In loving memory of
ROWAN AND JOCELYN BRENNAN,
Father and daughter,
who perished together on Titanic
in the early morning hours of April 15, 1912
A few lines down from that was a second plaque with the words: Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dílis, which she knew was an Irish expression along the lines of “May your faithful soul be at God’s right hand.” Though the memorial had been erected by Sean Brennan just a year after Titanic sank, the Irish plaque had been added by Adele herself several decades later in honor of her father’s passing. Following the tradition, Adele’s son, Jonah, had put in a stone bench nearby, in honor of his mother after she died. As Jonah was still alive and well and living at the Jersey shore, nothing had yet been added in his honor to carry on the tradition. Even at eighty-nine, he was in excellent health. With a start Kelsey realized that there was a good chance he would outlive his own son. How heartbreaking would that be for the poor old guy? They would have to come up with something together to place here in honor of Nolan, a task she’d always thought she and Matt wouldn’t have to face for many years.
Sucking in a deep breath, Kelsey moved over to the stone bench and sat facing the sculpture. Being here always made her feel more connected to her ancestors, but especially to her great-grandmother. She just wished the woman were here now to tell her what to do. Gloria was gone as well. Even her dad was practically as good as gone. That left Walter, who apparently wanted nothing to do with her.
Aching with loss and loneliness, Kelsey reached into her tote bag and pulled out the framed photo she’d grabbed from her office. She held it in her hands and studied it now, a group shot taken in 2007 at her father’s sixtieth birthday celebration. In the picture was the grinning birthday boy himself, Nolan, front and center, and he was surrounded by Gloria, Lou, and several others, including Kelsey and the handsome man next to her, Cole Thornton. Looking at the photo now, she realized that this was the group’s last real golden moment. Not long after that dinner, the dominoes had begun to tumble.
Now here she sat, just about as alone and lost as she’d ever been.
At that moment, Kelsey’s phone began to ring from her purse, and though she intended to send the call straight to voice mail, when she looked at the screen and realized it was Lou, she went ahead and answered.
He said he’d just been calling to see if she was doing okay, but soon he got far more than he’d bargained for, listening as she spilled out the lower points of her day, sharing her grief and dismay over one bad thing after the other. When she was finished, he asked if there was any way he could help.
“Not unless you can convince Walter to let me back in the building. Either that, or turn back the clock a few days so we can keep Gloria alive and make everything work out differently this time.”
Lou gave a sad chuckle. “To be honest, Kels, I’d probably have better luck at turning back time than I would at convincing Walter Hallerman to do anything.”
She sighed, knowing no love was lost between Lou and Walter, the man who had essentially stolen the CEO position at Brennan & Tate out from under him.
“Actually,” he added, “I bet there’s one way I can help. I think I can take a pretty good guess at what Gloria and Walter were fighting about.”
She sat up straight, eager to hear what he had to say. “I’m listening.”
“Okay, well, you know I’ve tried not to burn any bridges with B & T in the hopes that someday my own firm might be large enough to merge back in. In fact, I’ve had a standing offer with your company for the past year, but so far Walter hasn’t been interested in taking me up on it.”
“Yes, I know all about that,” she said, wondering where he was going with this.
“Lately, rumor has it that a much bigger corporation than mine now also has its eye on B & T. On Monday they made an offer too, but theirs is going to be a little harder to refuse than mine was.”
“Why?”
“Because from what I hear, it’s somebody big, which means that if Walter and the board don’t play their cards right, this could turn into a hostile takeover situation. I have a feeling that the reason he and Gloria were fighting was because reportedly she was in favor of the deal. In fact, I heard she was pushing him pretty hard to accept their offer.”
Kelsey thought about that for a moment. She tried to keep her eyes and ears open too, but she’d not picked up one whiff about any of this from anyone. Why had Gloria not confided in her? For that matter, why hadn’t Walter brought her into the loop?
