It's My Life

Of all the people Anna expected to see in the tavern that night, Anamaria wasn’t one of them. Be that as it may, however, she was there, and alone. That worried Anna a little, and when she took a break from singing, she went to find out what was going on.

“Given up on married life already, have you? That was quick. What’s the problem?”

“Different expectations. Isn’t that always the problem?”

“In some form or other, I suppose so. Where’s Josiah?”

“Oh, he’s off somewhere. Probably trying to figure out how to get back to Nassau. He’s decided he’s not up for being married to a pirate, and that being a cooper in a den of pirates isn’t what he wants either.”

“I see. Are you at least still speaking to each other?”

“Sure. We’re still friends, and all. Friends with privileges, even. Just not married. We had it annulled.”

“Jack’s going to like that.”

“Oh, don’t remind me! He’s going to be insufferable. I’ll be hearing about how he told me so for the next year.”

“Only if you let him. I’ve seen you slap him before. Even so, I’ll see what I can do about it.” Anamaria looked skeptical.

“He’ll listen to you? You must have some pretty decent blackmail material on him. No chance of your sharing it, is there?”

“I don’t have blackmail, but I have the occasional valid point. Living here isn’t like living on the Pearl; it gives me a different perspective.”

“True enough. At least you know there’s a difference.” Anamaria would have punctuated the statement with a swig of whatever she was drinking, except the tankard in her hand turned out to be empty.

“Rum, is it?”

“Port, actually. It’s a night for not thinking, not for a roaring drunk.” Anna refilled the tankard and set it down on the table.

“Well, enjoy your not thinking. Time I started singing again. Oh, and eat something if you haven’t already, or it’ll be a roaring drunk before you know it.”

“Already taken care of. Listen, do me a favor and sing something that isn’t about love?”

“I can do that.” Anna went back and sang most of the bawdy songs she knew, with the exception of the one about the cooper. Once she had finished the first one, the crowd wanted more of them. By the time she had gotten through her repertoire, her voice was going, and Anamaria had gone. It took Anna another hour and a half to get the rest of the tavern’s patrons out so she could close the place, and once she had, all she wanted to do was go home and fall over.

“Oh, hell, I hope Jack got that bed out of here. Otherwise I’m going to go home and fall over on the floor, and that’ll hurt.” She toyed with the idea of going up to her old room and seeing if the bed was still there, but the idea of climbing up the stairs put her off, and she left without bothering. “If he didn’t get me a bed, he can bloody well loan me a hammock.”

It was late enough that most of the people who were out in the streets were lying there sleeping off their liquor, and the rest were easily spotted. Anna got back home without incident, and stopped dead in the doorway. Jack had taken care of the furniture, all right. The room she was standing in looked like a rummage sale in a Turkish bazaar. Every available surface had something exotic and probably expensive on it, and the available surfaces included a gilded bookcase, a carved table and something that might have been a chair, but was covered with some sort of fabric that looked like the results of a riot in a vegetable market. It was all splotches of various colors, most of which clashed horribly.

“Right. For future reference, Jack is colorblind,” she muttered. “I’ll kill him. In the morning.”