Remembering the Titanic Part 6

As I was, Elizabeth thought, remembering that terrible moment in the garden.

Thanking the doctor, who then hurried off to attend to other patients, Elizabeth pulled the curtain aside and entered the emergency room cubicle where her mother lay on a bed, her eyes closed.

Chapter 12.

ELIZABETH DELAYED WRITING TO Va.s.sar. All around her in the city, young women were working in office buildings, piloting airplanes, driving automobiles, becoming involved in politics, doing things women had never before done. Once she wrote the letter declining admission, declining the scholars.h.i.+p, her chance of ever having an exciting, interesting life like those other young women would disappear forever.

But if her mother was ill....

"How do you know she's not faking?" Max asked when Elizabeth telephoned him from the hospital.

"Max!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but you have to see how coincidental it is that a perfectly healthy woman collapsed the moment you told her you were going away to college. What better way to keep you from going than to fake an illness?" Max's voice softened. "She had to know you would never leave if she was sick. You're not that kind of daughter."

"The doctor said she was sick. It's not as if Nola herself had said it."

"No, I guess not." Max didn't sound convinced. "You're still going to Va.s.sar, though, aren't you? You can hire a nurse for Nola if you think she needs one."

"A nurse? A stranger? Oh, Max, if you could have seen her...." Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat, recalling the sight of her mother on her knees on the stone path. "I honestly thought she was dying. I thought I had killed her. I never should have broken the news to her in that way. Without any preparation. I should have waited for a better time, or dropped little hints that I had applied. Given her some warning."

"You didn't know about her heart."

"Well, I know now."

Following an uncomfortable pause, Max said, "You're not going to go to Va.s.sar. I can hear it in your voice."

From where she stood in the wide, white-walled hallway, Elizabeth had a clear view of her mother's bed. With the curtain pulled partially aside, she could see that Nola's eyes were closed, her face in peaceful repose. "Well ... not just now. I can't. How can I? Dr. Cooper said Nola could lead an almost-normal life as long as she doesn't become upset or agitated. We both know my leaving would agitate her. Look how upset she got when I told her I'd been accepted. Telling her I was actually going, especially now that I know she's ill, would be the undoing of her. I might just as well push her off a cliff."

"So, you're not going," he repeated. He didn't add, I always knew you wouldn't. But Elizabeth heard it, anyway.

"She's sick, Max. She's the only parent I have left. Try to understand."

Though it must have taken effort on his part, he became then the Max she had fallen in love with on the t.i.tanic. "I do understand, Elizabeth. And I know you have to do what you think is right. Maybe ... maybe you can go later, when she's better. Or you could take some cla.s.ses at CCNY. Your mother wouldn't mind that, would she, since you wouldn't be leaving the city?"

Elizabeth felt a rush of warmth for him. He was being so sweet. He wanted her to go to Va.s.sar, he'd always made that clear. And yet here he was, understanding how torn she was feeling, and not pus.h.i.+ng her to selfishly abandon her mother ... who didn't even approve of Max.

Katie's singing career blossomed over the summer months. She sang at parties, lavish weddings, fund-raisers, any celebration that called for entertainment, always in the finest homes, on the grandest estates. The enterprising Flo had raised her fee several times. Each time, Katie feared no one would be willing to pay what she thought of as an astonis.h.i.+ng amount of money and her career would end. But that didn't happen. She opened a bank account, began paying Malachy and Lottie a generous rent for her small room, and bought three new gowns of her own choosing. She was careful to keep them simple in design, mindful that Flo had been right about that.

When she wasn't singing or rehearsing, she spent time with Bridget. She and John often took the child to the Brooklyn Pier on a hot Sat.u.r.day afternoon where, although Bridget was too small to swim in the deep water, she took pleasure in watching the young boys in swim trunks boldly diving in. She would count on her fingers when three or four jumped in at the same time, fearful that they wouldn't all surface. But they always did.

Katie saw less and less of Paddy. When she did see him, he seemed irritable and depressed, and once or twice, she was certain she smelled liquor on his breath. Sensing that the writing of his book for Edmund wasn't going well, she offered to help.

"And when would you be doin' that, pray tell?" he asked. They were walking in Manhattan on a sunny, sultry Sat.u.r.day afternoon, each armed with a wrapper containing a hot, aromatic sweet potato they'd bought from a street vendor. "Seems to me you've no time now for anything but singin' at those fancy affairs of yours."

