Waterbound

1932

Winter

~~~

Sarah wasn't surprised to find Cal shoveling snow from the walk in front of Kate's house when she had arrived one morning to visit her friend. Some part of her knew that he would find Kate the moment they were both free—ignoring the fact that Hugh was still alive and still legally Kate's husband. But she was surprised that Cal hadn't bothered paying her a visit first. For as long as she had known him, he had always stopped by her house first and foremost.

She berated him for his oversight and he claimed that he had been on his way to see her just before she arrived. Sarah didn't entirely believe it but as it was the first time in her life that Cal looked genuinely happy, she couldn't be angry.

With Kate back in her home, money was less tight than before but their situation was no less worrying. Pat was still unable to find a job and John was forced to continue at the mill. Sarah knew how much he hated working there but she couldn't think of any other way. Food had to be put on their table somehow. They had all seen the lines of hungry men queuing up outside of the Salvation Army, desperate for handouts. The thought of being forced to join those men was unthinkable.

Sarah looked at Kate's recipe for the hundredth time and frowned. She had been trying to make biscuits, trying to follow the written instructions word for word, but what was in her bowl didn't look like it was supposed to. She stuck a finger into it. "This can't be right." What she had was still sticky and wet. She scooped another cup of flour and dumped it in. It was twice the amount of flour as was written down but she didn't know what else to do. Kate wasn't anywhere nearby to help her fix the mess.

She jumped as Pat suddenly put his arms around her from behind. She hadn't even heard him enter the kitchen.

"What are ye makin'?" He asked, his lips lightly brushing her cheek. Despite the continuing unemployment, he had been in a good mood ever since Hugh left.

"Biscuits," Sarah replied. "I think."

"Those are biscuits?"

She removed his arms from around her and playfully pushed him away. "They're supposed to be and I doubt you could do any better."

"And are they supposed to look so—"

Sarah scooped up a handful of flour and flung it at him.

"Oh, so that's how it is then?" Pat reached for a handful of flour, but she snatched the container and moved just out of his grasp.

They locked eyes for a moment and Sarah winked mischievously.

Pat lunged forward, and she eluded him, laughing, as they circled the kitchen table. He finally caught her, picking her up, and she let out a joyful shriek as she dropped the container of flour. Gently lowering her to the ground, amid the cloud of white that seemed to hang in the air, he kissed her.

Sarah leaned into him, her hands sliding up his chest. "You know, none of the children are home."

"Aye? Ye thinkin' about makin' another one?"

She laughed. "You know I'm forty five, right? I think Eileen was it for us."

"Forty-five, perhaps, but yer more beautiful now than the very first day I laid eyes on ye."

She knew he wasn't referring to the lifeboat as he didn't remember that meeting. "You mean on the Carpathia ? I can only imagine what I must've looked like that day."

"Ye looked beautiful."

"Let's see. I had just survived a shipwreck, hadn't slept in days, certainly hadn't brushed my hair, deep in grief...I don't think beautiful was the word for it," Sarah replied. "But that was twenty years ago. I bet you don't even remember what I looked like."