Warm sun shone across the porch of Nathaniel West's country style home set in the peaceful suburbs of New York. He sat in his rocking chair dreaming about days past while his dog slept on the porch next to him. The people on his street knew him well because he lived there for sixty years and owned the Forsyth Pottery Company. His story was interesting to many of the neighborhood youth.

Everyone knew him as Nate West, the estranged son of Frederick West who went down on the Titanic. He often told about the love of his life whom he lost when the ship sank and how he married her best friend. Abby knew that Nate loved her. She also knew he never stopped loving Clara even though she died nearly eighty years ago. The children of the block did chores for him they knew his granddaughter and great granddaughter visited every day for that reason but did it anyways.

Nate fidgeted once then fell back asleep and Harley Dune almost hesitated to wake him with the mail. He slowly climbed the white washed steps and tapped the now Ninety-five year old man. Nate opened one eye, smiled warmly then sat up straighter and held out his hand.

"Thank you Harley for waking me, you know how important the mail is to me!" Nate reached in his pocket and dug out a pocket watch and placed it in Harley's hand after Harley handed him the mail.

"Sir, I've told you, you don't have to give me anything!" Harley said politely but Nate shook his head.

"Harley I have no use for this and perhaps if you don't either, sell it for some money." Nate dismissed the smiling young man with a wave of his hand.

As Harley left, Nate flipped through the junk mail then stopped. When he read the name on the envelope his hands began trembling, his heart raced and he struggled to breathe. His great granddaughter, Abby, quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. She was nearing seventeen and looked like Abby did when Nate first met her.

"Grandpa, are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, Abby, thank you for checking...this old heart isn't going to last much longer." He smiled as Abby returned inside the house where she probably went straight to her mother Bridget.

He carefully tore open the sweet smelling envelope the smell was pine...the one he knew as Clara's. Tears welled in his elderly eyes as he pulled out the White Star Line stationary. It looked exactly like the sheets Clara wrote her journal on and as he read the first line he chuckled.

Nathaniel Hollister West,

You've done well and you weren't afraid to get your hands dirty, which is what I hoped you would do. Do not think I put you through this much pain in making you assume I died in the cold Atlantic that night without a purpose. My intentions were innocent as I was praying you would go back to your family. That day that we boarded the Carpathia and you found Jordan, I was there Nate, I watched you from the shadows. When I saw the pain on your face as Jordan told you I died, that pain became my pain. I nearly jumped from my hiding and kissed you, the thought warmed me.

To finish my journal I suppose you need the ending to my story and that is what I am writing to you about...

Clara watched as the water swirled and gurgled closer, she felt Poppet whine as he, too, anticipated what would happen next. Jordan cast another nervous look at her and she suddenly wanted to clutch at him like Abby did to her. Ivy reached out and held on her hand, a sad smile on her face.

"If I don't make it, Clara please, please don't let them have a funeral for me!" Ivy shouted as the water approached only a few feet away and Clara nodded, her legs shook as the icy spray blast against them.

A piece of flying metal rose above the swirling water and Clara ducked in time, as she looked up she saw Ivy fall limp over the rail. Jordan grabbed her and she realized the time had finally come as the water gushed over the railing and sucked her into its current. She panicked and held tight to Poppet's as the water pulled her deeper, her breath slowly ebbed. "I'm not dying like this!" Clara thought as she kicked harder.

Poppet swam frantically towards the surface hauling Clara with him. She felt his lungs heave as he accidentally breathed in. She reached up letting go of Poppet and felt sharp, cold air and she gave a final kick. When she surfaced she saw so many floundering people, the air around her echoed with their terrified screams for help. Looking around she saw Poppet panting and paddling towards her. She fought her way to him and buried her nose in his wet fur as they treaded the water.

The dog began swimming away from the others who were lashing and grabbing onto anything, including her, as she passed. Clara's body trembled with cold, her legs were numb and she could scarcely move her fingers. Ahead of her she spotted a floating deck chair and Poppet seemed intent on reaching it. As she reached out and grabbed it someone knocked into her. Poppet gave hoarse bark and Clara turned.

"S-sorry Clara." Jordan said between chattering teeth and Clara felt overjoyed to hear him.

"W-where's Abby, a-and I-Ivy?" Clara asked as she realized the deck chair wasn't going to help her swim.

