by Diane Hoh
But Max must have thought she was because, as they reached the rail and stood there looking out, he put an arm around her shoulders. Elizabeth did not dislike the idea, but her immediate response was, If my mother came upon us now, heads would roll. Mine and Max’s. Still, she did not shrug off the arm, or comment on his boldness.
“Look,” he said as they both stood gazing out across the dark water, “if I sounded unsympathetic when you first mentioned wanting to go to college, I’m sorry. I guess it’s harder for girls to do what they want. I don’t really know why that’s true, but I think it is. Am I right?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. Do your parents bother you constantly about finding a good wife?”
“No, not really. Just a stable, financially rewarding career.”
“That’s what I thought. It’s different for boys. Your parents want you to go out in the world and make your mark. Marriage seems to be the only thing my parents ever talk about. Their only child, their daughter, must find a good husband. As if that were the only option open to me. As if I weren’t capable of anything but marrying.”
“Now, why do I think that isn’t even close to the truth?”
“I don’t know. You don’t know me very well. My parents, on the other hand, have known me all my life. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m not suited for anything but marriage.”
Max laughed. “You’re right about one thing. They have known you all your life.”
Elizabeth didn’t laugh. “What if they are right?” She sighed heavily. “What if wanting to get an education is just a silly dream? What if I try it, and fail? That would be so humiliating.”
“You won’t fail.” His voice was firm, allowing no argument. “And if it’s what you want, you should try it.” He slipped his arm off her shoulders and turned toward her. “Elizabeth, look at me.”
When she did, the expression on his face was one of earnestness, and his eyes were serious. “If you don’t try, you’ll wonder for the rest of your life how different things might have been.”
“If I were happy in the marriage, I wouldn’t.” Though she couldn’t imagine herself ever being that happy with Alan Reed. When had she ever seen him laughing?
Max shook his head. “I don’t see how you can be happy if you’re not doing what you want. I just don’t see how that’s possible.”
She lifted her chin. “And what about you? Are you going to do what you want? You’re going back home. Doesn’t that mean you’re giving in? The minute you’re back in your parents’ Manhattan town house, aren’t they going to expect you to do what they want?”
He turned back to the rail. “Oh, I’m not going back there. Did you think I was? I’m getting my own place. It won’t be much. I can’t afford much, and I’m not taking any more money from my grandmother. But it’ll be my own, and that’s what I want. I’ve decided to study art in earnest. That’s why I left Paris. Because I know what I want now.”
“If you really want to study art, isn’t Paris the perfect place to do it?”
“No. The people I met there are already artists. They may not be selling yet; most of them aren’t. But they already know how to do what they need to do. Me, I’m just an amateur. I need a lot more study, and there is a man in New York who has agreed to teach me. In return, I’ll run errands for him, fix things in his apartment—yes, I do know how to fix things, thanks to my grandfather. He knows how to fix everything, and taught me some of what he knows. The man who will be giving me art lessons is a well-known artist who takes on few students.” Max smiled. “And he is not a friend of my parents, in case you’re wondering. He’s never met them. He’s taking me on because of some work I sent him.?
“Max, that’s wonderful! You really are going to be an artist!”
“We’ll see. I don’t know that yet. All I know is, I’m going to try my best. I have to.” He reached out to place a hand on Elizabeth’s cheek. Holding her eyes with his own, he said, “And I think you have to try, too. Whatever it takes, Elizabeth. Or you’ll spend your entire life unhappy and wondering.”
His touch was warm on her cold cheek, and gentle. He had just lectured her, and she wouldn’t have accepted that from anyone else. She was wondering why she was willing to accept it from him, and she was also thinking how close his lips were, just inches away, when her mother’s voice cut into the night air like a knife.
“Elizabeth! What do you think you’re doing?”
Chapter 11
Thursday, April 11, 1912
“What were you thinking?” Nola Farr cried. “You were practically kissing him! In public!”
They were back in the Farrs’ stateroom, mother facing daughter, father rising from the desk where he had been penning a note to a friend in New York. He was frowning in irritation at this latest discord. “Kissing whom? What’s happening here?”
