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Residuum

Page 18

by ID Johnson


  “I’ll have to go back out there,” he reminded her. “Just like we have to go back across the sea. I have to face my fears and walk into that crowd and pretend like I didn’t just react like a small child and run away from a loud noise.”

  “No one was watching us by then,” Meg assured him. “I’m sure they realize we are missing now, but they likely think we are up to no good.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, then let’s not disappoint them.” He raised her face so that she was looking at him and slowly kissed her. “I love you, Meg. I’m so glad you’ve agreed to be my wife.”

  “I love you, too. I’m so glad you asked. Again.”

  He kissed her once more, and the party, the family, the fireworks, even Titanic faded to the background; they could stay there forever as far as Meg was concerned.

  Chapter Ten

  Mauretania seemed eerily similar to Titanic, but Meg wouldn’t allow herself to think about that. She’d boarded the ship much differently this time, as a First Class passenger, under her own name, and the captain himself had come by to make sure she was comfortable and to assure her there was nothing to fear. While Meg was fairly certain she would manage the week-long voyage well enough, she was worried about Charlie. He had given in to his mother’s insistence that the family physician, Dr. Shaw, be brought along, and it was comforting to know someone so familiar with Charlie’s medical history was nearby, particularly since this one had not given him any medication that might make him forget his fiancée.

  They had opted for interior rooms on the lowest floor possible of First Class accommodations in hopes that there would be less movement and fewer reminders that they were out on the water again, but Meg ended up feeling more trapped than soothed by the lack of a balcony or window. Even the Third Class room she’d had on Titanic came with a porthole.

  Neither of them planned to attend any meals outside of their rooms, and for the most part they kept to Charlie’s quarters, Jonathan and Carrie almost always in their company, the doctor checking in several times a day. The time went by slowly, passed by playing chess, which Meg was a champion at, or checkers, or reading. Jonathan frequently became stir-crazy and would disappear for hours, and occasionally Carrie would go out and about, having never been on a passenger liner before, but they never left the couple together alone. At all.

  Meg could see in Charlie’s eyes that he was struggling by the fourth day. Jonathan was already out, and she sat across from him pretending to read while she really secretly watched him over the top of her book. Carrie was dozing on the settee nearby. “Perhaps we should go out for a walk,” Meg said quietly, closing her book and setting it aside.

  His eyes grew wide. “Surely, you jest.”

  “Why not? Jonathan says it doesn’t remind him much of Titanic.”

  He was shaking his head before words even came out. “No, thank you. I shall stay here and pretend that I am in my library at home.”

  “Maybe you should try opening a book then,” she teased. Inwardly, she had been quite concerned at the amount of time he seemed capable of simply sitting and staring at nothing.

  “Maybe I should follow Carrie’s example and go to sleep. Permanently. Until we arrive.”

  “I’m awake,” the servant girl said, but her eyes didn’t open.

  “We’ll be there in a few days,” Meg reminded him. “We’re over halfway there, and the captain assures me the difficult part is past.”

  “What’s the difficult part? Are we over shallow water now? Could we get out and walk if necessary?” He was certainly toying with her, but Meg could see the fear in his eyes.

  “I believe he meant no more icebergs. It’s practically summer now.”

  “It’s not even June.”

  “The water should be much warmer.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. No need to test it for myself.”

  She giggled, trying to lighten the mood. “No need for anyone to test it.”

  “Why don’t you and Carrie—who is awake—go for a stroll, and I shall stay here and keep that painting on the wall company?” Charlie suggested, nodding in the direction of a portrait of an older woman sitting in what appeared to be a country home.

  “She is quite lovely.” Meg couldn’t help but make eyes at him when she said it.

  “Isn’t she though?”

  “No, not at all.” They laughed, and Meg felt better, seeing some of the color come back into his face. He’d been himself off and on, which is more than she’d hoped for when they embarked upon this trip, but she still longed for him to be Charlie again all the time.

  “Please, go. I’ll be fine. I don’t need a sitter, and you and Carrie may as well get some exercise.”

  Carrie was sitting up now, rubbing her eyes. “Would you like to go, miss?”

  Meg was a bit hesitant herself. She’d only brought it up because she thought fresh air would do Charlie good. Now, faced with the possibility of looking down off the side of a ship again, she wasn’t quite sure she was ready. “Go, Meg. Come back smelling like the sea and the wind.”

  “All right,” she said, and even though she was a bit frightened to do so, she set her mind on getting back out there into the world. She stopped to kiss him before she left, and Carrie only giggled, not attempting to intervene at all.

  “You really are a horrible chaperone,” Charlie called after her as the women made their way to the door.

  “You’re welcome,” Carrie replied, raising her eyebrows and lowering them at him, making Charlie laugh. Meg was glad to hear it and hoped he’d still be in good humor when she returned. Unless he was asleep. That might be even better.

  Up on the promenade, it was quite windy, and Meg wished she’d thought to bring a shawl. Her hair was pinned tightly so most of it stayed out of her face, but Carrie was fighting hers. They walked for a bit, and Meg took Carrie’s arm, staying away from the railing as best they could. After a few moments, she felt more at ease. It really didn’t remind her of Titanic as much as she thought it would.