Katie recognized envy when she heard it. The good nuns had warned her to steer clear of it. Had they not warned Paddy as well? Not that she blamed him. The tables had turned now. Her dreams were in full flower, while Paddy's were dying on the vine. He struggled so. She had no idea what was getting in his way. She knew only that something was. She wondered if Edmund knew what it was. Or Belle, who was still tutoring Paddy.

Swallowing the last of her sweet potato, Katie tossed the wrapper in a trash can and said, "I'd find time for you, Paddy. Do you not know that? Always, I would find time. If you want."

He shook his head. Reaching out to pat the tangled mane of a sway-backed, emaciated horse waiting at the curb for its master to return to the knife-sharpening cart it pulled, he said, "Even now you should be home vocalizin', rehearsin' for your engagement tonight. You said so yourself when I called for you at Malachy's."

Such a big mouth she had! She hadn't thought to hurt his feelings when she'd remarked that she should be practicing. But just as Paddy pulled up in front of the rooming-house in a taxicab, Flo had telephoned to remind Katie about her engagement in Larchmont that evening. "Don't you be gadding all over the city getting yourself all worn out," she had warned when Katie said Paddy was taking her into Manhattan. "And get back early enough to warm up those pipes so you'll be in good voice. Going to be some very wealthy, influential people there tonight. You'll be getting some work lined up for the holiday season, is my guess."

The warning about practicing had been so fresh in her mind when Katie ran down the steps and joined Paddy in the taxicab, she'd mentioned the conversation to him. She shouldn't have. It must have sounded to him as if he should think himself fortunate indeed to be in the company of so successful an entertainer.

Which wouldn't be so paining to him, if he was doing as well at his writing.

Not six months ago it was the other way around, Katie thought as she stopped to look in the window of a music equipment store. A beautiful grand piano was on display. Katie was saving up for a piano of her own, though she had no plans to buy anything as fine as the one in the window. A used one would not be so pricey, and would do nicely once it had been properly tuned. Right now, she had to go across the street to Agnes Murphy's to use the piano in the front parlor for her rehearsing. Katie didn't play, but Agnes seemed delighted with the chance to play again.

Agnes's piano was an old relic and could have used the fine hand of a tuner. Katie wanted her own instrument. And she knew if she ever did return to Ireland, she could take the piano, in spite of its size, right along with her. There had been several of them on the t.i.tanic. Hadn't she played the one in the third-cla.s.s common room her own self, while people sang and danced and had a grand time? If steerage had had one piano, second- and third-cla.s.s decks had probably had more than one. So she wouldn't have to leave a new piano behind should she decide to make the trip home.

John had volunteered to accompany her on the piano if she bought one for their own roominghouse. He missed playing, he said, as he'd done at school and in the church hall back home. But he didn't want to spend the money on a piano as he was, he told her, also saving for a ticket home. Saving up his vacation time at the bank, too. Perhaps, he had suggested one night, talking about Ireland, he and Katie might make the trip together?

She had avoided answering him directly by saying, "Oh, sure and you'll be ready to go long before me. It'll be a while before I can work up me courage to climb aboard a s.h.i.+p again. If I ever can do that. And besides," she had added loyally, "I'd best be waitin' until Paddy's ready to come along with me. Not that I'm sure he ever will be." John had made no further comment, but her aunt Lottie had said that night while the two women were drying the dinner dishes, "That boy's sweet on you, any fool could see it. He's a fine Irish lad and he's got himself a good job. You could do worse."

Shocked, Katie had said, "I thought you was fond of Paddy. Are you turnin' on him, then?"

Lottie shook her head. "He's a bright lad, but he ain't got a job, Katie, and no prospects for one as far as I can see. And he'd never settle for you supportin' the both of you, though it seems now like you could. Is he never goin' to write his book?"

Katie had had no answer for that.

"Do you think you'll be buyin' one of them pianos with your singin' money?" Paddy asked as they moved away from the display window.