Elizabeth’s face was scarlet. “She embarrassed me in front of Max Whittaker, that’s what’s going on! Max and I were just talking, that’s all.” She whirled toward her father. “And the next thing I knew, she was dragging me down the stairs by my sleeve, as if I were a criminal.”
“You were acting like one.”
“Kissing is not a criminal offense, Mother. And I wasn’t kissing him, anyway. I told you, we were just talking.” But I wanted to kiss him, she almost added. She thought better of it at the last moment. As it was, there would be no discussion about her college plans on this night, not with her mother so angry. Unless her father—
“Elizabeth, your mother is right,” he said, dashing what little hope she had left. “You know how people on a ship gossip. Alan has friends on this voyage. You don’t want to ruin your life over some little shipboard flirtation.”
Until that moment, Elizabeth had never intended anything more than that with Max. He was interesting to talk to, he did seem to listen when she talked, and she liked the attention she got from other passengers when he was with her. It would be fun to stroll the promenade with a handsome young man at her side. But Max was planning to defy his parents. That would leave him poor, at least until he became a famous painter, which could take years. How could he be of any help to her if he was struggling himself? He couldn’t. So there could be nothing serious between them.
“If he wasn’t the son of friends,” her mother said, turning toward the mirror to unpin her hat, “I would see to it that you did not spend another moment with young Whittaker again during the remainder of our voyage. But if Enid heard about it, she would be deeply offended.” Dropping the hat on the bed, she turned to face Elizabeth. “I shall be keeping a close watch on you, for your own sake. I only wish to protect you from yourself, Elizabeth. You are headstrong, and I will not stand by and see you ruin your chances of a good, secure life over the likes of Max Whittaker. He is going to be very poor, you know. Biting the hand that feeds him, foolish boy. He will rue the day he turned his back on poor Enid and Jules, and I will not have my daughter suffering along with him.”
“Oh, Mother,” Elizabeth said, “it should be my choice if I wish to suffer, not yours.”
Nola Farr laughed, the sound trilling through the room like music. “Darling, do listen to yourself. You do not know the first thing about suffering. Nor do you want to, I promise you that. You would not be good at it.” Her voice hardened suddenly. “I mean what I say, Elizabeth. I won’t stop you from seeing him, but I had better not come across a scene like the one I witnessed up on deck a few moments ago, do you understand me?”
She didn’t add, “If you disobey…,” but Elizabeth heard the threat implicit in her words. If you disobey, you have no chance of ever going to college.
Not that the chance was there, anyway. It probably wasn’t. Her mother seemed determined to see her daughter married to Alan Reed.
Do I really want to give up every chance I have, however small, for someone I hardly know? Elizabeth thought.
Max couldn’t be that interesting.
She made one last try. “That really isn’t fair, Mother. Max a
nd I weren’t doing anything.”
But Nola was impervious. “And it is my intention to see that you never do. Go along to bed now, Elizabeth, we’re all tired.” Removing her diamond earrings and tossing them on the vanity, she cried, “Oh, I wish we were getting to New York tomorrow! This trip is not as delightful as I had hoped.”
Elizabeth’s father looked at her as if to say, Now see what you’ve done, and went to his wife to comfort her.
In disgust, Elizabeth went into her own cabin and shut the door.
It was all Max’s fault. He shouldn’t have been looking at her like that, shouldn’t have placed his face so close to hers. It was his fault. But she was the one being punished.
Elizabeth sank down on her bed, marveling once again at how steady the ship was. She might have as easily been sitting on a bed in a hotel on solid ground, so smoothly were they sailing. If I had a talent like Lily, she told herself defensively, I could earn my own way in the world, too. I wouldn’t have to do what my parents say. But the only thing I seem to have any talent for is shopping.
As if to add to her misery, the injured ankle began to throb again.
Quiet tears slid down Elizabeth’s face as she lay down on the bed and pulled the embroidered coverlet over her.
