Remembering the Titanic (22 page)

A train rumbled by overhead, making it impossible for Elizabeth to be heard. When it had passed, she said quietly, “I’m sorry, Mother. I guess I didn’t realize … you all seemed fine after a while. All of the women. You all went shopping and to concerts and plays, and I thought you were all doing amazingly well. I’m sorry.”

“That’s just how we do things.” Nola paused, then pleaded, “Elizabeth, if you’ll just come home, I promise you things will change. I’ll be different. You can go to Vassar and you can do as you please. I won’t interfere.”

“Mother…”

“I know you don’t believe me. I don’t blame you. But it’s true.”

Elizabeth decided Nola
did
mean it. Now. At this moment, in this place, her mother meant every word she was saying. But once back in the Murray Hill house, the old behavior would take over. Nola couldn’t help it. The time would approach for Elizabeth to leave and if her mother didn’t actually have an “episode,” she’d come up with some other reason why Elizabeth should “wait a while” before leaving for Poughkeepsie. Perhaps she’d bring up her daughter’s promise to her father. She would think of something. That was just who she was.

“I’m not coming home, Mother. I’m sorry. But…” Elizabeth saw her father’s face as Max had painted him. Brave. Sad. But trusting as he gazed out upon the departing lifeboats that his wife and daughter would survive, would be all right, would go on with their lives when he could not go on with his. “But I will come to see you. Before I leave for Poughkeepsie. And when I come back to the city on weekends. Perhaps we could even go shopping once in a while. Not
every
weekend, though.” She smiled. “I don’t have the stamina that you have.”

It was almost impossible for Nola to admit defeat. “But it’s so much nicer at home. This place…” She glanced around again. “It’s not very clean, is it? You could stay at home just until you leave for school.”

“No, it’s not very clean. But Anne doesn’t mind. Nor do I, although,” Elizabeth smiled, “I had thought about straightening up a bit while she’s out.” The finality in her voice was unmistakable.

A light died in Nola’s eyes. Just as quickly, another appeared, proving her resilience. “You really will visit me on a weekend now and again? You’re not just saying that so I’ll leave now, are you?”

“Mother, I wouldn’t lie about something like that. I meant it.”

Nola’s eyes filled with tears. “And you won’t forget?”

“I won’t forget. Why don’t we make a date right now, while you’re here? There’s a calendar somewhere in all this mess.” Elizabeth found the calendar, smeared with dried jelly and coffee stains. “There, the last weekend in January, why not then? That will give me two weeks to get settled on campus. I’ll telephone you and let you know how things are going, and we can make plans.” But,” she warned, “
no
dinners at the Winslows, can we agree on that?”

Nola said with a straight face, “Oh, but they’re so fond of
you
. Especially Betsy.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Promise me, Mother.”

Nola nodded. “I promise. All right then, the last weekend in January. I shall look forward to it. And perhaps,” she said, turning toward the door, “next summer when there are no classes, you might think about joining me in Atlantic City. Max could go with Jules and Enid and then we’d all be there together, wouldn’t that be fun, dear?”

Elizabeth smiled. That was Nola, trying to sweeten the pot by tossing in Max, when not so long ago she hadn’t wanted him anywhere in sight. “I may look for a job next summer, Mother. For the experience. But well see. Atlantic City is always fun. We can talk about it later. Now I really should clean up around here a bit before Anne gets back.”

Nola took the hint. Though she was hurt and probably, if the truth were known, angry that she hadn’t accomplished what she’d come there to do, she did give Elizabeth a hug. The hug, Elizabeth knew, was a way for Nola to pretend she’d gained more ground than she actually had. But that was all right. Elizabeth wanted the hug, too.

She stood in the doorway watching her elegantly dressed mother cautiously descend the shabby wooden steps, glancing around her the whole time, as if afraid a thief might at any moment jump out and snatch her purse out of her hands. Nola Farr in a shabby building under the el … now there was a sight Max would never paint. He’d shrug and say, “Who would believe it?”

That night, she related to him, in careful detail, every moment of her mother’s astonishing visit. “You helped,” she said when she had finished. “I don’t know what you said to her, she didn’t tell me. But it made a difference. She didn’t argue half as long as she usually does.”

