful, at times I don’t quite trust it. I’m not sure it’s supposed to feel this good all the time.
I’m told it can take a bit of time in the light to feel that it’s not odd to be away from darkness. If I feel that way, can you imagine how my prince feels? Oh, but he’s so healthy now. So well and, honestly, I feel he might be happier than I am! I’ve got swollen ankles, after all, while my Sailor is in tip-top condition, strengthening his physique so he looks more demigod than mortal. He just got the starting job, and I can’t tell you how pleased he is. He adores playing. He said he didn’t even know how much until being in full health.
He played his first game for the Mariners in March. I watched from the family spot, and after, we went out with other players and their families.
I have friends here. Really, five acquaintances and three dear friends thus far. One is the wife of another player, one a woman I met at yoga, and the third is my astronomy professor. Yes, I’m taking classes at a local college. Just a few for now, to satiate my interest in a few areas.
I have a business now. As of last week, I’ve got the business license they require here in America. I’m selling pottery to local stores and occupying sales space in some others. It’s called The Siren’s Fin. I’ve got an online shop as well, at Etsy.
I think you’d love it in Seattle, Mum. Actually, I know you would. It’s so lovely all the time. Even when it’s not, if that makes sense. There can be a lot of traffic, and sometimes it smells like automobile exhaust, but there are petits fours and tacos. Grocery delivery. I buy trinkets for myself when I like: earrings and nail polishes, sleek pens with ink that sparkles. Small things for my Sailor and items for friends at Tristan. There are so many people here, and an absurd percentage of them are lovely. And also…Declan is here. I see why you loved his father. He is so much like his father.
And he’s getting better. I’m sure you heard me when I talked of that with you. And I do feel it’s better now. He so rarely has the dreams, and sometimes now I sleep behind him, with one arm about his waist. He’s not meeting with Rachel anymore. We’ve both had to find new people in the city. In fact, he’s found someone who specializes a bit in what he needs. It’s gone rather well. One day, all that will pass like gray clouds, leaving only sunshine. But it’s sunny now, in this moment, so who’s complaining?
Mostly, I suppose I wrote today because I feel more confident than ever in letting you know that I’m okay now. If you’re watching over me, as I know you must be, please know how well I am, and that perhaps you need not watch with any worry.
Mummy…our baby is a girl. When she’s born—any day now!—she’ll be named Isla Katherine.
I never went to the stars, Mummy, but you did. I’m so sorry that you didn’t get away in time; you never got the happy ending you deserved. It still makes me weep sometimes. But I don’t weep as much now. Now I try to simply think of you, and hold you very dear, and live exactly as I feel you’d want me to. When I hold Declan, I know you’d adore him. (Would you be pleased to know his father is seeing someone, as of recently? She runs a charity Charles started with Declan. It’s focused on helping people talk more about their mental health. They’ve been on three dates thus far!)
What more is there to say? I’m not sure. Baby! She’s doing quite well. In fact, she’s here by me now, prancing about the garden. She’s a big girl now, but still our Baby.
I’m a bit nervous about the delivery, but not so much. Declan and I learned Lamaze, although I already had some practice from when Anna had Kayti. If I need to, I’ll get the epidural…or I’ll be grateful for the C-section. Serious risks are blessedly low here.
I pray our baby girl will look like you, and be like you and Gammy. Please tell Gammy I’m so well, and send my love. And please give all my love to Katherine as well. It’s a bit unorthodox, but I know you’re all happy there, as we are here. All this ends well. On our end, I promise it will. I can feel it now, that it’s all going to be well.
I shriek as something touches my back. I whirl. “Declan!”
He’s grinning as he looms over the bench where I’m sitting in our garden behind the city house. He’s clad in practice clothes and sporting sweat-crazed hair.
“What are you doing here?” He’s home nearly three hours early.
“I don’t know.” He moves around the bench to sit beside me and drapes his arm around my back. “I guess I just missed you.”
“You think she’s coming today!” He lifts his brows, and I laugh. “You’ve got no chill, Carnegie. Go play baseball.” I hug him even as I say it. “Truly, I missed you, too.” I sniff his shirt and giggle. “You need a shower.”
“I think you mean we need a shower.”
We’re wicked as ever in the shower, despite my whale-like state. He’s so ready to be in me, but I so dearly love denying him. He suckles at my swollen breasts and rubs his long, hard sex between my soapy thighs. Then it’s early bedtime for us. How ironic that the best way for us now is with him thrusting from behind, and pillows propped beneath my belly.
He parts me with his fingers, dips one in and paints me with my slickness. When he pushes in, he’s a bit gentle—and I know why. I giggle at the absurd reason why, and he slaps my backside.
“Don’t be a naughty Siren, Finley.”
“Oh, but naughty sirens have the most fun.” I’m laughing till he thrusts, and then I’m gasping. I’m so swollen now, and he’s ever so thick. He fills me so I moan, and drags himself out. Then he pushes
back in, and I cry out.
“Ohh!”
“You like that?”
“Yes!”
He pushes in again, until I’m panting…and then slowly drags out. “You need more?” He rolls his head at my entrance.
