The Dressmaker (38 page)

“I’ve got good news,” he said. “Really good news.” He suddenly seemed almost shy.

“What is it?”

“Mrs. Brown, your ally in the lifeboat?”

Tess nodded, waiting.

“She saw me whittling away at the hearing in Washington, and started praising my work, very over the top. I thought she was a bit daft.”

“She’s not daft at all,” Tess said quickly.

“I’m trying to be modest, okay?” He grinned and tossed another chestnut, sending the industrious squirrel in fast pursuit. “Anyway, she liked what she saw, and commissioned me to do a piece especially for her.” He glanced sideways at Tess, teasingly. “A bigger version, to tell the truth, of the one I carved for you. She wanted the whole ship—why, I don’t know.”

“You mean a model of the
Titanic
?” Tess wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“Yes.”

“That’s wonderful, Jim. But—doesn’t it give you nightmares, revisiting the ship?”

“No,” he said slowly. “It’s a bit healing, actually. Anyway, she came up with something even better.” He cleared his throat and faced her squarely. “My dear Miss Collins”—he made an elaborate bow—“you are looking at somebody described as a master craftsman by an excitable lady who can make anything happen. Best of all, for me, a job.”

“That’s fantastic,” she said, laughing. “Absolutely fantastic.”

“So—and do remember you are looking at a
future
‘master craftsman’—this whittler from London now has a job in a woodworking shop—a great place, good money.” He was talking faster now. “The place is brilliant. They’ve got the best carving knives I’ve ever seen, and I’ll be doing some specialty work for them—relief carving, on mirrors and the like. To pull out from the wood a face or a picture—I love that. What—” He stopped dead and slapped his forehead. “What am I thinking of? It’s nearby. Want to come and see it?”

An instant of hesitation; then Tess nodded, caught up in his excitement and pride. He quickened his pace, and she almost had to run to keep up with him now. “Guess what? Lucile is letting me design a dress for her show,” she said breathlessly. “I’m working with wonderful material and it’s exciting—”

He stopped suddenly, turned, and lifted her by the waist, swinging her around. “That’s great news. Look at us—we’re both finding what we want! God, it
is
exciting, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said, laughing, still breathless, not wanting him to let go. How could she feel this so intensely—what about Jack?

He lowered her gently, taking her hand again as they resumed walking. The memory of the first time they had touched hands on the
Carpathia
flashed, the intimacy shared without words.

“Does the woodworking shop mean you’re staying here? Not heading West?” she asked.

“I’m here for now. Maybe later, who knows? I’m in a union shop, so I can do union work here. It’s good to be flexible, especially when you’ve got reasons not to leave.” He flashed her a quick grin, then looked around, as if only now noticing where they were. “I’ve heard of this place,” he said. “They call it Union Square. Lots of speeches and demonstrations. A good place in a good country.” He barely
broke stride. Finally, a few yards farther on, he stopped and pointed. “There it is,” he said.

Tess saw a somewhat shabby building tucked between two boarding houses. Jim grabbed her hand, opened the door to the shop, and stopped as they stepped inside, inhaling deeply. “Smell the sweet wood?” he said. “I love that smell.”

Tess nodded. It was such an aromatic, earthy smell—comforting, really. No tinge of wetness or coldness; no hint of sea or salt. The floor was covered with shaved scraps of wood, some tissue-thin, some crunched together like a woman’s curls. A soft, powdery substance coated a long, battered oak table that held a jumble of tools, the likes of which she had not seen before.

“You can do anything with these tools,” Jim said, picking one up. He nodded toward a smooth slab of wood. “It’s the frame for a mirror,” he said. “I’m working on it now.” He nodded toward an elaborately detailed Baroque mirror hanging next to the table. “That’s my model.”

“Where is the
Titanic
?”

“In the back room.” He took her hand again and together they walked to the back of the shop, Jim nodding and joking with a few of the woodworkers. He clearly already felt comfortable here.

“There it is. I’ve only begun, really. Got a lot of work to do on it yet.”

Almost fearfully, Tess stared at the ship. The four smokestacks, carved bold, gave her a shiver. How grand and enthralling they had been.

“Go ahead, Tess. Touch it. It’s all right.”

With one finger she followed the curve of one of the finished lifeboats. Tiny and still, but a perfect replica. The slender ropes tied tightly, not swirling and slipping across the deck. The delicately molded steps leading to the lookout’s station, where no binoculars waited … She touched the stern, the last part of the
Titanic
any of them had seen.

What did I learn? she wondered. What did it teach me?

“I’ve got a lot more work to do to get it right,” Jim said, standing at her shoulder.

“Jim, it’s wonderful.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the model. “Where were we standing when we met?”

He pointed to a place near one of the lifeboats. For a moment, they both looked in silence, saying nothing. Then Jim spoke quietly.

“I once said to you I didn’t think we were so different, and I saw in your eyes that you didn’t agree. I hope that’s changed.”

Straightforward and honest. Regardless of the tumult in her heart, she must be, too. But how? What could she say?

He laid his hands gently on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “I need to see your eyes,” he said with such tenderness, she could say nothing else. “I’m going to kiss you, Tess Collins. Something I’ve wanted to do since our walk through the park.”

She couldn’t help herself. His arms around her, his lips on hers, the powerful, sensual feel of him—for a long, slow moment, she met his hunger with her own, winding her arms around his neck, touching his soft, unruly hair. He whispered into her ear, then met her lips again. What was she doing? She pulled away.

“No, no. Jim, I’m too confused.”