"S-she died, I-Ivy did, I-I don't know where Abby is." Jordan looked guilty as he gestured to his lifebelt. Clara understood without asking, Jordan found Ivy and took her lifebelt...it was fair in a time like this.

Clara didn't know if she moved her legs or not as the cold penetrated her skin, her muscle and what felt like her bones. Poppet panted heavily and Clara felt him shivering. She feared he would freeze. Jordan swam closer to her and they treaded the water together, their lifebelts keeping them afloat.

"If, if the rescue ship comes and I am s-still alive don't tell Nate, Jordan, p-promise me you won't t-tell Nate!" Clara couldn't keep her teeth from chattering and Jordan squeezed her hand.

The dark surrounded them, the stars were bright overhead but it was a new moon, the survivors had nothing to see by. Clara floated in silence next to Jordan and Poppet, her mind on the future. She wouldn't let death take her. She wouldn't let fate win after so many times of losing. Thoughts about Nate and the love they had, the love they could still have if, when, she was rescued haunted her. Swallowing her concern, Clara suddenly turned and began paddling.

Jordan trailed behind her, he held onto her lifebelt strap with Poppet lunging next to her. Jordan didn't speak and Clara wondered if he could. Her throat felt frozen, it hurt to swallow. "I will not die," Clara said to herself with each stroke and at first she thought she imagined it. As the voices pleading for help slowly began dying Clara made out the shape of a lifeboat. She began hysterically swimming the motion brought little warmth to her body.

"Here, here!" Clara squeaked and someone must have heard her for the boat pulled alongside her.

"Miss, is there any one with you?" Someone asked and Clara simply nodded her head hoping they saw her.

"Not without my dog." Clara whispered as several arms tried plucking her from the water.

"Your dog probably went down with the ship, miss, now come."

"Not without my dog," Clara slapped the water next to her and Poppet paddled against the boat. Someone swore as they saw the dog, the boat rocked while another person pulled Poppet into it. Clara blacked out temporarily as they hauled her aboard. Jordan soon followed.

They weren't happy that we brought my dog, all this time and I haven't seen any documentation of him saved from the Titanic. I suppose to them a dog wasn't worth writing about but I dearly hope when you publish this journal they will understand.

After they searched for more survivors, and finding very few, we returned to row with the other boats. I still do not know what boat it was that picked us up. I wish I had so I may thank those who saved Poppet. Jordan sat close to me and we lent each other our body heat, though it didn't do much. I told him then, Nate, I told him if you chose my dream over your family, to direct you to our pottery shop. In all honesty I did not believe Jordan would remember the address, truthfully I hoped he wouldn't.

You never thought you would see me again did you, Nate? Oh, but you did, didn't you, that day the Carpathia docked in New York. You thought you saw Poppet and I, our ghosts happy at last as though you brought our souls home? I found no other way off the ship and figured it best to make you assume you saw the paranormal. During the voyage home, Poppet and I found ourselves hiding with the steerage passengers of the Carpathia. They understood the situation once I explained and were more than willing to lend us the floor.

When you finally showed up at the pottery shop I was amazed that Jordan remembered. He would return later and after a time, ask me to marry him and I found no reason to decline. By then you already asked Abby to be your wife and I knew, I knew it was past time that I move on. Alas I keep wandering from my story. Old age will do so to a person, even one such as I.

I watched you from the banister when you told Stewart you loved me and had planned on marrying me once we reached New York. I nearly showed myself then but it was some strand of sheer will power that kept me back. When you fell asleep with my portrait in your arms I cried. You whispered my name as I kissed you goodbye, a kiss I wanted more of but I left you instead.

You have a son, Nate, a son whom entered the world eight months after the sinking of the Titanic. You will find him today, almost seventy-five and a father of a swell family, he will still accept you. He knows, Nathaniel Hollister West Jr. knows about his father and what I did. I ask that you find no anger towards me, I regret few things but one thing I wished I had done was stay with you.

I am still amazed that Ivy managed to hand off my journal pages to Abby in those last few moments. Bless her, she was my dearest friend made and lost in such a short time!

Now you know what happened to me and I hope that you will be able to close this story at long last. My time runs short and I hope that you will find me soon, that we will be able to hold each other once again. Until that time, I wait by the window remembering our days aboard the Titanic. I love you Nate, I promise. When I make a promise I keep it, when I say I love you, I mean it.

