Woman Overboard

Chapter 8 : Morning (1)

Edward

August 27th, 1820

(6:09 AM)

That morning, Edward rolled out of bed early. He dressed himself, combed his hair, and took a deep breath before creaking the door open and slipping into the hall. He stood for a moment outside the door, disoriented by the ship's unfamiliar layout.

When he got his bearings, Edward pointed himself in the direction of the Captain's quarters and walked toward it, forcing his posture into an upright line as though she was already watching him, already deciding about him. Just as he reached the grand wooden door, he had a thought: shouldn't he bring her a present?

On land, he would have run off to grab a bouquet of roses from the florist's shop, or a vial of perfume from the corner store. But at sea, his options were limited. Edward turned around and rushed back to his room, where he rummaged through his few belongings to find something, anything suitable.

No one else was awake yet, but Edward figured that would change soon. He extended his search from his belongings to the whole room.

Before Edward and his crewmates had taken it over, this cabin had belonged to two women -- Edward couldn't remember their names. But they had left several things behind in the desk drawers, which Edward now pulled open to rummage through.

First, he found a silver-rimmed mirror, sleek and shiny as a dolphin's hide. He nodded, placing the item on the floor next to him. Though this would make a satisfactory gift, he kept searching, hoping to find something even better.

Next, he produced a thickly bristled hairbrush, its handle hewn from polished, ebony wood. He turned it in his hand, running his fingers over the coarse bristles. He put the mirror back and reached into the drawer again.

Lastly, the drawer produced a length of ribbon, long enough to tie up a woman's hair. It was satin and smooth, dyed the soft blue color Aless so hated to wear but Edward so loved to see on her. He considered the ribbon and the hairbrush, and then settled on both. He tied the ribbon around the handle like a bow on a birthday present and left the room again, careful not to open or close the door too loudly.

He walked down the hall, his heart pounding. He remembered her harsh words last night. What might she say, now? Would she hate him for returning after she sent him away? Edward didn't know, but he refused to walk through the day in a steady undercurrent of passive aggression, wondering what he had done wrong.

The door stood in his way, daunting and tall. He reached out his hand and rapped his knuckles on it, holding the brush behind his back like an engagement ring or a bouquet of flowers. He waited; no answer. Edward knocked again.

Finally, the door opened, revealing a sleepy Alessandra standing behind it. Her hair snaked down her back in its thick, golden braid, her face flushed from the heat. She wore only a thin robe (borrowed; the sleeves were too long) and a pair of ill fitting slippers.

Edward looked down, her glaring eyes boring into him. What could he say that wouldn't sound dumb or mushy? If there was one thing he knew Aless hated, it was over sentimentality. She did not approve of poetry or keepsakes, nor was she particularly fond of romanticized stories about the past.

"What?" she snapped.

He turned the brush in his hand, regretting the gift. He could already imagine the look of scorn she would give it when he presented it to her. "Good morning," he said.

Aless stared at him some more. Her glare blatantly stated, go away. "I was asleep."

"Sorry." He glanced at her eyes, which only knocked his confidence further back into his throat. "I, um. I got you something." Edward pulled out the hairbrush, presenting it like he might a loaf of bread to a starving woman. He winced at his own pretentious stance and softened his grip, holding it instead like a man forced to hold his wife's hat while she went to freshen up before church.

She gave the gift a weary glance before taking it. "Where did you get this?"

He cringed. "I, uh, found it. In the room."

"So you stole it?"

"Aless." He could hear others waking up down the hall, the sounds of feet pounding and quiet conversation intruding on them. "Can I come in?"

She looked at him like he had just asked her to eat a raw cow liver. Like what he had just said was ludicrous, disgusting, even. "No," she said.

Edward's heart fluttered with mild panic as more and more voices joined the ones down the hall. He could feel his chance slipping away. No more time for timid pleas and stolen gifts. He hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her into the room and shutting the door behind them. Through the porthole, he could see the edges of day peeking over the waves.

Aless scowled, pulling away, but Edward held chin firmly in his fingers, forcing her to look at him. "What did I do wrong?" he demanded.

"You certainly turned that around fast," Aless muttered. Behind her, Danielle slept on, her face covered in a thick tangle of hair.

He leaned closer. "So did you," he shot back, "last night. You can't do that, Aless. You can't just . . . just change your mind. It isn't fair."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "Well, whoever said life was gonna be fair?"

Edward ran his finger along her jaw, admiring the prominent slope of her cheekbone. "As a captain," he countered, "You promised to be just and good and fair, Alessandra. And what you are doing to me is none of those."

"And what am I doing to you, Edward? I don't recall ever hurting you. What do you think I've done?"

He cupped his hands around her face, giving her a little shake. That was the thing about Aless: she wouldn't listen to you if you didn't make her. "You lied to me, that's what you did." He let go of her, sighing. "You lie to me every night. You act like you need me, maybe you even love me, but I never know when you're going to turn on my again. I don't want to do this anymore, Aless! You either want me, or you don't. You don't get to hover in between."

Rather than apologizing, Aless only dug her heels further into the ground. "Never once did I say that I love you," she spat. "I owe you nothing. If anyone is at fault, it would be you, Edward."

"What? No!"

"Yes! You took advantage of me! I was weak -- I am weak -- and you knew that."

"You told me you wanted to--"

"You should have said no!"

They glowered at each other, each lost in their own haze of self righteousness.

Aless crossed her arms over her chest, pulling away from him. "Get out of my room," she said. "I need to change for breakfast."

Edward sniffed and turned away like a child shunning his friend in the schoolyard. "Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."