In the third-class general room, Katie shared none of Elizabeth’s misery. After the delicious evening meal, when everyone returned to the common area to relax, Brian talked her into taking a seat at the piano. With very little coaxing, Katie launched into some of her favorite songs. She had a rich, full, strong voice that soared out over the room and rendered everyone silent. Even the children stopped playing to listen. The men lit their pipes and leaned forward, elbows on knees, listening intently. The women sat with their hands folded, rapt expressions on their faces.
When she finished, wild applause shook the room. It warmed Katie’s heart. She tried not to make too much of it. After all, she told herself, entertainment was limited on the ship, and her “audience” wasn’t paying, so they probably weren’t expecting too much. It would be different in a theater in New York City. People would not be so quick to applaud an untrained voice such as her own.
Still, it did thrill her to hear people clapping, stamping their feet, and whistling in approval of her singing.
Someone took up the pipes then and people began dancing. Katie, flushed with pride, felt like dancing, too. When Paddy came over to join her at the piano, she hoped he’d ask her.
Instead, he frowned down at her and said in a low voice, “So, what is it that Brian is doin’ with that Swedish girl? Did the two of you have a fallin’-out, then?”
Katie glanced over her shoulder to see Brian dancing by with Marta. “A fallin’-out? No. Why would we?”
Paddy sat down on the bench beside her. There was no room to spare, and she found herself sitting close enough to him to feel the warmth of his body. The sensation was not unpleasant. “Then why is he makin’ eyes at a strange girl?”
Katie laughed. “Marta’s not strange at all. She’s very nice. Have you not met her?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.” Paddy glanced over at her. “You’re not mad, then?”
“No. Why should I be?”
Paddy shrugged. “No reason, I guess. If you’re doin’ fine, then, I guess I’ll find me someone to dance with.” He got up from the bench and stood looking down at her. “If you’re feelin’ so fine, why aren’t you dancin’?”
Katie laughed. “No one’s asked me.”
“Well, I’m askin’, then,” he said brusquely. “Might as well dance with me as with some other fool.”
It wasn’t the most gracious invitation she’d ever had. But Katie did feel like dancing, and she happened to know for a fact that Patrick Kelleher cut a fine swath on the dance floor. She’d seen him, more than once, in the church hall, spinning some comely lass around the room.
“Might as well,” she said with a wry smile. She slid off the bench and stood up, to find his arms waiting for her. And then the odd thing was, the minute she stepped into those arms, Katie Hanrahan felt like she’d come home. The sensation shocked her. She wasn’t prepared for it, had never felt anything like it before. She’d never had a steady suitor, hadn’t wanted one, and if she had been looking for one, never would have looked in Paddy’s direction. Brian’s, maybe, but never Paddy’s. Mostly because it was hard to get a good look at Paddy, so surrounded was he by other girls.
The feeling dismayed Katie. She didn’t want to feel this way at all, and especially not about a young man who didn’t have both feet solidly on the ground.
But there it was, whether she liked it or not, a warm, heady sensation that swept over her from her head to her toes as Paddy, smiling down at her, led her around the floor.
She let herself enjoy the delicious giddiness of it as long as the dance lasted. That much she gave herself. But the minute the pipes stopped playing, she took her emotions in hand, reining them in firmly. Saying a polite, “Thank you, Paddy, that was very nice,” she hurried off to find Eileen. Her cheeks felt warm, her hands were shaking slightly, and her knees felt as if they might buckle at any moment. But she kept her head high and repeated to herself under her breath as she walked, “Not Paddy, not Paddy, anyone but Paddy. He’s a heartbreaker, that one.”
That steadied her, and by the time she located Eileen in a noisy corner, her heart had ceased its fluttering and she was able to speak in a normal voice.
But more than once during the rest of that evening, she found her eyes, against her will, drawn to tall, handsome Patrick Kelleher, and felt the sense of wonder sweeping over her again. Paddy? Paddy made her feel as if she’d found something she hadn’t even known she was looking for.
No wonder she’d thought she felt something when he kissed her.
