Summary: After so many years, Adam is coming home.
Word Count: 550
Adam stared at the paper on the desk before him. The pen ready, his hand hovered over the white sheet. But the words didn’t come. What would one write after so many years? I’m sorry? He was sorry, well, in a way. But he’d rather tell Joe that face to face.
So much had happened since he had left the Ponderosa, there was so much he had to tell Joe. But not in a letter—especially since the letter wouldn’t be in Virginia City before he’d be there, too.
No, he’d just write a telegram to announce his arrival. He was lucky the ship offered a telegram service to all passengers.
Arrival at Virginia City April 22nd-stop-Big Brother-stop
Adam smiled. If this wouldn’t drive Joe up the wall, he didn’t know what would do the trick. Joe had always complained Adam was leaving out more than he actually said in letters. And Adam had always replied he was saying the important and leaving out the irrelevant. Of course, this time he was leaving out some important things, too. Like why he had decided to travel home now, and not ten or twenty years earlier. Or like what he had done all those years. But again, these were things he’d like to tell Joe face to face.
Joe. How old was he now? Seventy. Great god, his baby brother was an old man just like he himself. Adam wondered if Joe still had his unruly shock of curls. He ran his hand over his own bald head and sighed.
He fervently wished Mary would stand behind his chair, like she had done so many times, planting a kiss on the top of his head and teasing him, “At least I don’t need a mirror anymore. I can see myself clear as the day!” Of course, this had been before the illness had stolen her beauty. After that she had never talked about mirrors anymore. She hadn’t talked much anyway from the day they had discovered she would die an untimely and ugly death until the moment she had left this world in her own quiet, dignified way.
Maybe he would tell Joe all about this as well. Just like he would tell him about the good things: His children, his grandchildren, his house at the seafront in Brighton, his library. All right, perhaps Joe wouldn’t want to hear about the library. But there was so much more to share. And he would listen to Joe’s tales about his life and his losses, about the Ponderosa and about Virginia City.
They’d catch up with everything. They’d have all the time in the world.
Adam looked at the paper again and—still the orderly businessman—added the date, April 14th, 1912. He stroked his thumb over the emblem in the right upper corner of the paper sheet. What a very fitting name for this ship that would take him home: Titanic.
“As I was put into the boat, he cried to me, ‘It’s all right, little girl. You go. I will stay.’ As our boat shoved off he threw me a kiss, and that was the last I saw of him.” ~ Mrs. Warner Marvin, survivor