The Pirate's Revenge

4-"Lovely" Family Dinner

          It was later on in the night when my step-mother returned to the manor. Her job as a socialite required her to be gone all hours, schmoozing the diplomats wives and other ladies on the island. My step mother Agnes was the embodiment of everything I disliked in a person. She was 17 years my father's junior, and had been around for as long as I could remember. She hated me, adding the list of people in my family who couldn't stand to breath the same air as me.

Arista and I had returned a few hours ago. From my room atop the stairs I could hear her shrieking voice, scolding missy for letting me be up here all afternoon doing nothing. I stared out the window, and caught the tail end of the conversation.

"I don't care what she does then, Missy, if that's how you'll have it! Just have a dress ready for the party by tomorrow. I want to see it before, too. And have her ready for dinner by 7!" A few moments later, she pounded back down the hallway. Dinner would very possible hold another conversation about my marriage. Another pointless conversation.

As much as I wanted to change into night clothes, and as much as I didn't care what Agnes thought of me at dinner, I decided against it, because Missy would never hear the end of it I'm sure. And it was not Missy's fault that I was a problem to my step-mother.

I stepped down from my bay window and shut it. The sun was setting towards the west but the heat was still too unbearable. My clock read 6:17. I glanced far off in the distance, though, and noticed the cloud cover seemed odd. The way that the light didn't quite blend like it always did made me feel nervous. But they had predicted clear skies, so that's what I told myself it was.

A dress for the party. So she could show me off to the governor, no doubt. Impress him. I slowly made my way across the room to my closet.

My closet was cluttered, and completely unorganized. The bureau that was given to me as a child sat dusty in the back, overfilling with clothes. Missy and a servant usually found something for me to wear. I could barely navigate it now myself. I brushed hair out of my face and dug deep into a shelf of dresses.

A few minutes passed with me searching the gowns for something wearable before I gave up. I was terrible at dressing myself appropriately, always have been.

I went to the bed and laid down on my back, sinking into the mattress and exhaling warm, thick air. The whole room was still, any breeze not making its way up to my window. I prayed dinner wouldn't bring another conversation about Phillip. Father was growing impatient. The pirate raid on the Maria would hopefully distract him, but I could never be sure. His moods changed like the tide.

I rolled over on my side and closed my eyes. When I did, I saw Phillip. It made my stomach churn. In the lazy heat, I felt myself doze off, thoughts about what my mother would think of Phillip if she was still here.

. . . . . .

I awoke to Missy yelling at me. As usual. Her voice mixed with my confusion, and I sat up in a daze, rubbing my eyes.

"Its 7:30 Callista!" she yelled, stepping back from my bed. "Dinner is already ready!"

"I'm sorry, Missy." I mumbled, rolling off the bed slowly. I felt her grab my arm.

"Up up up you go! Now! And rinse off your face before you leave!" I headed to the bowl of water on the vanity in my room. "Oh, Callista, you have sheet marks on your face! Mrs. Adley is going to be upset..."