Forever and Always,

You're mule-minded,

Clara Forsyth

Nate brushed the tears out of his eyes and when he flipped the envelope over he recognized the address. She had lived only blocks away, this entire time and she was right behind him, his living shadow. More tears streamed down his face as he began to laugh about the irony of it all.

"Bridget, please start the car, we have an errand to run."

Nate slowly rose to his feet and stuffed the letter in the pocket that covered his heart. Only a few more moments and he would finally see Clara again. He would finally hold her close like there was no tomorrow.

"What is it Nate, did you get more coupons?"

Bridget asked as she slipped her sweater on and grabbed her keys from the door peg.

"Oh much better than that, here, read this." Nate tenderly handed the letter to Bridget who read it in awe.

"Well let's hurry then, I'm anxious to meet this woman whom I've heard so much about!" Bridget smiled as she helped Nate into the car and shut the door; little Abby crawled in the backseat.

Ten minutes later they pulled into the drive of a well-kept, two-story town house that was painted a pale blue. An elderly man sat rocking on the porch with two children playing quietly around his feet. He shielded his eyes as Nate opened the door and placed his walker before him.

"May I help you, sir?" The man asked as he, too, rose and waited for Nate to climb the steps.

"Is this the home of Clara Forsyth?"

A caring, concerned smile swept across the man's face as he nodded, his chin bobbing.

"Was, she's no longer here I'm afraid, are you an old friend?"

"Are you my son?" Nate replied then smiled as shock flittered across the other man's face.

"If you're Nathaniel West, then yes." He motioned for Nate to come closer, his eyes filled with tears.

"You look just like I did when I was your age, where's Clara? I've waited over eighty years to see her."

Nate Jr. lowered his head and stared at his two grandchildren who were now conversing excitedly with Abby.

"She died a few days back. We had her funeral just yesterday. I'm sorry, she said you might come and she said if you did to show you inside." Jr. took Nate by the arm and led him into the house.

"My mother never stopped talking about you. She loved to tell me tales about how she left pottery in the shop. She said she was surprised you never caught on, I think Richard hid them from you." Jr. gestured up the stairs and Nate winced in pain as he followed.

"Did she stay in good health?"

"Till the day she died, though we never did get her to go swimming but I assume that is understandable. I am glad that we finally got to meet, father." Jr. said as he opened a door then stood aside.

Nate fell quiet as he hobbled into the room that smelled so much like Clara it literally pained him. Her bed was well made, pictures of people hung across the wall and different Titanic memorabilia decorated an entire cabinet.

"She collected everything she could that had to do with that ship. She said it was because that was the best time of her life. My mother hung on as long as she could, hoping to see you again. I'll give you some time." Jr. said then quietly closed the door leaving a teary eyed Nate to stare.

He went over to a shelf that had pottery on it and was shocked to find several of his best pieces that he thought were stolen. He fingered them tenderly as more tears rolled down his cheeks and into his jacket collar. How he missed Clara and in his mind he almost heard her laugh. The plate he made in her memory was what pushed him over the edge. Written in gold lettering with the Titanic as the background were the words: When I say I love you I mean it, when I make a promise I keep it, I love you Clara Forsyth.

"I miss you so much, I came as quickly as I could but fate isn't so nice to us." Nate whispered as he sunk to his knees clutching his heart, which pounded faster and ached terribly.

"Fate's no lady, Nate." Clara's voice pounded through his head and he reached out his hand feeling like she was standing there, he closed his eyes. A warm hand covered his and that sweet smell of pine overcame him.

"It's time. I'm tired of being away from you." Nate whispered then smiled as he closed his eyes for a final time.

Nathaniel Hollister West died that day and it is said that he waited for that letter almost as though he knew it was long in the coming. His family accepted Nathaniel Hollister West Jr. as one of their own. Nate was buried next to Clara in a graveyard facing the sea with stone in the shape of the ship. Written under their names was their slogan: When I say I love you I mean it, when I make a promise I keep it, I promise I love you.

It was the perfect ending for a couple who overcame the odds to finally win against Fate.

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Honestly, I was debating nixing this conclusion because I didn't know if I liked it, but Emma (my good friend Dreaming_Love) convinced me to post it.

Hope you enjoyed,

x zuz