Blood of the Sea

Chapter 7

Date: 12th of July 2083

Time: 8 p.m. New York Time Zone

Location: New York, New York

Epilogue (part 1)

Annabeth pov 

The living room was bustling with life. 37 people had come together today, were talking, eating and drinking joyously together. They were exchanging childhood stories, stories of old teachers, old times, long forgotten days and the pranks they had done, back when they were still young. Some few were chattering quietly about their children, about their daily routines, new jobs, politics. The atmosphere was light.

The table that was covered with a long, light gray tablecloth as well as beautiful and colourful flower decorations, was standing in our living room. Candles and even more flowers, which my children had picked out, were creating a wonderful atmosphere.

Balloons were resting in the corners, forgotten by my great grandchildren who had gone out to play with our dog.

The highlight of the day though was the 3 layered birthday cake that was brought during the early afternoon hours. My granddaughter had made it for me.

As unique and well-made as it was, it must have taken her a day at least, while simultaneously baking for the costumers that were coming to the small café she owned. A dream she had fulfilled herself.

The cake was a delicious masterpiece and only few pieces were left of it.

Dinner had been served as well by now.

So much work and trouble. All because of today. My birthday.

I was broken out of my thoughts as the man besides me started to cough badly, trying to hide as much of the blood in a tissue. Trying to hide the blood from me.

Glancing sadly at the sick figure of the person sitting besides me, melancholy shot through me. I had spent many wonderful years with my husband. We did have a rather calm and easy life.

Only recently, shortly before he turned 87, did he get the diagnosis. Cancer.

He did not have much time left. And neither did I.

Yet, we were not sad.

Looking around the room, I saw my whole family with me. My two children, two beloved sons were talking to each other, exchanging stories from their travels.
My oldest had moved to Europe to study medicine after school. He found his wife in England, working in a hospital as a nurse back in 2042. They got together rather quickly and had two children of their own. The older child, my granddaughter, had no interest in medicine whatsoever though. After finishing school in England, she moved to France. She found her joy in baking.

Wanting to get back to where her family originally came from, she moved back to the states, opening her own small café right around the corner. It was hard work, but it made her happy. Her boyfriend, a cook she had met in France, was supporting her wherever he could. Especially now when her belly was well rounded.

Her brother stayed in the medical field. He works as a laboratorian. Not having settled down yet, he travels all over the world, trying to learn as much as possible.

My other son decided to stay here in New York. He had troubles in school, was nowhere near as good as his brother. But we loved and supported him just as much, if not even more.

Maybe one can imagine our surprise when he found his love for teaching. He had always loathed school, but found that teaching children, trying to do things better were others had once failed him, made him happy.
He stumbled upon his soon-to-be-wife by accident. Literally. He had knocked into her in a busy street and apologized over a cup of coffee. The rest, as they say, is history.