Where Trust Lies (9781441265364) (12 page)

S
OMETIME
DURING
THE
NIGHT
,
the ship had weighed anchor and was en route to Anticosti Island. Margret opted out of breakfast again, citing a recurrence of her stomach complaints, though she joined the family soon afterward for their morning walk on deck. Julie had disappeared, and Beth spent time attempting to transfer onto a blank canvas her own sketch of the lighthouse perched above the arches.
After all, it isn't merely Julie'
s project. Why not at least begin one painting for
her?

The next social cataclysm occurred not long afterward. Julie appeared in the suite, fresh from three hours on the recreational deck. Her cheeks were rosy from whatever her recent exertions had been, and she had an obvious spring in each step. She was dressed in her white tennis outfit, this time with a yellow sweater, complete with a bright yellow fringed scarf around her head.

Beth eyed her suspiciously. “You look like the cat that just swallowed the canary.”

“Thanks, Bethie,” Julie responded with a giggle.

Beth answered dryly, “My dear, that is
not
a compliment. What have you been up to?”

Julie whisked past, slipping out of the sweater and tossing it over the back of the settee. “Why, Bethie, whatever do you mean?”

“Julie Camille,” Mother called from the open door of her bedroom, “please ready yourself for lunch.”

“Yes, Mother.” But there was still a tone of frivolity and amusement in Julie's voice.

Beth followed her into their shared room to wash up and tidy her own hair.
There's clearly a secret Julie is
playing up for all it's worth.
“What aren't you telling?” Beth said sternly.

Her eyes twinkling, Julie closed the door. Then she drew the scarf slowly from her head and spun in a circle.

“What have you
done
?” Beth demanded.

“Don't you love it? Jannis did it for me.”

Julie's long, dark tresses had disappeared. There was now only a row of blunt curls hanging around her head. “It's a ‘bob,'” Julie enthused. “It's all the latest rage. Don't you love it, Bethie darling?”

“Oh, it'll
cause
a rage, you can be sure of that.” Swallowing hard, Beth tried to gather her composure. “Julie, you know full well that Mother would not have allowed it. How could you do such a thing behind her back?”

“You said it yourself—we're adults. We should be free to make our own decisions where our personal interests are concerned. How could my hair be anything other than my own
personal interest
?”

“When did I ever say such a thing?” Beth demanded.

“When we were deciding what to do the other day. You said we'd go with Mother to the sing-along to keep her happy—and then we would do what we wanted afterward. You and
Margret went swimming, and I played deck games since we were free to make our own choices as adults. That's what you said, Bethie! I heard it clear as day.”

Beth was still staring at the shockingly short hair. “Whatever I said, I certainly didn't mean
this
.”

Tears began to form in Julie's eyes. “But it's
my hair
. Why shouldn't I wear it the way I like?”

Beth turned away, adding water to the basin and dunking a washcloth into it. “I don't know what to say, Julie.” Her head was spinning. “Mother is going to be very upset.”

“Do you think she'll be cross with us?”

“Oh, no, sister dear. This is not about
us
.” Wringing out the washcloth more forcefully than necessary, Beth muttered, “This is only about
you
and your foolish decision. It has nothing to do with me.”

Julie huffed from behind in a flash of anger. “I meant Jannis and me. There isn't an ‘us' anymore with you, because you haven't spent any time with me for days!”

“What? I . . . but we . . .” Beth tossed the washcloth over its hook and stalked toward the door. “I won't be with you when you tell Mother. You can just do that with Jannis—if you think it will help.”

When Mother discovered Julie's haircut, she sent the others on to lunch. With all her heart, Beth felt sorry for the woman who had such a difficult burden—a daughter who would blissfully allow herself to be sweet-talked into doing what a casual acquaintance suggested. And then she remembered the pills that she had accepted from the same source. Her heart softened.
Julie probably was not
thinking clearly either when she trusted her new friends. But
Margret's concerns certainly are proving to be correct.

And then she was struck once more.
What will Father say?
He's always complimented Julie's long curls—so much
like Mother's hair.
The mental image of his disappointment tugged sorrowfully at Beth's heart.

Julie and Mother did not appear for lunch. When Beth and Margret returned to their suite, Emma, her eyes wide, informed them that they had made a hurried appointment in the on-board beauty salon in order to “fix” Julie's hair.

“Her hair will grow back,” Margret said with a sigh, “but broken trust might take longer to restore.”

Mother must be
greatly dismayed right now. Father too, soon enough.
It seemed as if Julie had chosen to move beyond her family, allying herself with her new friends. Beth wished for a long walk through a woods to sort out all the emotions twisting themselves together in her mind. Then she remembered a previous suggestion.

She hurried back into the hallway and knocked on the neighboring door. “Victoria, may I please accept your gracious offer to borrow your violin? I believe that would be particularly pleasant just now.”

“Of course,” the girl agreed at once. “I'll get it from my room.”

