Chapter 1: A Waitresses' Lament

Chester's Seaside Shack, Western Port, Unknown Harbor Town.....(1978)

  West Port, was a bustling seaside township where many a ship had ventured in a bid to take a break from the harrowing perils of the Pacific then turn around and set sail all over again. It had been like that for as long as anyone who had known anything about West Port could remember. And it had certainly been so for a rather seasoned waitress who found herself impressed by the sailors that ventured to the busy port. She was a rather young woman despite her nearing middle age, with eyes as chaotic as the swirling waves of the ocean itself and a deeper brown than the blackest night with rims of the most tranquil of blue hues that could only be seen if one had been standing face to face.

Her hair had been a tangled mess of unruly brown curls, as chaotic as her glance and equally as mysterious. She'd been in good spirits and her naturally paled complexion took on a bit of a glow as she moved about balancing platters and trays while wiping up spills from tables and enjoying the easy conversation with a few travelers and sailors who had ventured to Chester's Seaside Shack, the restaurant where she'd found employment three years prior.

On this particular day, however, everyone seemed to be in good spirits and wished her well as she moved about setting the place right again amid all the excitement. One of her coworkers smiled at her knowing exactly what had gotten her in such a cheery mood.

"Congratulations, again," she said the thinly built blonde with sparkling blue eyes as she treated the dark-haired waitress to a friendly smile. "I'm sure your hubby will be thrilled by the news."

The dark-haired waitress returned her smile in kind hoping that she'd been correct given that she had not spoken to the man that held her heart in close to three months in person, aside from long distance and few far in-between phone calls and equally long-awaited letters.

The husband in question had been a rather average man, tall by a measure of height and quite thin in his own right. She often questioned how that remained possible due to his ability to nearly eat anyone out of the house and home whenever he'd been given leave to return. He'd been something of a sea-loving man as much as anyone who ventured into its deep and murky waters. A small smile filed across the pleasant-looking face of the dark-haired waitress as she did a bit of reflecting.

They had met in this very establishment, three years prior and he'd been a complete and total ass in the process of their first meeting. He'd been at sea nonstop for several years before his crew convinced him to brave the shores despite his agitation at having to be landbound. Needless to say, they clashed matching wit for wit before charm and flirtation took over and the mutual commiseration of rather difficult childhoods leading them down the path to ending up in the same harbor town had been more or less what brought them closer together.

It wasn't long before he had become less agitated about his visits to shore as long as they included seeing her at the restaurant. Eventually, he asked her out and they ended up dating, and a short two years into their association, he asked her to marry him. Deeply in love and intrigued despite his moodiness and long-distance occupation, she agreed and became his wife.

It didn't take long to realize that he'd been far more charming in private than when crowded by strangers and equally as passionate about her as he'd been about his travels along the sea. It had been the result of one of his more passionate visits that she'd been awaiting his return with a bit of anxiety despite her apparent happiness.

The dark-haired waitress made her way toward the kitchens, where she found herself dumping her newest load of dishes into the sink and then making her way back to the main room. She'd only taken a step out toward the tables, enjoying the salty sea air as she did, only to find herself wrapped in the surprisingly strong arms of a rather charming, tall, man with the most memorizing hazel eyes fixated upon her.

"You're here!" shouted the dark-haired waitress suddenly bursting into happy tears.

"Indeed I am," he replied stealing a rather passionate kiss from the greatly surprised woman who had been his wife.

"You said you might not make this trip." said his wife smacking him across the chest when he let her go.

"I said "might," he replied in defense of his previous statement. "Besides, I believe you enjoyed the unintended element of surprise."

She smiled loving how he never once turned off the charm as he spoke.

"So what if I did?" she asked still pleased to see him after being so long apart. "Truth be told I have something of a surprise for you as well."

He looked at her for a moment with an arched brow as the suspense seemed to be getting to him. She had been near busting and couldn't hold out any longer given how long she waited prior, but the look on his face had been priceless.

"Well...since you can't guess...I might as well come out and tell you," she said with a rather serious expression on her face.

His arms were folded across his chest and his weight shifted from one foot to the other in anticipation as she made her big announcement.

"Do you recall that I informed you that I wasn't feeling too well a few months prior." she began hoping that he'd be able to catch on.

His expression shifted and she saw something akin to realization file across his surprisingly handsome face and he had been visibly taken aback.

"Y-You're..." he began sputtering despite his formerly apparent wit. "You're pregnant?"

The dark-haired waitress nodded as he stood letting the shock move over him. He stood motionless for several moments seemingly unable to process what he'd just heard before reaching out and wrapping his arms around his expecting wife.

"H-How long?" he asked rather nervously.

"Three months," she replied.

"Three Months?" he asked even further shocked. "And I'm just now hearing about this now!?"

"Well, I wasn't sure in the beginning and after that, I wanted to tell you in person," she replied in defense of her already-made decision.

She'd been a little afraid of what his reaction would be once the shock had settled, but he seemed to consider a few things before embracing her again. She felt his hand move along her belly as he met her gaze.

"I'm going to be..." he began.

"A father." she finished for him.

Their eyes met once more before he pulled her into an intensely passionate kiss.

All things considered, he seemed to take the news rather well, but as she clung to him, the seemingly unnerved man's expression briefly changed to one of outright fear before being buried behind his usual awkward boyish quality charm.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Four Months Later...

