A Family for the Titanic Survivor

by Lauri Robinson

  The weight on his shoulders grew heavy. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve been told they have, and I’ve been told they haven’t.” There was still a portion of anger inside him, but a larger portion of frustration. It was like there was nothing he could do. He’d loved his brother. He missed him. He’d always taken care of Benjamin. At a time when he should have been being a kid, he’d been more focused on Benjamin. With their father at work, and their mother gone, he was the only person Benjamin could count on, and had to be now, too.

  “There were so many,” she said quietly. “So, so many. The water was white with life vests. At first, I thought they were icebergs, because that’s what we’d been encountering while rowing toward the other ship, but it wasn’t icebergs. It was life vests. Unmoving. Just bobbing in the waves.”

  His skin shivered at her description.

  She closed her eyes.

  Empathy filled him and he crossed the room, sat down beside her on the davenport. “Don’t, Bridget.” He shouldn’t, but put an arm around her. “Don’t think about it.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about it.” She lifted her head, looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “I’ve tried, but can’t. It would be nothing shy of a miracle for Annette and Benjamin to be found. There were so, so many. But if it helps, Annette was wearing a green dress, with gold stitching. It was velvet. Benjamin had on a suit, black, with a white shirt, gold vest and green tie.”

  He wished he hadn’t subjected her to these memories. “Thank you,” he said, not knowing what else to say while trying to come up with a way out of this mess that he’d created with his anger.

  “They both looked so fetching that evening,” she said. “Annette was excited to attend the party. They were having the evening meal with the captain, a party to celebrate how well the voyage was going. Benjamin asked me if I’d watch Elsie so Annette could attend with him. I had watched Elsie a few other times, but mainly in the afternoons, to put her down for her naps so Annette and Benjamin could accept other invitations. There were a lot of people they knew on the ship.”

  “I’m sure there were, but—”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, laying a hand on his thigh. “I don’t mean to upset you. It just feels good to talk about it, not keep it locked inside.” Shaking her head, she added, “I tried so hard to not say anything in front of Elsie.”

  His heart softened, even as the touch of her hand made his leg burn. “If it helps, you can tell me anything, but I don’t mean to upset you.”

  She shook her head. “It feels as if the memories want out.”

  He could understand that, and with his arm still around her shoulder, sat back against the davenport, pulling her back, as well. “Then let it out.”

  She leaned her head back, on his arm, and closed her eyes. He tried not to think about how exquisite her skin was—flawless except for a faint, thin scar high on the side of her cheek—or how pleasant she smelled, like springtime when the flowers in the park were blooming.

  “I’d fallen asleep on the sofa,” she said, opening her eyes and staring up at the ceiling.

  There was moisture on her lashes. Tears. Unable to look away, he asked. “Where?”

  * * *

  The memories were flowing, stronger than ever, yet Bridget felt oddly quiet inside. There was no stirring of nausea, no overwhelming fear. Karl’s arm around her shoulders, his nearness, was so comforting, like it had been earlier, when she’d learned about her name on the list of the deceased. And like last night, when he’d laid his hand atop of hers.

  “In the sitting room of Annette and Benjamin’s cabin,” she said. “Elsie was in bed, had been asleep for hours. It was after midnight. I don’t know what woke me, but I remember something felt odd when I stood up. Still and quiet. I thought maybe I’d just gotten used to the constant movement. After checking on Elsie I went back to the sitting room and that’s when a steward entered the cabin. I don’t remember if he knocked. He grabbed a life vest out of the closet and dropped it over my head, told me to get Elsie, put a life vest on her and go to the sundeck.”

  A pang of guilt struck and she pressed a hand to her stomach. “I should have put on her socks and shoes, too, not just her coat, but people were rushing down the corridor. I just grabbed a blanket off the bed, wrapped it around her legs and left the cabin. The steward had said it was just a precaution. That’s what others were saying, too. That it was because the lifeboat drill had been canceled that morning. People were upset that they were doing it then, in the middle of the night.”

  “That’s what they said was happening?” he asked, frowning.

  “I don’t know who said it for sure. I was more worried about Annette and Benjamin knowing where Elsie was, and kept asking for them to be found, asking anyone who had on a uniform. But the seamen were busy, shouting for women and children. One shoved us forward, then picked me up, with Elsie in my arms, and put us in a boat. Someone told two stewards to get in with us and then they lowered the boat into the water. It wasn’t full, but they still lowered it. The stewards didn’t even know how to put the oars in the oarlocks. One of them was the same one who’d told us to leave our cabin. I showed him how to put the oar in the lock and then showed him how to row.”

  A gentle smile formed on Karl’s face as he said, “I met him.”

  “You did? Where?”

  “At the inquiry.”

  She nodded and admitted what she’d realized that night. “He didn’t want me to recognize him, not in the lifeboat or on the Carpathia. I think because he’d never found Annette and Benjamin. It wasn’t his fault. There hadn’t been time. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how to row, either. He was a cabin steward, not a seaman.”

  Karl’s smile remained as he nodded. “That was exactly why he didn’t want you to recognize him. He asked me to give you his condolences.”