At the thought of a hostile takeover, Kelsey’s chest tightened. If that went through, her family company could end up being dissolved into some big conglomerate. Even if she somehow managed to hang on to her position, Brennan & Tate as she knew it would cease to exist.
“Who is it, Lou?” she asked, almost afraid to hear his answer. “Who’s the big company trying to buy out B & T?”
“I wish I could tell you, kiddo. All I know at this point is that it’s somebody big. That doesn’t exactly narrow things down. Your guess is as good as mine.”
Kelsey thanked him for the information and ended the call. Then she sat there for a long time, looking over toward the memorial. She thought about her great-grandmother and how much this spot had meant to her, how much this whole city, in fact, had been a part of her, had been in her blood.
When Kelsey was about seven or eight years old, Adele had begun taking her for what she called her “Accomplishment Walks” through the city. The woman had been quite old by then but was still very spry. Their walks always started somewhere different, but every few blocks she would stop and point out some nearby building or window and tell her, “I helped fund that company’s start-up,” and then she’d go on to elaborate. She’d say things like, “Twenty-five years ago, I gave them thirty thou for sixteen percent, now they’re at three mil, which means my original thirty is up to almost five hundred. That’s a net profit of about four hundred and seventy thousand dollars. Not bad for an old lady, eh?”
At those times, even when Kelsey didn’t understand what her great-grandmother was actually saying, she still hung on her every word. She’d found the lingo fascinating.
Great-Grandma Adele didn’t just talk money. She also loved to tell Kelsey about the various people who owned the businesses she’d invested in. Often, they were women or immigrants or minorities—folks who couldn’t seem to get much cash the conventional way. But Adele knew a good thing when she saw it, and she liked to say that she often banked as much on the person as on their product or service. Kelsey had always admired Adele, but those walks had helped to reinforce her desire to grow up to invest in people and their businesses as well.
Now she rose and walked over to the memorial, reaching out to run her fingers over the Irish words on the plaque that had been added by her great-grandmother. At that moment, for the first time ever, Kelsey did not feel close to Adele at all.
Was it possible that Rupert was right?
Had she actually been Jocelyn, pretending to be Adele?
Kelsey could think of only one person who might be able to give her some answers: her grandfather, Jonah Tate. As Adele’s son, he just might be able to fill in some blanks. And as Kelsey’s grandpa, he also might be able to soothe some of the hurt.
With new purpose Kelsey turned away from the memorial and headed through the park toward Battery Place, the street that ran along in front. She could run home, throw together a few things, and be on a train by one thirty, heading south on the North Jersey Coast line. If anyone still alive knew Adele Tate’s deepest secrets, it would be Grandpa Jonah.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Kelsey ended up catching the two thirty train from Penn Station, and as soon as they made it through the tunnel, she fell asleep and ended up dozing almost the rest of the way.
Her grandfather was waiting on the platform at Bay Head when she arrived, and he greeted her with a warm hug and a kiss.
&nbs
p; “You look wonderful, Grandpa!”
“So do you, young lady.”
She knew he was lying, that she was tired and disheveled and had never looked worse, but she didn’t say so. He was just being kind.
He put her bag in the trunk of his old Buick and drove south on Highway 35 about twelve miles until they reached the coastal town of Seaside Park, a narrow strip of land nestled between the Atlantic Ocean and Barnegat Bay. His snug little home sat directly across the street from the ocean, with the bay just three blocks behind him. Grandma Tate had died twenty-five years ago, and Jonah had lived here alone ever since. Nowadays he was checked on regularly by a professional caretaker, who also did some light cleaning and laundry, and an agency brought his lunch five days a week. But otherwise he had thus far managed to maintain his independence. As a retired ship captain and member of the merchant marine, if he couldn’t be out on the water, he at least wanted to live as close to it as he could.