Out in the warm sunshine on her stateroom's balcony, Beth brought the strings into tune. She deliberately ignored the fact of nearby passengers, though she could not see them. The soulful timbre of the instrument expressed her turbulent thoughts perfectly. The strains of the familiar hymn,
It Is Well
With My Soul
, lifted on the breeze, and Beth wondered if it were truly so with her soul. There was so much beauty in the idea of
family
, and yet an undercurrent of sorrow or even angst seemed always woven into the word as well. Their
closeness had only heightened the impact of each word and deed. Tears formed in Beth's eyes as she squeezed them shut and willed the world away.

“Heavenly Father,” she whispered, “help us to love one another adequately, no matter what. They're each so precious to me, and yet I don't always demonstrate that well. Why does it seem to grow harder just when we should be the closest? I've missed them for so long. It seems as if it should be easy now to be together again.”

The sweet tunes drifted from one song to another. Soon Beth recalled another favorite hymn, the words flowing through her mind as she played.
“Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in
Christian love; the fellowship of kindred minds is like to
that above.”
She prayed for grace to live up to such an exalted vision of unity.

Watching through the large porthole-shaped window for Julie's return with Mother, Beth went inside as soon as she saw them enter the suite, hoping to convey her improved attitude to Julie somehow, even if she were not able to do so in words. They stood awkwardly for a moment, uncertain what to say to each other.

The haircut had been improved. It was no longer quite as chopped off—softer now, releasing more of the natural curl around Julie's face.

“I wanted it to be like Jan's,” she said, her face crumpled, after Mother had moved on to her bedroom. “But her hair is straight, so they told me it wouldn't work for me.” She frowned, but added stubbornly, “I'm going to sleep with a silk stocking on my head. If I go to bed with wet hair, maybe it will be straighter by morning.”

Beth reached out to tousle one of the curls. “It's elegant the way it is, dearest Julie. Your pretty face would make any
hairstyle look lovely. However, maybe the stocking trick will make you happy. You'll have to try it and see.”

“It's funny,” Julie lamented. “Penny said she loved my curls, but I like how straight Jan's hair is. She can't get hers to take a curl at all—not for all the pin curlers she's tried. Wish we could trade, at least for a while.”

“You have no reason to covet anyone else's hair,” Mother chided from her doorway, though her tone had no sting. “One must be grateful for the way God has created each of us. Or one will never be satisfied at all.”

“There.” Beth smiled at her sister, their eyes fully meeting at last. “Be grateful, darling. I've always known you were special, and now I guess we can say that you're . . . well, even
specialer
!”

Julie rolled her eyes in response, but Beth was pleased to see a glimmer of humor there. She reached out for a strong embrace and was grateful to find it returned.

“Well, look who's here!”

Startled, Beth turned toward the sound. Julie and Jannis giggled in immediate recognition. The four young ladies were waiting in line for transport to their sightseeing event.

Penny spoke for all of them. “Nick, we didn't know you were taking this shuttle.”

“Of course.” He grinned confidently. “I wanted to see this fishery—or cannery—whatever it is we're headed to. But where's the rest of your clan? Are they too high-hat for this place?”

Julie motioned for him to cut in line with them for the next tender to Anticosti Island. He did not need to be invited twice.

“Golly, Jules.” He stared at her hair. “What happened to you?”

“Jannis did it. Don't you like it?”

Reaching to pull one of the curls out straight, he let it spring back into position. “And how!” he answered with a wink. “You look positively scrumptious.”

“Thanks.” She blushed. “Mother and Mrs. Montclair weren't at all interested in going today. Too rough for their taste, they said. And Victoria wouldn't go if she couldn't get out into the woods. A group of men is going fishing, and Victoria was desperate to travel along and see the wildlife, but her mother put her foot down on
that
idea.” Penny and Jannis joined Julie in giggling at the thought. “And Margret—well, I think she would have come, but she wasn't feeling very well this morning.”

“Say, you're dressed awful nice for gals who are headed out to see where fish are gutted and filleted. Just look at all of you,” he continued in a flattering tone. “You're all dolled up as if you're going to a cotillion instead of a smelly factory.”

“What did you expect,” Jannis bantered, “overalls and rubber boots?”

Beth glanced down at her light-blue skirt and white frilled blouse. She hoped he wasn't right, that they had been foolish in their choice of attire for the day.

The tender entered the broad harbor and approached the little town of Port-Menier. Beth was not surprised that the more elegant passengers hadn't bothered with this excursion. But it was reminiscent of Coal Valley—a small industrial town surrounded by the most wonderful scenery.
Can the similarities be captured in a
painting, with fishing boats instead of the Rockies? Will Julie
even bother to finish it if I somehow manage
an adequate sketch?
Beth climbed out of the tender with the aid of Nick's hand.

In long overcoats made of white cotton duck to cover their clothing, Beth found the fish odors in the cannery very
strong, but all the clattering machinery was fascinating. She purchased several cans of seafood fresh off the canning line and tucked them away in her bag.
Won't my students be excited to
taste lobster?