THE SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Seven

Coddie Anna watched with concern as her mother continued to gaze over the rail, not at anything in particular, either. It wasn't difficult to tell her mother was unhappy. Cal was not the greatest of choices for a marriage partner--why couldn't her grandmother understand that? Money couldn't always buy happiness. Though it does make life a lot easier, Coddie Anna thought silently.

"Mama?" she asked finally, breaking the awkward silence that had come between them. Rose glanced down, a bit startled by the interruption. "What are you staring at?" Coddie Anna stepped onto the rail so she could get a better look at the lower section of the ship. She saw couples walking aimlessly along the wooden decks, holding hands and talking, or children playing games by the chairs and chasing each other about.

"Oh, nothing." Rose sighed, turning away, folding her arms. If Coddie Anna's mind wasn't playing tricks, she could have sworn her mother's eyes were filled with tears. "I didn't mean to pull you away from the luncheon, honey. I just couldn't take it anymore." She found the closest bench and sat down on it, starting to cry softly. Coddie Anna's mouth hung open--she rarely saw her mother this upset. She immediately sat down on the bench beside her mother and gave her arm an affectionate squeeze.

Rose pulled her daughter into a tight hug and leaned her cheek against her hair affectionately. "You are all I have left to keep me going. When your father died, I felt like a good part of me died along with him. He was so open--so wonderful--he loved me for who I was--he loved us."

Coddie Anna felt hot tears burn in her own eyes. "I miss him, too, Mommy," she whispered. "But I'm still here--I'll always be here--no matter what--"

Rose smiled and gave Coddie Anna a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I know, sweetheart." Coddie Anna pulled a fresh handkerchief from the pocket of her gown and handed it up to her mother.

"Thank you, honey." She wiped her eyes.

Rose chuckled, and nodded. "You always want to hear that story, don't you?"

Coddie Anna grinned, her blue eyes sparkling, and she snuggled up against her mother, sighing with contentment. Rose thought for a moment, gazing ahead, allowing the cool, early afternoon breeze to brush against her cheeks. She told of how Andrew worked as an accountant for her father, and had been coming for frequent visits to the Bukater mansion. Eventually, the two grew so close that Andrew felt it was high time to propose...and he secretly left a letter of proposal under the door.

"Oh, how romantic!" Coddie Anna squealed, and Rose laughed.

"And you said yes, right?"

"Of course! How could I not?"

"And you named me after Papa's mother, right?" she asked.

"Yes, dear, we did."

"I remember Papa teaching me to ride sidesaddle at five years old. He felt that girls should learn that kind of thing young, so that they master it by the time they become ladies. Remember that gray pony we had at Grandma's ranch in Minnesota? Starfleet?" Coddie Anna asked.

"You loved that pony." Rose laughed.

"I should like to ride horses again when we get back to America. The horses are better there." She giggled.

Rose nodded. "Well, dear, let us get back to our cabin. It is starting to get a little chilly out here." She stood up and helped her daughter off of the bench, and started to lead her away, when they both nearly ran into Cal.

"Where have you two been?" he asked coolly.

"Getting some fresh air," Rose replied, just as coolly.

"Do not run out like that again, Rose. Do you understand?" he sneered, and Coddie Anna felt a sudden burst of anger inside of her, and she stepped up so she was only about an inch away from him.

"Leave her alone," she growled.

Rose nudged Coddie Anna's shoulder and gave her a warning look. Cal raised an eyebrow at the child, startled that Coddie Anna had spoken back to him in that tone.

"What have you been teaching her?" he snapped. "Children should learn not to talk back to their elders."

Rose put her arms around her daughter, fear in her eyes. "Don't you dare touch her, or I'll have you arrested," she warned. "Come along, darling." She took Coddie Anna's hand again and the two moved swiftly away. Cal shook his head in disbelief before following in their wake.

*****

"So the ship is nice, eh?" Fabrizio asked Tommy as the group sat down at one of the large wooden tables in the steerage saloon. It was not very crowded, but it was rather smoky as the few patrons in there were smoking cigarettes or pipes. Jack was trying very hard not to let the scents overwhelm him, though his eyes watered badly. Mac and Anastasia chattered away, half-listening to the other conversations going on around them.

"I wonder what first class is like," Mac dreamed. Third class was not terrible, but it was certainly dirtier and more cramped than what she was used to when she lived at Tsarskoe Selo.

"I keep imagining what the Statue of Liberty will look like up close." Anastasia giggled.

"It's very big," Mac told her. "And it's all lit up at night."

"Ooh! Like the great statues in Paris?"

Mac smiled. She'd had the privilege of visiting the French city to see the ballet with the imperial family. Her father had met the famous artist Degas there, who often sat in their box or in the one above, and sketched the dancers. Jack often brought his sketch pad along to the performances, to practice as well.

"Well, sort of," Mac replied finally.