  Ahead of them, she spied Jonathan standing alone, peering into the water. He still managed to keep his hat upon his head, despite the wind, and Meg thought he looked haunted. She wondered if it had anything to do with the ship or if it was something else.

  “Carrie, would you mind going back to the room to get my shawl? I see Jonathan up there. I’m sure he will keep me company while you go.”

  “Yes, miss,” Carrie replied, pulling a lock of brown hair out of her face as she did so. Meg assumed she’d be happy to have the opportunity to put something warmer on and pull back her hair better.

  He saw her coming, which didn’t surprise her since he always had a way of knowing what was happening long before anyone else. He may have even been expecting her. “Is everything all right?” she asked as she came to a stop beside him.

  “As well as can be expected, I suppose,” he replied, smiling at her.

  Meg was happy to smell no alcohol whatsoever, though she thought this might be the time when he’d feel the need to drink the most. “It really is a different sort of passenger liner, isn’t it?’

  “Yes,” he replied. “Although now that we are standing here together, I’m reminded of that night when I hunted you down after dinner.”

  She knew exactly what he was speaking of. “I am also reminded of countless discussions aboard Carpathia, wondering if Charlie would be all right.”

  “I suppose we will continue to have those conversations for months, if not years, to come,” he admitted. “I can’t believe it hasn’t even been two months yet. It seems like an eternity.”

  She agreed. It was as if Titanic had always been a part of her, like even before she boarded the ship, it was ingrained in her soul. “The fresh air seems to be doing you well,” she said, nonchalantly.

  He looked at her skeptically. “I’ve not been drinking quite so much, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “No, I was just saying…”

  “Meg, I underst
and what you were saying that night back home. I knew I was letting it get the better of me. It’s all been quite difficult, you know.”

  “I do,” she admitted.

  He sighed and looked around, uneasy. He turned to face her. “Meg, did you happen to speak to Charlie about me? About your suspicions concerning my private affairs?”

  His tone didn’t seem hostile, and yet she felt tension in her abdomen. She hadn’t meant to do anything to offend him. “I… yes,” she admitted. “I did have a discussion with him. But only for your benefit, I assure you.”

  He nodded and shifted so that he was faced back out to the sea. “I know you meant well.”

  “Did something ill come of it?” she asked, resting her hand lightly on his forearm.

  “No, not at all,” Jonathan replied, still not facing her. “He mentioned something the other evening, after supper, and I thought it must be due to your intervention.”

  Meg took a step backward, surprised. “Whatever did he say?”

  “Only that he wanted me to know that my friendship meant more to him than anything, and, so long as I was comfortable with myself, he would support any decisions I should make in the future.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “That seems… vague.”

  “I agree. I asked him what in the bloody hell he was talking about, to steal a line from you Brits, and he said he was sorry for trying to introduce me to young ladies when he realized that wasn’t my forte.”

  The thought of Charlie saying such a thing made her giggle. She was certain it must have been an awkward conversation, but she was proud of him for speaking up, nonetheless. “And how did you take such a proclamation?’

  “At first, I was dumbfounded. I had no idea he was aware of… anything.”

  “He was. I’ll admit I was about to mention it to him, but he already knew.”

  “So… I just thanked him, and then we went on about the card game we had been playing, as if he hadn’t said anything at all.”

  “That sounds about right,” Meg nodded. She glanced behind her to see if Carrie was nearby, but she wasn’t. “And is this the reason for your newfound sobriety?”

  He laughed. “No, I don’t think so. Not in its entirety anyway. I feel I need to be on high alert while Charlie is in such a precarious state. But it did make me feel better.” He looked far out to sea, as if he was looking for home. “I’ve thought about bringing it up to him before, particularly when he’s suggested I date some young woman or another, but I was never brave enough to do so. I thought he might… treat me differently.”

  “I can assure you, nothing will change the way Charlie feels about you, Jonathan. You’re his best friend as well as the hardest worker he’s ever employed. You’re family.”

  He offered her a meager smile. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you bringing it up to him, Meg. I don’t know that I ever would’ve dared to on my own.”

  “You’re welcome,” Meg said with a shrug. “And I’m sorry if I put my nose where it didn’t belong. I just want you to be happy, Jonathan. That’s all that matters to me.”

  He turned and opened his arms, and Meg wrapped hers around him, resting her head on his chest. “I wish everyone were as open-minded as you, Meg.”

  She couldn’t think of a single word to say in response, so she only clutched him tighter.

  “Miss, here’s your shawl,” Carrie said, her footsteps stopping right behind Meg. With one more squeeze, Meg let him go.

  “I’ll go check on Charlie,” Jonathan said with a small smile, and Meg took her shawl and watched him walk away, hoping this would be a new beginning for him. Everyone deserved a happily ever after, especially someone who did so much for so many others.

  Meg sat next to Charlie on the settee in his room, listening to Carrie snore on his bed. It was nearly midnight, and she knew she should go back to her room, but she didn’t want to. Mauretania was due to arrive in Southampton in the morning, and thoughts of what that would mean kept creeping into her mind, along with a host of ghouls from the box. The battle of pushing them back in was exhausting.