The dark-haired waitress had been rushing frantically to get to the docks despite her pregnancy. There had been panic in the streets and fear coursed through the lot of them, especially her as news reached the harbor town of a ship coming in during a violent storm and being tossed about just offshore. Thunder and lightning had filled the sky along with swollen gray clouds bursting with rapidly pouring rain.

Her heart beat thunderously within the confines of her cotton-clad chest as she neared the end of the boardwalk. His ship had been in the distance, a sight she'd never soon forget, which caused her to further panic as she saw the flames that had threatened to consume it.

"She's a lost cause!" shouted one of the men on the docks as they watched as a burning ship entered the waters near the harbor, there was a good deal of smoke in the distance a way beyond and it seemed to be getting thicker by the moment.

"There has to be some way to save them!" shouted another not willing to give up on the rather well-liked crew so soon. "They made it this far....they can still be saved!"

The sound of the second man's determination had been a small comfort as she noted several men leaping from the burning ship out in the distance to swim to shore. The waves were wild and unpredictable as many were tossed about and some submerged within the water. Others narrowly avoided the debris from the fire-consumed ship as they attempted to stay afloat.

Tears streamed down the cheeks of the expecting waitress as she noted a good deal of the men had been fished out of the water. Captain Runnels had been the first to greet her after being fished out along with most of the crew. A miraculous feat considering the notion of impending doom that lingered beforehand.

She had been grateful the old man made it, but she knew how much he loved his ship and how sorrowful he'd been in the wake of the disaster. The old Captain could barely look at her, for the sorrow in his aged face had been quite severe.

"Where is...?" she began only to be cut off by an explosion of the ship's boilers as the waves continued to sweep the burning vessel away from the coastal shores and back out into murky depths of the ocean.

"GET DOWN!" they shouted ducking and covering as the raining debris filled the air as well as smoke and soot.

When it had been all said and done, Captain Runnels looked over at the sorrowful waitress and bowed his head. Most of the crew had been saved it appeared aside from First Mate Trent Collins and her beloved sailor husband.

The look on the old sailor's face had been more than enough confirmation to the now heartbroken waitress as the survivors recounted the strange tale and their eventual rescue from being put into a curious position that allowed for them to be saved in the first place.

None of them believed they should have been alive given the choices between burning to death in a blazing inferno and drowning amid the crushing waves of an angry sea. From what some of them professed, the oil rig in which they had been stationed had exploded causing everyone to abandon the rig and get aboard the frequently sailed cargo ship. The explosion caught the retreating ship setting it ablaze just as they attempted to reach the nearest shore while battling the blazing inferno on deck. It seemed that only a miracle could be credited with how the flames didn't consume them before they could be rescued. The expecting waitress found herself overtaken by sorrow until she spotted a lone figure on the distant beach pulling another from the no doubt icy waves.

Without a second thought, she made her way down to the beach hoping and praying along the way that by some minor miracle, her husband had survived this peculiar ordeal and would live to see his unborn child into the world.

Against the advice of those around her, she managed to make it, her heart beating even more erratically than ever before.

He had to be alive.

He had to live and see their child born.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

The Beach, Western Port, Unknown Harbor Town.....(1978)

By the time the expecting waitress reached the beach, she could fully see two men...one a little over middle-aged and breathing rather raggedly while choking on seawater and the other...badly injured via burns on the shore. She recognized them both immediately as First Mate Collins and her husband who had been in far worse shape than anyone else on the formerly burning ship had been that made it back to shore.

Trent rolled onto his back gasping for air as he looked up at the tear-stricken face of the visibly shaken waitress before turning his attention to his ailing friend.

The badly burned man had not long to live by the looks of him and he'd been in a great deal of agony from his efforts during the onset of the rapid explosions and subsequent ship fire. It had not looked it on the surface but, he had managed to save the lives of nearly everyone on the oil rig before the fires consumed them...himself included.

The waitress dropped to her knees beside him noting the charred flesh and exposed bones that resulted in the rather unfortunate set of circumstances. She could hardly note his features despite her best efforts but his hazel eyes had locked onto her the moment she arrived.

Trent had been half-conscious despite it all and much too weak to offer assistance. He had not known how the badly burned man had managed it, but he pulled him from the lower deck, catching a burning plank along the way that set his body on fire, but he knew to keep moving even when the salty sea water licking against his badly charred flesh ached something terrible.

The sorrowful waitress sat in silence as a medical team made their way to her and the two men. By the time they reached them....her husband had already been gone and Trent required medical care. The last thing she recalled had been his hazel eyes turning blue in the wake of his sadness as he rested his charred hand on her belly for the final time before succumbing to his rather ghastly injuries. The waitress watched in horror as the sea current swept away her poor husband and Trent Collins began to regain consciousness. His sadness at what had transpired was evident as he looked upon the wife of his now-dead friend and shipmate.

Officially, the report had been that he died due to his massive amount of injuries sustained due to the fire and was carried off via the current back into the ocean, a fitting funeral for a man so enamored with the sea.

The broken-hearted waitress and the grateful first mate managed to leave the beach in relative silence unsure of what the next day might bring, and mourning the loss amid the grateful celebration for continued survival for the rest of the burning ship's crew.

SIXTEEN YEARS LATER...