{ Nonverbal Starters }

His presence so often calmed her that his arrival now did little to bring shame into her heart. He had seen her crumble before and never once had he offered judgement. Today was no different as he came and crouched before her, holding her hands until she gathered herself. So often this was all it took – a gentle touch and a sense that it would be alright, over time. 

Her hands tightened in his, for today was her father’s seventh birthday in the afterlife – and his first where she had completely forgotten her tradition to visit the sea and speak with him. Her days were so filled with wonderful routines now – meditation, work, writing, her calligraphy practice and of course, the hand to hand training Joji had walked her through today. 

It was more of the same motions she was growing ever more used to, but there had been a new form incorporated today and she’d become so consumed with memorizing it and working it into her present forms at practice, before heading to work, that somehow today had become – just another day. It had not been until she had gone to cross off her calendar at work that it had struck her, and surely seven years was hardly enough time for a daughter to forget her father! Let alone all else that had been lost in the fires that had consumed Charlestown. 

She had tried to tell herself then – so as not to break apart at work – that it was understandable. She was allowed to move on, to acknowledge the past and the dead when it suited her and to live her life without being consumed by her ghosts. And it was enough, to get her outside and to the table where Joji would meet her to take her home – but business with Mr. Gallenger must have run late, for he was not there. 

She had sat, and acknowledged the true reason she was upset wasn’t that she didn’t believe those things. It was that she hadn’t made the choice on purpose. There was a difference between deliberately moving past her father’s birthday and somehow – somehow forgetting it entirely. Even just this once. 

She had not meant to cry, and she hated feeling guilty over something so arbitrary as respecting a day that had always been so selfish in life. Her father’s birthdays were always cordial affairs, with business partners and their wives coming to call for entertainment and discussion, often bringing new connections for him to meet on his special day as though these people were, in and of themselves, a gift just to talk to the once. 

And her father never hesitated to treat them that way, so she learned the importance and value of networking would always outweigh whatever small thing Abigail managed to purchase or make for him – but she never found melancholy, for when the guests had taken their leave and the hour was late, her father would always find her in the garden or the library, wherever she had sequestered herself away from the din, and gather her into his arms as if she were his greatest gift. It was her favorite part of the day, and had been all of her life. 

Perhaps that was why she was so keen to remember it – when she had been so wounded by his wrong doings she had forgotten so much of his goodness. Missing his goodness that first year had made her feel guilty for all his wrongs, and she’d had quite the bitter things to say to the sea that day. But the second year, she had missed him in all his faults and goodness, and she had wept by the sea for hours, mourning him – and mourning for herself, as well, for all she had lost and all that she feared. Being alone had been so very terrible, that second year. 

It had been a different emotional journey every time she had gone to the sea to talk to him. On his birthday, and on two Christmases when she could bear the loneliness of them no longer, and even once on an Easter because she had been so boggled by the fact she was excited to work that day – and it was because she wouldn’t have to be alone. 

This was the first time she had not felt any compulsion to honor him or talk to him, and it had caught her by complete surprise. Holding on to Joji’s hands, she supposed it was the surprise that shocked her most – it made sense, in a way, that she no longer felt so obliged. It was very much due to this man, who had done so much to make sure she wasn’t alone, that she was perhaps finally moving beyond the past.

“Sorry,” She couldn’t help but excuse herself, even though she knew he didn’t mind her tears like others did. They didn’t offend him, not in the least, and there were no true words for how much that meant to her. “I just had a bit of a shock – but I’m alright,” She promised, smiling for him and knowing deep down that her words were true. She was alright – and she would continue to be so. 

She considered going down to the beach after all, but in the end she shook her head. It was time to make the choice – and she rather liked the notion that this year could mark the start of moving on. Squeezing his hands, she let out a breath before slowly rising to her feet. “I’d best get home – I’d hate to miss my evening meditations.” She could start them late, but then she’d get to sleep late, and she’d hate herself in the morning for it.