Despite the fact that Grandpa Jonah was well off, he lived in a modest way, his needs few and his home small but comfortable. Situated on oceanfront property worth well over a million dollars, the house itself was essentially worthless, comparatively speaking, and he couldn’t have cared less. These days he spent most of his time advocating for causes related to his fellow merchant marine veterans from World War II. When he wasn’t doing that, he could usually be found across the street, sitting on the beach in his favorite grimy old canvas chair, surf fishing for bluefish and striped bass. As the sign that hung in his kitchen proclaimed:
The secret to a happy life
is in the hanging on and in the letting go.
Years ago Kelsey had asked him what that meant, and with uncharacteristic seriousness he had replied, “Let go of your hurts, your grudges, and any possessions that aren’t a necessity. Hang on to your memories, your loved ones, and most of all your faith. Do that, Little Bit, and your life will be more rewarding than you could ever imagine.”
Those in the family whose entire worlds revolved around money—the investing of money, the accruing of money—had trouble understanding his perspective, but his was a life of such peace and simplicity that they had to respect him for it nonetheless. Grandpa Jonah lived quietly down here in the sunny, loamy, salty world of the Jersey Shore, and he really was the happiest, most contented person she had ever known. That said a lot for his lifestyle—and often left her questioning her own after almost every visit.
His spare bedroom had a window facing the ocean, but because of the raised boardwalk across the street and the tall sand dunes beyond, the water wasn’t actually visible. Kelsey settled into that room now and changed into more comfortable clothes. The walls there bore a collection of nautical mementos, not the kind to be had in a gift shop but the real deal. A mounted brass cleat held a robe, and between a faded old maritime flag and a framed photograph of Jonah’s last ship sat a sturdy shelf sporting a compass, several fancy jade boxes he’d picked up in foreign ports, and an old copper ship lantern. On the opposite wall hung a framed map of the Atlantic Ocean and some old navigational charts.
Once Kelsey was settled into the guest room, she went out to the kitchen, where her grandfather was pulling food from the refrigerator and setting it out onto the counter.
“Bacon and eggs all right for supper?” he asked.
It was only five o’clock and she wasn’t hungry yet, but she grinned just the same.
“I love it when you make me breakfast for supper. What should I do—set the table?”
“That’d be fine.” The old sailor whistled as he went about fixing their dinner. Once the bacon began to sizzle on the stove, Kelsey laid the table for two and took out bread for toast. As she worked she couldn’t help but think about how ironic it was that the son of a woman who had nearly perished on Titanic had devoted his life to the sea. Then again, Adele had always been one to confront things head-on. After all, by naming her son Jonah, hadn’t she been stubbornly refusing to let that sea get the best of her in the first place?
“What else can I do?” Kelsey asked, setting out the butter dish.
“Sit down and take it easy,” he replied.
She pulled out a chair at the maple drop leaf table and sat, only then realizing how tired she was despite her nap on the train.
“Tell me about all this brouhaha on the news,” he said as he cracked some eggs in a bowl. “I know you didn’t come all the way down here just for the free omelet. What’s going on, Little Bit?”
Kelsey sighed. “It’s a mess, Grandpa. What have you heard so far?”
“Just what I’ve seen on the news, and then your brother called me this morning and filled me in some more. Sounds like one of our Brennan cousins came to a big event at your office yesterday and stood up and yelled at you, making all kinds of crazy accusations.”
“That’s about right.”
“Too bad he ruined your party. Matt said you were being given some big award or something.”
She glanced down, about to show him her Quarter Club pin but then realized it was in the bedroom, still clipped to her jacket.
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t that big of a deal. All I care about at this point is figuring out the truth about my great-grandmother.” She didn’t add that she also wanted to know how Gloria had really died and why. The thought of that was so overwhelming that she was going to stick with the Adele stuff for now. “Please tell me there’s no truth to that story about Jocelyn stealing Adele’s identity when the ship sank. Can you?”
He turned and set a plate of bacon on the table. “I can try. Nolan told me all about this fella the last time he made a fuss. I don’t believe a word of it.”