  That was not something she’d expected to hear and had to blink slightly at the moisture that created in her eyes. “He did all he could. Rowed until he was nearly exhausted, but the ship we were rowing toward kept getting farther away instead of closer.”

  A frown formed as he looked at her for a silent moment. “What ship? The Carpathia?”

  “No, this was long before the Carpathia arrived. It was when they lowered us into the water. The ship was off in the distance. We could see the lights, but it was sailing away from us. I guess it never saw the flares the Titanic kept sending up. We finally gave up, and not knowing what else to do, we just drifted.” She closed her eyes briefly at the memories coming forth, including those of being so cold. So tired from rowing. “I kept trying not to look, but it was hard not to. The rows of lights on the lower decks, they just kept disappearing into the water, sinking row by row. I kept the blanket over Elsie, even her head. The sounds carried on the water, through the night air. The flares. The screams. Splashes. Creaks and bangs and booms.”

  The memories would have overwhelmed her, if she hadn’t been sitting here, on the davenport next to him. Safe.

  She huffed out the air in her lungs as an image formed that she’d never forget. “Then, it was as if the ship broke in half, because part of it stood straight up in the water and then it all disappeared. Completely sank. We started rowing that direction, to all the people in the water. We had room for more in our boat. But as we approached another lifeboat, a seaman told us we couldn’t get any closer. Some of the people in that boat transferred into ours, and the seaman rowed the emptier boat toward the people, pulled them out of the water. It wasn’t long, though, before the screams stopped and everything went completely silent. Even the crying from those in the lifeboats seemed to stop.”

  Her throat thickened and a shiver rippled her spine at that memory.

  His arm around her tightened and he tugged her closer. She eased her head onto his shoulder, let it rest there as those memories slowly faded. Letting those memories out was like a weight ha
d been lifted off her chest.

  She lifted her head, sat straight in order to finish. “We were adrift. Maybe it was the pull from the Titanic sinking, but we ended up closer again, to where the water was full of bodies. Other lifeboats. Debris, all kinds of things. Someone, I don’t know who, said we had to start rowing again, that a rescue boat was on its way, so we did. We rowed and rowed and rowed. It was almost daylight when the Carpathia arrived.”

  Holding in the urge to lean against him again, she glanced his way, attempted to smile.

  He held her gaze while asking, “What?”

  His eyes were so kind. He was so caring. “It seems silly, but that was the scariest part.”

  “What was?”

  “Climbing aboard the Carpathia. We had to climb a rope ladder, the adults. The children were lifted up in mailbags. I was so afraid when I put Elsie in that bag. I don’t remember climbing up the ladder. I just knew I had to be at the top, to be there when they lifted her out of that bag.”

  “And you were, weren’t you?”

  His smile warmed her heart, made her smile. “Yes, I was.”

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Once again, thank you. If not for you, I wouldn’t have my niece.”

  She nodded, but had to be honest. “I wish your brother and his wife were here, instead of me.”

  Gently, he grasped the side of her face, forced her to look at him. “Don’t wish that. Don’t ever wish that.”

  Deep inside, in crevices she didn’t know existed, she felt his words, and it produced an odd longing. A private, personal one that she’d never experienced. She had to look away because a part of that longing including kissing him.

  A short time ago, when he’d hugged her over by his desk, for a moment, she’d thought he’d kissed the top of her head, but then had realized she must have imagined it. He was being kind. So kind, and she shouldn’t have such silly thoughts.

  Chapter Six

  Karl pulled his eyes, and his hands, off Bridget and stood, drawing in a deep breath. Not from what she’d told him, but because of how she made him feel. He didn’t need any more issues. Especially where a young immigrant was involved. Her retelling of that night made him care, and he couldn’t have that. “I will contact the White Star Line. Someone should still be in the office. I’ll have them remove your name from that list.”

  She nodded without looking up at him.

  He hadn’t ever wanted to kiss someone, to hold them close, like he did right now. So he crossed the room to his desk and pulled the phone close. The less he cared, the better. He’d learned that when he’d attempted to make his mother stay once, on his birthday. His father had been mad. Spanked him. Told him to never do that again. His mother hadn’t cared. Therefore, from that moment on, he told himself that he didn’t care either, until it had become true. The only person he had cared about then was Benjamin.

  “Before you call them, may I ask a favor?”

  Releasing the phone, he turned, nodded. “Yes.”

  Her breasts rose and fell as she drew in a breath.

  He looked away, questioning all over again why everything about her affected him so strongly. So deeply.

  “I went to the hospital today, to see my berth mate and her brother, Catherine and Sean O’Malley, and they told me that a representative from the White Star Line was in to see them. With papers to sign.”

  His attention sparked. “What sort of papers?”

  “I’m not sure.” She shook her head. “They weren’t sure either, but Willard was with me and said they shouldn’t sign anything, and that I needed to talk to you.” She rose from the davenport and walked closer. “Could you find out what sort of papers they are? Catherine said that signing the papers was worth twenty-five dollars.”

  The anger he’d held earlier was still inside him. It had simply been buried while sitting next to her, talking with her. Now, it rose back up with a vengeance. “What hospital?”