  “Do you think my sister and mother are enjoying planning the wedding?” Charlie asked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

  She looked up at him with one eyebrow raised. “I’m sure they are, though if it goes anything like the engagement announcement, we shall have to purchase stock in heart medication.”

  Charlie chuckled. “At least Grace apologized. That’s something, I suppose.”

  They hadn’t really talked about the events of the engagement party since that night, the fireworks having marred the entire event, but there were questions lingering in Meg’s mind, and she thought now was just as good a time as any to broach them. “Will the same attendees be invited to the wedding—and several hundred more then?”

  “I assume so,” Charlie shrugged. His arm was draped around her shoulders, her hand on his knee. Their chaperone slumbered on peacefully. “I do hope Ralph is able to make it, though. And my friend Walter. You’ll love him. Silly old chap.”

  Meg had heard mention of Walter before, though she’d yet to meet him. Ralph was the opening she was looking for. “Ralph is… Stella’s brother?”

  “Yes,” Charlie said, though his demeanor changed a bit. She wasn’t sure if it was the mention of her name or the realization that he’d given her the opportunity she had wanted since she’d started the conversation.

  “She seemed a bit hostile,” Meg said, making her voice as nonchalant as possible.

  Charlie only nodded. “Ralph was a sort-of troublemaker in high school, but he certainly turned things around. He’s working in exports now, I believe.”

  The change in topic didn’t stick. “Charlie, why was Stella so antagonistic?”

  “Stella?” Charlie asked, as if he couldn’t quite place her. “I’m not sure. She was inebriated I believe. Perhaps that’s why.”

  She let a sly grin spread across her face. “Charles?”

  “All right, Mary Margaret. If you must know, Stella and I spent quite a bit of time together for a semester or two, back when you took one of your hiatuses from writing to me.”

  She raised both eyebrows. “I see. So it’s my fault that she fell in love with you and never recovered?”

  “Partially,” he said, returning her surprised expression. “Although, for most women it can’t be helped.”

  She laughed loudly and threw her hands over her mouth in an attempt to keep from waking Carrie. “That might be the most boastful statement I’ve ever heard you make.”

  “And you knew immediately I was joking,” he reminded her, kissing her on the forehead.

  “I did, only because I know you wouldn’t ever say such a thing—that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

  He shrugged again. “It isn’t true for most women, I dare say. But for Stella… we’ll just say there was a hope there that you and I would not work out.”

  Meg nodded. “And did you feel the same way about her?”

  He answered quickly. “No. I mean… I cared a lot for Stella. She is unlike any woman I’d ever met before. I met her during a football match where she ran onto the field to take the ball away from me.”

  “Really?” Meg asked, her mouth agape. “I can’t imagine.”

  “Yes, she’s quite unique and interesting. And I believe you know I did go through a short period of time when the idea of controlling my own destiny seemed appealing. But it was short-lived, and my relationship with Stella was ended quite quickly after I realized how much I cared for you.”

  “Before you even met me?”

  “Yes.”

  “When I was across the ocean pretending you didn’t exist?”

  “Indeed.”

  Meg shook her head slowly. “It’s no wonder she hates me. And it’s no wonder she thought you were mad to believe we’d ever end up together.”

  “Well, if that’s what makes me mad, then I’ll accept the label.” He kissed the top of her head again, and M
eg slid her hand up so that it was around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Stella and Quincy might not be happy, but that doesn’t give her the right to make a spectacle of herself at our wedding.”

  “No, it’s fine if she comes,” Meg assured him. “If she’d like to. I don’t mind.”

  “All right then,” Charlie said, wrapping his arms around her.

  Meg glanced up at him. “You’re certain there’s no regret, though? You don’t wish things had happened differently?”

  His only answer was to kiss her in such a way that Carrie might have even had to put a stop to it if she’d been awake. Meg was grateful she could still hear her lady’s snores as Charlie’s sweet kisses carried her away.

  Seeing Southampton from a distance was surreal, and Meg almost wished she’d stayed inside of her room until the ship docked, but she’d been drawn to the upper deck where she could see her hometown unfurl before her. When she’d left, not nearly as long ago as it seemed, she’d done so assuming her future would hold freedom and a new beginning in New York. While that had been the case, it was nothing like what she’d imagined. If she’d had her way, she’d be working her fingers to the bone in a factory somewhere, living in a dirty hole in the wall, who knows where, with dozens of other tenants, barely eating, wearing rags. She’d have been free, but she wouldn’t be with Charlie. Kelly and Daniel would be in the same situation—living a meager existence just scraping by to feed their children. While Meg was certain she’d be happier in such a situation than she had been under her uncle’s roof, she was thankful fate had other things in store for her.

  Charlie was with her. It was the first time he’d come out of his cabin the entire trip, and with the sunshine and fresh air, his coloring did look better, but she could tell he was nervous, and his hand shook where it grasped the railing in front of them. This would be the hardest part for him, she was certain. Going back, he would be more assured of himself. Perhaps he’d even join her on the promenade or frequent the First Class dining hall.

 

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