“I wasn’t rough on her, if you’re worried about that.” They were in his apartment, alone, on his old davenport, Elizabeth in his arms, leaning against his chest. “I guess I would have been, before the unveiling. But that business about the paintings, I guess it showed me how differently everyone has dealt with what happened out there on the ocean. Everyone grieves in a different way, seems to me. Maybe that’s why people have such a hard time talking about it. We’re all thinking differently. No common ground, though you’d think that’s exactly what we have, since we were all
there
. We all went through it. But we reacted differently.” He looked down at Elizabeth, comfortably nestled in his arms. “Are you worried that you’ve broken your promise to your father?”

“No. Because he was wrong about my mother. He thought she needed taking care of, because that’s how their marriage was. And it worked, for them. But it isn’t true. Whether she marries again or not, she can take care of herself. I believe that. She said as much herself, at Alan’s. And I think as long as I don’t shut her out of my life completely, which I don’t intend to do, she’ll be fine.”

Max sat up straight and fished something out of his jacket pocket. “Speaking of marriage…” He held out a small, navy blue velvet box. “This was my grandmother’s. She left it to me.” He opened the box, revealing a simple but beautiful solitaire diamond set in a gold band. “I want you to marry me, Elizabeth. We can get a better apartment, if you want. I have my grandmother’s money. And you can still go to Vassar, still do all the things you want. A weekend marriage is fine with me, for now. Will you?”

Elizabeth took the box from him. “Oh, Max, it’s beautiful! I love it. But … but marriage? Now?” She loved Max with all her heart. She couldn’t have made it through these past months without him. But it had taken her so long to work up enough courage to leave her mother’s house, to be on her own, to make her own life. She would hardly be on her own if she married Max. She would have a husband. No wife she had ever met could be considered “on her own,” though she supposed there were those who were more independent. The women who marched for the vote, who spoke at rallies … some of them must be married. But not knowing any of them personally, she couldn’t say how their marriages were.

Max looked hurt, and disappointed. “You don’t want to marry me?”

“Yes, of course I do.” She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him. “It’s just … well, could we be engaged now but wait a while to marry? Would that be all right? I love you so much, Max, but I know I’m not ready to be married. Could I just be a student first? There is so much I need to learn before I can be a wife.”

He looked uncertain. “What if you meet someone else up in Poughkeepsie? Someone you like better?”

“Better than
you
?” Elizabeth laughed softly. “Oh, Max, don’t be silly! There
isn’t
anyone I could like better than you …
love
better than you. There just isn’t.” She took the ring from its box and put it on her left hand. Then she lifted his hand and put it to her cheek. “I promise,” she said solemnly, “that I will marry you. If you will promise to wait until I’m ready.”

With the ring on her finger, Max seemed to relax, just a bit. “I promise, though I can’t say I’m happy about it. How do I know you won’t change your mind? You might become one of those women your mother’s always going on about, the ones who have no use for men. You could decide never to marry anyone.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Elizabeth said seriously. “I have to marry. I’m sure I will need furniture moved one day.”

Max, who was familiar with all of Anne’s sayings, threw his head back and laughed.

Then, to seal their engagement, he kissed Elizabeth thoroughly.

I
T WAS
M
ARY WHO
called Paddy on Christmas Eve to tell him Katie was in the hospital. “ ’Tis her I’m owin’,” she said with tears in her voice. “She saved me only child, she did, and she needs to see you, Paddy. It ain’t John she wants, it’s you. She don’t know I’m callin’. You’d best get yourself out here to the hospital quick as a wink. But,” she added quickly, “she can’t talk. You can’t be expectin’ her to. Her voice is gone. Not for all time, the doctors say, but for now. The smoke … still and all,
you
can talk to
her
.” Mary’s voice hardened. “You can tell her how sorry it is you are for bein’ faithless with that Belle person, takin’ her to Coney Island when you knew full well Katie thought of it as your special place.” She explained then that Katie had been there that night, too, had seen Paddy with Belle, how heart-broken she had been. “Still is, if you ask me.”

He was in Katie’s hospital ward within the hour. Looking disheveled from the rush, carrying a brown paper bag in his hands, he burst into the long, narrow room filled with white beds and waved Lottie and Malachy, sitting beside Katie’s bed, away. “She can’t talk,” Lottie warned as they left. “Don’t be arguin’ with her.”

He had no intention of arguing with her. He dropped into a chair and took both of her hands in his. She looked terrible. Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, her skin grayish. One arm was bandaged above the elbow. “Are you all right, then?” he asked. According to Mary’s account of the fire, he could just as easily have been looking at a corpse. The thought made him sick. He couldn’t have stood it, had she died in that house. “We need to be talkin’, Katie. I know you’re not feelin’ well, but we got to get some things straight.”