  “Um, the—”

  “Never mind.” Finally, there was something he could do. Leaving the desk, he grasped her hand and headed for the door.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To the hospital. To see your friends.”

  “I can’t. Elsie is napping and—”

  “Willard and Mary are here—she’ll be fine.” Pulling open the office door, he shouted, “Willard!”

  The man appeared in the hallway instantly. “Yes?”

  “What hospital are her friends at?” Recognizing the name Willard provided, Karl then said. “We’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “I’ll get Miss Bridget’s hat and coat and then go pull your Packard out,” Willard said.

  “I’ll go pull the automobile out.” Karl then nodded at Bridget. “Get your coat and hat.”

  A fraction of frustration entered him as he made his way out to the carriage house. He wanted action now, and women took forever to get ready to go anywhere.

  He needed to eat those words a moment later, while opening the driver’s door, and saw Bridget standing near the edge of the driveway, waiting.

  “I didn’t mean you needed to go see them,” she said as he walked around the automobile to open her door.

  “I know. But I want to talk with them, find out exactly what was said to them.” He opened the door, waited until she was seated, then closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

  “Tell me about them,” he said once in the driver’s seat and backing out of the driveway. “Why are they in the hospital?”

  “Because they were in the water so long,” she answered, glancing around the automobile, the front seat and the back.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  Shaking her head, she answered, “This isn’t the same one that I rode in with Willard.”

  “This one is mine, the other one is Willard’s.”

  “He has his own automobile?”

  “Well, technically it belongs to me, but it’s Willard’s to use as he wishes.” Changing back to the subject at hand, he asked, “Why had they been in the water so long?”

  “The lifeboats were all gone by the time they got to the sundeck. Those on lower decks hadn’t been told to board the lifeboats as quickly as those in first class. Both Catherine and Sean had life vests and jumped in the water while the ship was sinking. They held on to debris, a table if I recall correctly, and were eventually picked up by one of the lifeboats. While on the Carpathia they became very ill and were taken to the hospital upon docking. They are both feeling better. I was grateful to learn that today.”

  “I’m sure you were,” he answered, knowing her well enough to know that was true. “Did you know them before boarding the ship?”

  “No. My ticket was for a double berth, and Catherine happened to be my berth mate. Her brother Sean was in steerage.” She was quiet for a moment before saying, “Catherine’s ticket was like mine, third-class.”

  He didn’t like the way she sounded. After turning the corner, he glanced her way. “There is nothing wrong with that. Third class.”

  She nodded. “I know. It’s just that if Elsie hadn’t dropped her doll, and if I hadn’t caught it, I—” She shook her head. “I just have to wonder why things happened the way they did.”

  “I don’t know.” He reached over and gave the hands folded in her lap a quick squeeze. It was as if once he’d touched her, now he couldn’t stop. “But I’m glad she did drop Betsy and that you are the one who caught her.” At that moment, when she glanced his way, he knew he’d never spoken truer words in his life.

  He returned his hand to the steering wheel and focused on the road while his mind focused on things it shouldn’t. Like how adorable she looked in her white hat. She was a very pretty woman. Very pretty. He’d realized that the first night he’d seen her, sitting on the sofa and holding Elsie. Even worn out, her hair
windblown and her cheeks chafed, she’d been so lovely it had startled him. Had made his footsteps falter.

  She’d been so quiet and shy, still was, but he had to bite back a smile every time he thought about how quick to anger she’d been when he’d tried hiring her. She hadn’t been afraid of showing it, either.

  “What is it you are going to do in Chicago?” he asked.

  “Open my own boardinghouse,” she said instantly, and with pride that lifted her chin.

  “A boardinghouse?”

  Her profile showed how her lips twitched, fighting back a smile. “Yes. Da’s cousin Martha did that and became a very accomplished woman. She’d traveled back to Ireland several times, telling everyone stories about America. How one can achieve anything they want to here. Da said that’s what I was going to do. Become a very accomplished woman.”

  He nodded while contemplating how her father didn’t want her to become a servant, yet had let her work in his pub. How he wanted her to have her own boardinghouse, which, in a major city like Chicago, or anywhere for that fact, could be dangerous for a woman on her own.

  “A boardinghouse will take hard work,” he said.

  “I’m not afraid of hard work.”

  There was a definite hint of testiness in her tone. “I didn’t say you were,” he replied, not bothering to hide his smile. Still, the idea of a boardinghouse disturbed him slightly. “What about strangers? Will having so many live in the same home frighten you?”

  “No. They won’t be strangers for long. Just like you weren’t a stranger for long.”

  She was right about that, and he doubted there was much she was afraid of. Other than putting Elsie in that mailbag. That had shown on her face when she’d told him about that. “How were you treated on the Carpathia?”

  “Very well. The crew and passengers were very kind and helpful. A dear older man gave me a pair of socks for Elsie. There were no children on the Carpathia, other than those rescued. The socks were much too large for her, but I found a way to tie them on so they wouldn’t slip off. The cabins were all full, but many of the passengers invited others to sleep inside them, wherever there was space.”