“You don’t?” Hope and relief filled Kelsey’s heart. “Is that just a feeling, or do you know?”
“Just a feeling.” He must have seen how her face fell because he quickly added, “She was my mother, Kelsey. Everything I ever knew about her tells me she was a truthful person. I honestly don’t believe she could have assumed someone else’s identity. Adele Brennan Tate could not have been the person she was and lived the life she lived if that life had been based on a lie.” He turned back to the stove for the eggs.
“It does me good to hear you say that. Dad seemed to have some doubts. I don’t know what to think anymore or how we can possibly prove it either way. According to my boss, DNA testing isn’t an option.”
“You don’t need any fancy tests to know the truth,” Jonah replied.
“Then why are there still doubts about this stuff? How could my own father think it’s true?”
Jonah sat down and shook out his napkin, his shoulders looking surprisingly narrow and small as he placed it in his lap. The dear man was showing his age, and his weathered face bespoke the years he’d spent out in the sun and wind. Thank goodness his wits were as sharp and clear as they had ever been.
“Let’s pray,” he said gently. “Then you can tell me about your friend Gloria.”
He reached out and clasped Kelsey’s hand and bowed his head. She bowed hers as well with mixed feelings of frustration and nostalgia. Once upon a time, she’d thought she had a faith in God every bit as strong as her grandfather’s. And though she’d never had a big moment where she’d renounced that faith or intentionally turned her back on God, somehow she had slowly moved Him into the background of her life—until He had disappeared from it entirely.
Why had she let that happen? Had it been yet another facet of her breakup with Cole, part of that slow descent into unfeelingness that her mother had accused her of this morning? Doreen had called Kelsey an automaton, a shell. Automatons and shells didn’t have souls. But she did, and suddenly, in this tiny kitchen filled with the smell of bacon and the distant cry of seagulls and the sight of the most faith-filled person she’d ever known, that soul felt unprotected and alone, like a little girl standing barefoot in the snow and peering in through a window at a cozy, warm room with a fire in the hearth. For the first time in a long, long time, a part of Kelsey wanted to g
o into that room. How odd that until this moment she hadn’t even realized how cold the snow was around her feet.
“Our mighty God,” Grandpa said with soft reverence, and Kelsey’s heart twisted. She missed this.
“We come before You in humility,” Jonah went on. “You are the One who knows all. You are in control of this fallen world. Lord, help our Kelsey to see some sense in what’s going on around her. Give her an extra measure of Your wisdom. Help her in the many decisions she has to make. We thank You for this food, and for Your grace, and for all Your many good gifts to us. Amen.”
“Amen,” Kelsey whispered, tears blurring her vision. She blinked them away and picked up her fork.
“So,” Grandpa said when she’d had a few bites of crispy bacon and perfectly cooked eggs. “Tell me about Gloria.”
“I miss her so much. Did you know her? I can’t remember.”
He shrugged. “I met her once or twice at company parties Mother or Nolan dragged me to, but I don’t recall that we interacted much.”
“She was a genius when it came to business, Grandpa. Well, maybe not as good as Great-Grandma Adele, but she was very good. So professional and intelligent. I looked up to her. She trained me. She taught me so much.”
“Was she well liked?”
“Um, I guess. I mean, she was always very professional, not what anyone might call chummy, but she was nice and decent and helpful. People liked her well enough.”
“Seems Nolan told me she wasn’t happy when he brought that Walter guy in.”
“No, she wasn’t,” Kelsey said. “She stayed on, though, so I assumed she got over it. I thought she had remained loyal to the company to the end.”
Grandpa eyed her keenly. “Thought?”
Kelsey sighed. “Today I did some digging and learned a few things that surprised me. As it turns out, Gloria knew Rupert Brennan was going to come to the ceremony yesterday but didn’t do anything to stop it. I thought that was bad enough, but then I learned that she was the one who encouraged him to come there in the first place! I was shocked. Now I don’t know what to think.”
Echoes of Titanic Page 17