She shook her head, touching her throat.

“I know. You can’t talk. Mary told me.” He dumped the contents of the brown paper bag on the white sheet covering Katie. Wooden alphabet blocks, twenty-six of them, the letters painted in white on all sides but one, on which there was a drawing of an animal or a toy. “I stopped at Mary’s on the way here … they’re stayin’ with Lottie and Malachy until Agnes’s house is fixed up … and borrowed these. Bridget’s here, too, in the kiddies’ ward, and doin’ fine, Mary says. She won’t be missin’ these until she goes home. Lottie said I could use them.” Paddy leaned closer to Katie. “I need to ask you some questions, Katie-girl, need to in the worst way. I was thinkin’, you could use the blocks to answer, if you’re feelin’ up to it. Are you?”

She nodded.

“All right, then.” He lined up the blocks on her sheet, four uneven rows of them, wobbling slightly but their letters clearly visible. “Here’s the first question. Do you hate me, then?”

Katie lifted her uninjured arm to point.
NO

“And is it John Donnelly you’re wantin’ in your life now?”

NO

He heaved a sigh of relief. Taking her hands in his again, he said, “Mary was tellin’ me you saw me with Belle at Coney Island. We was only talkin’ about the writin’. Her beau came along with us. He was there, too. You must have come upon us when he was off finding somethin’ for us to eat.” He shook his head. “Why did you not tell me? You could have telephoned, told me what you was thinkin’. I’d have told you the truth. So that’s my next question. Why didn’t you tell me what you was thinkin’?”

The hand moved again. It pained Paddy that it moved so slowly, that Katie had so little strength.
STUBBORN

Paddy smiled. “You?” he asked. “Or me?”

BOTH

“Aye, that’s the truth. I could have come to talk to you, find out for myself why you wasn’t talkin’ to me, and I didn’t. It was ’cause I thought you was better off without me, you doin’ so well and all.”

She shook her head and pointed.
NOT WELL

Nodding, Paddy said, “Well, I know you’re not well now. But that’s because of the fire. You was incredible brave, Katie. Everyone says so. Like Bri. He was that brave, too. You’d have made a fine pair, the two of you.”

STOP THAT

“Stop what?”

The finger pointed quickly, moving rapidly from one block to another in exasperation.
BRIAN GONE SORRY MISS HIM BUT LOVE YOU BRIAN HAPPY FOR US

Paddy’s expression was bleak. “I think about him, Katie. I try not to, but the thoughts come. They’re terrible thoughts, me up here, alive, him on the bottom of the ocean….”

Katie reached up to put a finger to Paddy’s lips. She mouthed, “Shh!” Then she pointed again.
DON’T BE DUMB BRIAN NOT THERE IN OCEAN YOU KNOW BETTER PADDY

“But I
see
him there, plain as day!”

She pointed again, this time tapping each block with such force several tipped over.
NOT THERE HE IS IN WARM SAFE GOOD PLACE YOU KNOW THAT SAY IT PADDY SAY THATS WHERE BRIAN IS NOW

He looked dubious, but Katie could see he was trying, that he wanted to believe her.

STUBBORN BRI SAFE HAPPY YOU KNOW TRUE

At last he nodded. Tears of relief appeared in his eyes. “You’re right. He’s not there. I shouldn’t have been thinkin’ it all this time. It was wrong thinkin’ on my part.” His voice almost a whisper, he said, “It came from me not understandin’ why I lived and he didn’t. It’s tearin’ me to pieces, Katie, wonderin’ that.”

The tears that filled her swollen eyes then were angry ones. Her jabs were rapid and furious, as if the blocks themselves had offended her.
IT DONT MATTER WHY YOU JUST LIVED THATS ALL NOW YOU GOT TO DO SOMETHING WE WASNT SAVED FROM TITANIC TO DO NOTHING PADDY DO IT FOR BRIAN FOR ME FOR YOU ITS TIME

“You mean the book.”

YES

Paddy thought about that. Mary had said it was a wonder that Katie had lived, that everyone was certain she would die in that house. But she hadn’t. Maybe because he needed her so. And maybe
he
hadn’t died on the
Titanic
along with Brian because
he
was needed. It wouldn’t hurt to think so. “Will you help? I mean, I know you’re busy and all, singin’, but…”