Jack smiled softly at the girls as he coughed slightly and took a sip of his beer. He had no idea what he would do without them--Mac especially. When Alyiah had first died, Jack had given Mac over to his aunt to watch until he had been able to find decent work in order to keep a roof over their heads. Mac had turned four years old when Jack had returned to take her in to live with him, and the two had become very close over the years. Mac was very protective of her father, and he was the same way to her. It had been a certain wonderful turn of events when they had moved in with the Tsar and his family, something that most Russian peasants dreamed of. "God is too high and the Tsar is too far away," was an expression often used.

"Naw. It was built in Ireland. Fifteen thousand Irishman built this ship, ya know. Solid as a rock, yeah."

Fabrizio nodded, a look of slight surprise on his face from the newfound information. Mac turned to her father, wondering why he was being so quiet, and she leaned against his shoulder gently. Jack cocked his head to one side before planting a kiss on the top of her head and caressing her cheek with his hand. Tommy shook his head as he blew out a breath of wispy white smoke from his cigarette.

"It's incredible how much your daughter looks like you, Jack. Though I'm guessing those green eyes came from her mother?"

Jack nodded. "Her eyes and her smile."

Anastasia frowned as she sipped from her glass of soda, feeling slightly homesick, for she knew it would be a long time until she saw her own family again. It was hard watching Jack cuddle with Mac. She missed spending evenings in her mother's boudoir, playing games with her sisters and Alexei, romping around outside on the palace grounds with her father. She and Mac used to play jokes on the guards, yelling "Boo!" and running away before they could turn around in time.

"And that's your niece, eh?" Tommy asked, nodding to Anastasia, who looked up quickly.

Jack glanced at Anastasia and nodded. "Yes, she is."

"Very nice. I'd like children of my own someday, but I'll tell ya--I have no urge to get married. Quite enjoy my independence and bein' able to flirt wit all th' women." Tommy grinned at the girls.

Mac and Anastasia giggled as Tommy proceeded to tell them stories of the husbands in Ireland whose wives chased them from the bars with rolling pins, shouting obscenities at the top of their lungs. Tommy even had Jack laughing, which was rare. Mac always knew that the light had left her father since her mother's death, and he rarely laughed. Alexei seemed to have a charm on Jack, and often made him laugh while they were at the palace. Every now and then Mac managed to do so, but it saddened her when she couldn't.

"So you're saying we shant move to Ireland then?" Anastasia asked, sliding off of her chair and going over to Tommy, peering into his eyes, grinning mischievously. Mac stared, not liking the look on her friend's face at all. Usually when she looked like that she was plotting something fairly evil. He grinned at her and pinched her cheek.

"Ah, we would love ta have ye."

She squealed and giggled, leaping away. "I hate it when people do that! Especially my Aunt…um..." She paused, stepping back and looking at Jack and Mac, her eyes wide, and she suddenly clamped her lips together, refusing to continue.

"Are you all right, lassie?" Tommy asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she squeaked, and sat back down again, taking another sip from her glass, blushing furiously. Mac shook her head and turned back to Tommy.

"So why are you coming to America, Tommy? Any particular reason?"

"It's the land of opportunity, ain't it?" he asked.

"I guess so." Mac shrugged. "I've been in Russia for most of my life. I don't know much about my home country." She looked at her father with a shrug, and he nodded.

"She hasn't been to America since she was four."

"And how old are you now, miss?" Tommy asked.

"Seven."

"Very nice." Fabrizio chuckled.

Eventually, Mac touched her father's arm. "May Anya and I go and explore the ship by ourselves?" she asked hopefully.

Jack raised his eyes, not sure whether or not to allow this. He looked at Anastasia, who was nodding and grinning, her blue eyes twinkling.

"Well--" He paused.

"Oh, please, Papa. Please!" Mac begged. "We'll be good. I promise!"

"We won't get into any scrapes," Anastasia added.

Jack chuckled. "All right. Just stay together, please. Be back before tea. Do you hear me?" He gave Mac a warning look, and she nodded.

"Thank you, Papa!" She grabbed Anastasia's hand and the two girls were off like a shot, much to the amusement of Fabrizio and Tommy, who laughed. Jack set his glass down and looked at his newfound companions.

"Well, I'm going to go and lay down. I have a bit of a headache," he told them.

"All right, Jack. We'll talk to you later, then."

"We'll certainly see you at dinner," Jack agreed, and grabbed his waistcoat, heading out of the saloon.

*****

Callista, Sam, and Michael also had been enjoying luncheon in the saloon, and were startled to see the Grand Duchess and Mac go off on their own. Michael immediately stood up, but Sam pulled him back down in his seat again.

"It's our job to look after her, Sam!" Michael hissed. "Her father would have us all executed if we let something happen!"

"I know that," Sam snapped. "We just can't look too suspicious, and immediately follow them everywhere."

"We know that." Callista sighed.

"But the Tsar will have all of us executed if we let anything happen to his daughter--" Michael began, but Sam cut him off.

"Shh! Are you trying to give her away?" he snapped. "Come on, let's casually get up and leave, and we'll just walk slowly behind them. Get it?" He looked at Callista and Michael seriously, and they nodded quickly. He motioned for them to stand, and they picked up their coats, and walked out of the saloon.

Chapter Eight
Stories