"I might." Katie, happy to be in the noisy, busy city as long as Paddy was at her side, linked an arm through his. She was wearing one of her new dresses, a simple frock of white dotted swiss with pale yellow ribbon threaded through the hobble and the cuffs and neckline. The skirt was so tight, it was fair strangling her legs, and she had to take smaller steps than she was used to, as if her ankles had been chained together. "But I'm also savin' up for a trip home if I can work up the nerve to climb aboard a s.h.i.+p again. So I mean to be choosy about how much I spend on a piano."

Even as she spoke, the memory of that awful night came back. She felt the cold. She heard the screams, and she trembled.

Paddy shook his head again. He needed a haircut. Katie wondered why Edmund didn't see to it. Didn't Paddy have to look his best when he met all those important people? Maybe it was fine for writers to look like they didn't think about such ordinary things as haircuts. Or ... was Paddy not meeting with important people these days? Had Edmund given up on him? "Don't know what you'd be goin' back home for," he said. "Ain't nothin' there, nothin' at all."

Katie stopped walking. Since their arms were still linked, Paddy had to stop, too. "My family is there, Paddy! Don't you be callin' them nothin'."

"Sorry. Didn't mean that." They began walking again. The streets were crowded with Sat.u.r.day shoppers, street vendors hawked their wares, and young and middle-aged suffragettes hurried from shop to shop armed with pet.i.tions or bearing placards urging the vote for women. Several of them glared at Katie in pa.s.sing as if they resented the fact that she wasn't helping. "Maybe," Paddy added, "I'm just worried that you wouldn't come back. I know how you yearn for Ireland and Ballyford. Was you to travel all the way back there, how do I know you wouldn't decide to stay?"

"You could come with me." She smiled up at him. "And talk me out of staying if I'd a mind to. Wouldn't you like to see your ma and da, your granda again, Paddy? Just for a bit?"

Paddy's eyes darkened. "So they could all stand there lookin' at me and wis.h.i.+n' I was Brian? No, thanks."

Katie gasped, stopping abruptly again. "Patrick Kelleher, what a terrible thing to say! They would never wish that!"

"Sure, and I believe they would." His voice was firm, certain.

"You was always the apple of your ma's eyes, Paddy, and that's the truth of it. She'll be pinin' for Bri, like all of us, but 'tis your pa.s.sin' that would have broke her heart beyond mendin'. She must miss you somethin' fierce. Your da and granda, too. A visit would make them all feel better. Would you just think on it? I mean to go some day. "I would be much more pleasant was you to come along with me. And me ma and da would have more peace of heart was I to board a s.h.i.+p with you by my side, and not alone." She was tempted to tell him of John's offer to accompany her. Could be jealousy would do what her pleading would not. But Paddy seemed so disheartened these days, she didn't want to add to his pain, whatever it was.

He laughed bitterly. "Peace of heart? Because of me? 'Twas was me brother they trusted you with, Katie, not me."

Even though Katie recognized the truth of that, she hated hearing Paddy being so hard on himself. 'Twasn't like him at all. His old arrogance had oft times been maddening, but she'd grown used to it. 'Twas who he was, she'd thought, and loved him just the same.

It had to be the difficulties with his book that was getting him down. Maybe Belle wasn't being as much help as Edmund had thought she would. Katie still didn't understand why Paddy let Belle help, but not her. Was Belle Tyree so much smarter than Katie Hanrahan? Being a college student, could be she was.

But I know Paddy better, Katie argued silently. I could press him to work on his book better than Belle. If I'd been working with him all this time, I'd wager he'd be near done with it by now. And if he was, his spirits would be that much cheerier. He wouldn't be looking for all the world like his best friend had died....

The minute she thought it, she was sorry. And glad she hadn't spoken the words aloud.

Because Paddy's best friend had died. His older brother.

Could that be what was keeping him from doing the writing? Being heartsick with the loss of Brian? But if that was it, why did he never say so? He never talked about it. Wouldn't that be best, to relieve himself of it, say what he was feeling, even it was a hurting thing to do?

"Come and hear me sing tonight," she said impulsively. He'd come only once before, to a dinner party at an elegant home on Riverside Drive. But he'd left early, during intermission, saying he had had an "idea" and needed to get it down on paper before it slipped his mind. "Anyways," he'd said, "with all these other fine people fawnin' all over you, I'd just be in the way."

That had been the first sign that Paddy wasn't exactly shouting hoorah over Katie's blossoming career.