Though she danced with him again twice during the course of the evening, she kept her eyes averted from his, made little conversation, and pretended to be relieved when the music stopped.
And when he said, as he led her back to Eileen, “I think you’re pinin’ for Brian and you’re too proud to admit it,” she didn’t deny it. It seemed best to let him think that. Better than lettin’ him know it was him she was suddenly pinin’ for. She could hardly believe it herself. Had the sea air done something to her brain, then?
She’d be fine once they got to dry land. Paddy would go his way and she’d go hers and she’d forget all about that warm, safe feeling when she’d stepped into his arms. She’d be herself again.
The thought didn’t comfort her as much as she’d expected it to.
Chapter 12
Friday, April 12, 1912
“If you eat all of that,” Katie commented at breakfast on Friday morning, addressing Paddy, “even this great unsinkable ship will be dragged down beneath the weight of it.” She was staring in disbelief at the dishes before him, containing an assortment of foods that included a steaming bowl of oatmeal, a hearty portion of Irish stew, strips of liver and bacon, and chunks of French bread. “The whole Hanrahan clan doesn’t eat that much food in a day.” Unperturbed by Katie’s comments, Paddy slathered a layer of marmalade on a chunk of bread and popped it into his mouth. When he had finished chewing and swallowed, he grinned at Katie. “I’ll not be sinkin’ the ship. But I’m mindful that soon as we’ve landed in New York, food will be a scarcity until I’m earnin’ a livin’ wage, so I’d best eat while I can.”
Katie laughed. “You’re stocking up, is that how you’re lookin’ at it? Like a squirrel storin’ nuts for the long winter ahead?”
“Aye. Bri’s right about one thing. Could be many a year before I sell any of me writin’. And since I’m not goin’ to be on a farm like Bri, I won’t be gettin’ free food.” He was serious now.
Katie had never told Paddy her true ambition in life. She was afraid he’d laugh at her. She had no experience as a paid performer, none at all. He’d think she was reachin’ for the moon.
Yet she found herself wanting to tell him. She wanted to share
her dream with him. Brian knew, and he hadn’t laughed at her. And being free-spirited himself, Paddy should applaud her ambition. Why did she think he wouldn’t?
Paddy sent a dark glance in the direction of Brian, sitting further down the table, his head bent in response to a question Marta had asked him. “What is it that he’s up to with that Swedish girl?”
Katie kept a straight face. “He’s heard there are many Swedish people in Wisconsin, and so he’s asked Marta to teach him her native language.”
Paddy scowled at her. “That’s what he’s been tellin’ you?”
Laughing, Katie said, “Paddy, I was jokin’. Anyways, Brian isn’t you. He doesn’t flit from one female to another, makin’ up stories as he goes along.”
An expression that on anyone else Katie would have seen as hurt appeared on Paddy’s face. But since she hadn’t meant anything unkind and was simply speaking the truth, she didn’t see any reason why Paddy should be offended. “Marta’s very nice,” she added. “They’re both interested in farming. Maybe that’s what they talk about.”
She decided not to suggest again that Paddy become acquainted with the Swedish girl. That could be a mistake. Not that Paddy had ever stolen any of Brian’s girlfriends. He wouldn’t do such a thing. But Marta herself could be drawn to the handsome, charming rascal. Katie knew of at least one instance where that had been true, and Brian had been despondent afterward for weeks. Not Paddy’s fault, of course, and Brian hadn’t seemed to blame him. What had surprised her was Paddy blamed himself, walking around with his head hanging down in remorse, his eyes full of guilt. He’d bought Brian a book Bri had been wanting, had even done his household chores for him, as if by doing so he could make up for the girl’s fickle heart.
Yet he himself broke hearts all over County Cork.
Katie didn’t understand. Her ma said, “’Tis the code between brothers. Paddy feels he took somethin’ of his brother’s, though it was the girl herself who was foolish. And he takes it to heart, as he should. Betrayin’ blood leads to a bitterness of the soul that ’tis eternal. There’s no forgivin’ it.”
