Plans

"And it came to me then
That every plan
Is a tiny prayer
To Father Time..."
Death Cab for Cutie, What Sarah Said

It was a wonderfully uneventful flight, something almost like it was out of a normal life. Gunnar slept, I read my book, and we spent a little bit of time talking about the wedding. Amazingly, he agreed to make an exception to his 'I don't dance' rule.
Oh yeah, Gunnar said he was sure. About us. Or, about me. Marrying me. Maybe "us" was right. Holy shit, he makes me ramble in text, too. How does he fucking do that?
Lemme try that sentence again, this time with coherency.
Gunnar is sure about getting married, which he declared simply and succinctly (I'm not really sure he's practiced in any other method) after our episode in the quicksand: "I'm sure."
I'm a little surprised. Pleasantly, of course. I thought it was going to take more than a couple of days for him to decide, or realize, or whatever happened, that he was certain. He's been pretty consistent about wanting to "do things right," which I figured meant I'd have to rein in my "carpe diem" attitude and settle into being patient. Which I'm still prepared to do, if it takes us a while to get to the altar. I mean, he said he doesn't wanna be the guy who lets the world end just because he's on his honeymoon. I said I wasn't even counting on the world being peril-less long enough to really have a honeymoon. I'm hoping, of course, for something awesome and relaxing and uninterrupted by battles with titanspawn and steel serpents, but I try to stay in the habit of being realistic.
In the vein of being realistic, I'm grimly conscious of the fact that we might not even make it to the altar. If that's what it takes to stop Caleb...
Well, I'm not focusing on that. I'm going to carry on making plans like I'm going to live forever, because fuck twiddling my thumbs while I'm waiting around to die. Also, I plan to live for a good chunk of forever.

Susan doesn't quite see it the same way. She called when the plane touched down, asking how the flight was. I guess Gunter's dog isn't much into hygiene (no dog I've ever had was). Their spring break is coming up next week, and Amanda's going to visit. I wish I could be around for stuff like that, taking them to the beach or the park. Oh well.
I warned her, too, that we might end up in another Terra Incognita on this trip. I don't want them to think we've just disappeared, I want her to know where we've gone and that we're coming back. I asked when the kids get out of school, and if how they'd feel about spending some time in Chicago when me and the guys and Camila are done here in Ireland.
She's sharp, she already understands what being a Scion means. Her response was that they had decided not to really make any plans that far ahead, and I caught something in her voice, something troubled. I don't know if that means she isn't expecting us to come back, or if she's expecting that I won't let them stay at my place, or what but... I wish I could make it different for them. I wish I could give them safety and certainty.
I wish I could give them a future they could plan around.
The trouble in her voice passed, and she said, "Why? Has Gunnar got an even bigger house to put us up in?" She laughed. It was really good to hear someone so young, so troubled and so burdened laugh like that. After a pause, she told me to be careful. "You're a mom now," she reminded me. I didn't really need the reminder. I wish I could be there to do the Mom type stuff, take some of the weight off of her and hear that laugh a little more.
So, when we're done kicking Caleb's ass and ruining every single fucking plan he's got, I'll give Susan the good news.
Because I've got plans.
Plans that currently involve finding some way to get around this island.