But if he came to Larchmont tonight, maybe he'd stay longer and they could talk. It would be quiet out there, and peaceful and pretty. Might even put him in the mood to think about taking a trip back home, with all that green surrounding him. "We'll have a good time," she added. "Say you'll come."

This time, he was the one to stop walking, jerking her to a standstill by his abrupt stop. His eyes were very dark as he looked down at her. "If you're thinkin' that hearin' you sing will make me feel better, then you don't understand anything."

That was cruel. Why was he being so rude? Stung, she retorted, "It makes John feel better. He's said so many times, which is more than you said when you came to hear me that time. You never even said you took pleasure in it. And you've not troubled yourself to come to another performance since, even though I telephone you every time and tell you where it is and what time. John comes to all of them, and after he's worked all week, too." She regretted that last part immediately, but he'd made her so angry. How could he be so certain her singing wouldn't help? It helped lots of people forget their worries. They said so, when they came up to her after.

Paddy flushed scarlet. "Meanin', I suppose, that I don't work at all, right, Katie? Well, here's the thing, then. Makes more sense for you to invite John tonight, don't it?" The flush faded and when he spoke again it was without anger. "Anyways, I can't tonight. I have a meeting of me own to get to. Edmund has a British publisher showin' an interest in the book. I'm meeting with both of them tonight. Sorry. I'll come another time, I promise."

But he wouldn't. And even without a meeting' to go to, he wouldn't have come tonight, neither, Katie was sure of that. Still, she was willing to let herself pretend he might have if he didn't have to go see a British publisher.

Saying it was later than he'd thought, he put her in a taxicab and handed the driver a wad of bills to pay her fare back to Brooklyn. Katie was bitterly disappointed. If he'd accompanied her home, they could have talked a bit more on the way, and she might have learned what it was that was troubling him so. Or maybe not. She was learning that she had to be very cautious about how she said things, about what she said, never knowing what might set him off. Being cautious about what she said and how she said it did not come easily to her. Hadn't she just proved that?

His kiss when he leaned in through the open window was sweet and tender, but Katie didn't feel his heart was in it. She didn't know where his heart might be these days, but she had a feeling it wasn't with her.

As the taxicab pulled out into traffic, she turned on the back seat to wave to Paddy one last time.

He was already gone.

Chapter 13.

AT THE LAST MINUTE, Katie's singing engagement in Larchmont was cancelled. She was brus.h.i.+ng her hair in her room when Lottie called up the stairs, "Flo just telephoned. The people what was havin' the party had to cancel. Some relative died. She said you can do as you please tonight and she'll talk to you tomorrow. I made sure she knew we had Ma.s.s in the morning, so she wouldn't telephone then. She said she'd wait until after Sunday dinner."

When Katie had changed out of the new blue dress and pinned up her hair, she went downstairs, intent on calling Paddy. If he'd already had his meeting with Edmund and the British publisher, maybe he'd take her to their favorite place: Coney Island. They hadn't been there since spring, and the weather was perfect now for such an outing. An evening breeze would surely arise to cool off the afternoon heat, and there was no hint of rain. She was missing him something fierce, they hadn't parted on such grand terms, and they always had such fun at the wondrous amus.e.m.e.nt park.

He wasn't home. Katie let the telephone ring far longer than was sensible, unwilling to give up her thought of a lovely evening with Paddy.

When she finally, despondently, replaced the receiver, Lottie was standing nearby with a suggestion. "You ain't had a Satiddy night off in a while," she said. "Malachy and me was thinkin', why don't we all go to Coney Island? Mary and Tom and their wee one could come, too, if they've a mind to."

John Donnelly, reading the newspaper in the front parlor, overheard. He came out into the hall to say politely, "I wouldn't mind going along, if no one objects. I've heard a lot about the place, but haven't been just yet. I wasn't keen on going alone."

Katie hadn't the heart to say he wasn't welcome. And with a clear eye on matchmaking now that she'd given up on Paddy, Lottie said hastily, "Oh, that'd be grand, John! Won't that be grand, Katie? All of us goin' together?"

Katie nodded and managed a smile for John. 'Twasn't his fault that her and Paddy was having troubles. "It'll be fun," she said, trying to believe it herself. "I'll just run across the street and invite Mary and Tom. I hope Mary isn't feelin' poorly."

