It's been ten years since the last time I saw her, my beautiful, darling Mariel. Those years have passed both slowly (due to my loss of Mariel) and quickly (thanks to Jack).

Jack, who has been so understanding during the entirety of it, and realizing his place as second in my heart, is standing beside me at the train station, curious chestnut eyes glancing upwards at the ceiling, which is coated in a carpet of spider webs. I glance up at him fondly, then return my attention to the arriving train, where my sweet Mariel will be arriving. Unfortunately, her mother, Perdita, will be escorting her. God, I despise Perdita with an ultimate passion that I can't describe in words. Sure, it didn't start with my hating her… but it eventually grew into that, because of her having a relationship with Mariel that I couldn't grasp, and because of her stealing Mari away from me.

Again, I hate Perdita.

Ten long, hard years.

Jack puts a hand on my shoulder and gently massages my neck, soothing the tension that followed thoughts of Perdita. He knows me better than I do, almost, which is wonderful, but I feel guilty about placing him second after Mariel.

"Spot," He says softly, "Calm down. She'll be here soon."

I wonder if the dejection in his voice is my imagination or not.

A train whistle sounds, and it makes me jump. "Is that Mari's train?" I ask, and Jack nods, smiling.

"I think so," he says, then takes my wrist in his callused hand and leads me to the deck where the train will unload. I can't help but bounce excitedly, like a toddler at Christmas, when the doors open and passengers begin to get off.

It seems as if millions of people have to unload before I finally catch a glimpse of a woman who resembles Perdita. Urgh. It would have to be Perdita I see first, wouldn't it? Perdita, with her silky black hair and deep blue eyes… not the same blue as mine, but still… too blue to be beautiful.

Perdita steps daintily off the train, her turned-up nose in the air, as if she smells something that displeases her, and she probably does.

Clinging to her hand is my Mariel. I let out a cry and run forward, Jack laughing at my excitement as I leave him behind, running to my sweet, dearest Mariel, falling to my knees before her, and sweeping her into my arms.

I remember holding her when she was just an infant, looking into eyes she inherited from her grandfather, my father, deep brown eyes that resemble Jack's. My sweet girl, with my baby-fine hair, that dark-blonde color that had made Perdita melt that one drunken night fifteen years ago.

Mariel stares at me for a moment, then puts her hands in my hair. She's a beautiful young woman of fifteen, her hair tied into a pink ribbon that both accentuates and diminishes her maturity.

"Papa?" She asks, and the sound of her voice breaks me; I clutch her head to my heart, stroking her hair, holding her close. Perdita, watching the reunion with her head still high, snorts softly and starts to the front of the train, for a reason unknown.

Mariel pushes me away, and straightens her hair, studying me. Now that she's older, there are more obvious similarities between her and myself; the nose, the slope of shoulder, the regal brow… she's such an exquisite young woman, I have to fight to keep from crying with pride. She looks at me and smiles. "It's been a long time, Papa," she says, her words careful.

"Too long, Mari."

"Ten years."

"Yes. Ten long, painful years. You will be staying with me now?"

She hesitates, looking back at her mother, then smiling cautiously at me. "Uh… I don't think so, Papa."

I freeze, still clutching her shoulders. "…What?"

"I don't think I'll be staying, Papa. I'd rather be with Mama."

I shake her, desperate. "What has Perdita been telling you, girl? Has she told you things about me?"

Mari stares at me with wide, frightened eyes. "Papa.."

"Has she?"

"Yes, Papa!" Mariel admits. "Scary things." She wriggles out of my hands. "Things I don't want involved in."

I'm silent for a moment, staring at the ground. "Mari… I love you, Mariel Collins-Conlon. My sweet daughter."

"I'm going to a prep school in Maine, Papa. Will you be proud of me?" She asks after a split-second hesitation.

"I'm always proud of you, Mari. Will you keep writing like you did before?" By before, I mean before the short, concise letters that started to come earlier this year. I assume that's when her mother started to tell her things. "If you're on your way to Maine, what are you doing here?"

"Stretching my legs." She says airily, taking a shawl from her purse and placing it over her shoulders, my shoulders. "Mama says a lady needs exercise…"

"And how would your mother know what a lady needs?" I mutter in dismay.

She either doesn't hear or decides to ignore me. "And this seemed as good a place as any." She studies me. "I was curious as to how my father had changed anyhow."

"And how have I changed?"

"Very little." The smile on her face is genuine. She throws a glance over her shoulder, then leans down and kisses my forehead. "Papa, I love you. Even if everything Mama says is true, I still love you." She kisses me again. "Because you were always so gentle to me."

"Mariel! Mariel, hurry!" Perdita's voice shakes me from the perfect moment, and Mariel smiles at me again, then boards the train, waving. I stand on shaking legs as the whistle sounds again, and Jack grabs my arm to steady me. The train pulls forward, and Mari waves again from her seat by the window. I manage to wave back, and once the train becomes a dot in the distance, I lean my head against Jack's chest.

"She's perfect." I say, and he holds me. "A perfect young lady."

"She said she's going to a prep school?" Jack asks. "She'll be doing fine, Spot. Don't worry about her."

"I don't." I answer. "She's my daughter. A Conlon. And why should I worry about the smartest, bravest, most beautiful girl in the world?"

Jack smiles and puts an arm around my shoulders as we leave the station.

He may hold second in my heart after Mari, but he's still pretty damn perfect.

If Mari continues to write and do well, I can do without.

My Mariel.

My pride.

My joy.

My most beautiful daughter.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE***

I just needed something to write, and heard the phrase 'Most beautiful girl in the world' in a song this morning, referring to the singers tiny daughter, and I was like 'Awww!', so I wrote this. ^_^;; I think it sucks, but… hey. I was overdue for something to write. Shut up. ^_^;