“I’m sorry—was this too fast?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Tess, there’s so much I want to say.” He was talking rapidly again. “All I’ve been able to think about for days is the idea of building a new life in this country with you.” He held up his hands, palms out. “These are my tools, my passport to better things, just like yours are. Tess, we have our futures right here.” He touched her chin, looking into her eyes with an expression so hopeful, it was painful. “Can you give at least some consideration to it being the two of us together?”

And there it was, like a warming light, and so much in her wanted to respond, to say yes. But another part of her held back, looking in another direction. How could she know—how could she be sure of anything right now? “I think all this is wonderful, and you’re wonderful, and I have a bond with you that I’ll share with no other in my life,” she managed. And then stopped.

It took a long moment, but the color slowly left Jim’s face. “Are you saying no?” he said.

“I’m saying I’m not sure.”

He stood very still, looking as if he had been slapped in the face. “It sounds like no to me. Is it because I testified?”

“No, no, I admire you—I meant that.”

“I would never compromise you, Tess. Maybe I was assuming too much, too fast? I’m sorry, I can wait.”

She tried to think of what to say.

“Or—is there someone else?”

She nodded slowly.

A pause. “Did I miss a signal?” His voice shook slightly. “I never knew. Have I been wrong about that?”

“There wasn’t anyone before, please know that. But—”

“But there is now.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He stepped back, looking so stunned that she had to stop herself from reaching for his hand. She couldn’t have reached him anyway. Heartsick, she saw the light in his eyes fade. He was retreating from her—how could she have expected anything different? His hands remained at his sides.

“Forgive me for taking too much for granted.”

“I’m very confused, and I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. Stupid, meaningless words that meant nothing. She had done precisely that.

“I don’t think that’s in your control anymore.”

“I still feel it.”

“That won’t do either of us any good,” he said. “Look, I presumed too much.”

“No, it’s that so much happened so fast. Oh, Jim—”

“It’s all right,” he said mechanically. “But I should go now.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, stepping through the doorway. “Look, I’ll walk you home. It’ll be dark soon, and you shouldn’t walk alone.”

“No, it’s all right if you need to go. I can find my way.”

He looked away, silent for a moment. A breeze had sprung up, moving softly through the trees, ruffling his hair. When he spoke, it was in a tone simultaneously flat and curious. “I might as well ask, I guess. You really think I’m just a village boy?”

“How—”

“How did I know? Your Lady Duff spread it around on the
Carpathia
.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I wouldn’t want you to be ashamed of me. Makes for an awkward setup.”

“I’m not, and I never could be,” she managed.

“Nice to hear, I guess.”

“Please, Jim. We have something important between us, a friendship—let’s not destroy it.”

This time he looked at her in total disbelief. “Are you really asking for that? Just—snap my fingers and change how I feel about you?”

“No, no, that was stupid.”

“I think I need to walk somewhere. I wish you well,” he said. He turned his back to her, his shoulders bent under a mountain of hurt, and strode away.

Look around, she thought. Please. But he didn’t. She turned and walked slowly in the opposite direction, stepping over the wood chips, smelling the sweetness of this place. She had just lost something huge, leaving a hollowed-out space that felt as if it could swallow her up. If she had only had more time to think it through. And what did that mean? The only thing she knew for sure right now was that she could no longer hold these two men in separate compartments in her heart.

Jack was waiting outside her building in a dark-blue Buick, the engine running impatiently, its silver headlamps glowing. How long had he been waiting? Tess walked slowly, both relieved to see him and yearning for time alone. She wasn’t ready; she needed to go into her flat, close her door, and catch her breath.

He stepped from the car, leaned forward and kissed her cheek, eyes watchful. “Maybe you don’t want to explain anything,” he said. “But I need to know where I am.”

So courteous. Jack always treated her as someone with dignity; already she felt calmed.

“You saw me with the man from Lifeboat One who wanted to go back,” she said.

“He must be a very brave man.”

“He is.” Again her eyes were filling up.

“And he loves you—am I right?”

She nodded.

“Why are you crying, Tess?” His voice was so gentle. Not anxious, not angry, not probing.

“I’m not. It all happened too fast.”

“Perhaps you could explain.”

“I refused him.” Such a cloaked, old-fashioned word.

Jack’s shoulders, visibly tensed, began to relax. “Are you sure?” he said. “I saw the way you looked at him. I won’t stand in the way of something you want, but I have to know.”

“I’m sure.” Listening to her own voice, so thin. Nothing coming out of her mouth sounded clear-cut and certain.

“You may just want to be.”

She covered her face with her hands. “How are you so wise?” she asked.

He sighed. “Experience. Too much, actually.” He paused, then went on. “Uncertainty isn’t a bad thing. I wish I could slow everything down, but I can’t. May I hold you?”

She needed to know more, to take time. But in his arms everything seemed to disappear. It felt so good to float above the ground, to put aside her worries.

“Am I invited?” he murmured, touching the pulse in her neck with his lips.

“Yes.”

“There is something I want to propose,” he said. “Marry me.”

Tess froze.

“I know it’s fast, but I’ve looked long enough and made enough of my share of mistakes to know when it’s right.”

“But you’re still married,” she said.

“The divorce documents were ready for our final signatures when I stepped onto the
Titanic
. You are a cautious one, Tess.” His smile
was warm and kind. “If I allowed myself to be timid, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”

“I’m not timid, I’m just—just surprised.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So where is the brave and adventurous girl I met on the
Titanic
?”

“I don’t want to be married, not yet,” she burst out. She could see her mother’s face, hear her cautionary words. “I know what happens. I’ve told you, I want to work, I want—”

Jack laughed. “I’m not asking you to choose,” he said. “I’m one of the few men you’ll know who can give you the life I know you want to lead. You can have it all. Do you doubt that?”