Mary was feeling "top-drawer," and an hour later, all seven of them, Bridget perched on Katie's lap, were crammed into Tom's old black car, on their way to Coney Island.

As much as Katie loved the amus.e.m.e.nt park, it was not at all the same without Paddy. 'Twas Paddy who had talked her into riding the Red Devil Rider, which had taken her breath away; Paddy who had insisted she, too, try to win a prize at various game booths instead of standing by like other girls while the fellow did all the work. He had seemed as thrilled as she when she won a small stuffed panda for aiming carefully enough to knock down three small white ducks in a row in a shooting gallery. He had kissed her on the carousel, unmindful of disapproving eyes.

John steered away from the Red Devil Rider, and any other ride that looked the least bit threatening. He claimed they didn't look "structurally sound" and made it sound like he knew about such things. He said cotton candy was bad for their teeth and that the popcorn-making machine didn't look "sanitary." He did ride the Ferris wheel and the carousel with her, but made no move to kiss her, which was a relief to Katie. John complained about the dust and the noise and the crowd, almost all in the same breath, and more than once.

"You don't like the park, then?" Katie asked irritably as they strolled along the midway. "We don't have nothin' like this in all of Ireland, John. Don't you find it excitin'?"

"Well, sure I do, Katie." But she thought he only said that so she wouldn't disapprove. John did that sometimes, said things certain to get her approval. "It's just ... say, isn't that your friend Paddy over there?"

Katie's heart skipped a beat. Paddy, here? That couldn't be. He had a meeting.

"Over there ... on that bench, see? With the girl in the purple dress." Was there a note of smugness in John's voice, or was she imagining it?

She had to turn and look. And there he was. Wouldn't she know him anywhere in the world? He was indeed sitting on a bench, half-turned away from Katie. But she could see enough of the profile she knew so well to be very certain of what she was seeing. And the "girl in the purple dress," she realized, was Belle Tyree. Edmund wasn't with them, nor was anyone who looked like a British publisher. They had the bench all to themselves.

What were Belle and Paddy doing together here in this park that Katie had come to think of as her and Paddy's special place?

He had told her he couldn't come to hear her sing because he had a meeting. And then he had brought Belle here.

She hated him. She did. And Belle, too.

"Wouldn't you be wanting to go over and say h.e.l.lo?" John asked.

The suggestion horrified her. Let Paddy see the look on her face? Let him hear the sound of her heart breaking? She would rather jump off the Brooklyn Pier, though she couldn't swim a stroke. "He's busy ... they're talkin'. About his writin', most likely. We'd best not disturb them. Anyways, we need to be catchin' up with Malachy and Lottie or they'll be leavin' without us." Grabbing John's hand, she tugged him along the midway, never once glancing back in Paddy's direction.

While everyone else in the car sang the praises of the wondrous park during the ride home, Katie fumed. Paddy could have told her the plain truth. Could he not have said, "I'm not comin' to hear you sing because the truth of it is, I'm seein' Belle tonight. What's more, I'm takin' her to our special place."

She knew now why she'd seen so little of Paddy lately. And why he'd been in the doldrums. Probably worrying about how he was going to break the news to her, how he'd tell her that Belle Tyree held his heart now.

Probably scared she'd go into a tizzy over it.

Not me, she told herself grimly, ignoring the fact that tears were wetting her cheeks. She didn't even bother to wipe them away. In the car's dark interior, no one could see. It'd take more than a broken heart to throw me into a tizzy. Maybe a while ago, but not now. Not after what she'd gone through on the t.i.tanic. And she had her singing, that'd keep her too busy to think about Paddy off somewheres with Belle, and she had Malachy and Lottie and Mary and Tom and Bridget. She had John, too, if she wanted him. What did she need Paddy for? He didn't need her. He had Belle.

He hadn't changed, after all. Still breaking hearts the same as back in County Cork.

'Twas her own fault. Hadn't she known better? When Paddy kissed her on the t.i.tanic, she'd already known both brothers long enough to be aware of Paddy's reputation as a ladies' man. 'Twasn't Brian who was considered the faithless brother. But she had ignored what her head was telling her on board the s.h.i.+p and listened only to her heart. All of her firm resolve not to fall prey to Paddy's charms had dissolved under the sweetness of his kiss.