THE GRACE OF THE SEA
Chapter Seven

April 13th
Promises

Heavy eyelids slowly opened in the early morning hours of April thirteenth. Grace rolled onto her back, and was painfully reminded that she had fallen asleep in her dress clothes when her corset dug into her pale skin. She rubbed her red and puffy eyes with her hand, and allowed the memory of yesterday to seep into her present thoughts. An audible sigh was sent into the air, and Grace groggily sat up.

Cassandra was sitting, staring out of their window at the waves. At the noise, she turned and saw Grace slowly waking up. "Good morning," she said, annoyingly upbeat.

"People should be more accustomed to just saying morning." Grace yawned, facing her cousin.

"Oh, dear," she replied. "I knew something unpleasant was going to happen when your father wanted to speak with you." She sat on the bed with Grace and tried to console her. "What happened?"

Grace hesitated, then began to tell of everything that had occurred between breakfast yesterday and now. Cassandra sat and listened as Grace poured everything out to her, with tears beginning to stream down her face from her blue eyes. Cassandra could feel her eyes moistening just listening to Grace’s sobs.

"Don’t you start me crying, too," Cassandra said, wrapping her arms around her broken friend. "You don’t need Tommy. You’re strong, and you’ll be fine." Grace tried to accept her words, but something was telling her that it wasn’t true. Cassandra continued, "By the time we reach New York, you’ll have completely forgotten about him. Don’t forget about Benjamin Wilkes! I’m sure you two will be so happy when you meet that you’ll never give a second thought to this trip on the Titanic."

"I hope so." Grace sighed.

"Come on. Let’s go. Breakfast is going to be served shortly."

This meal seemed to be even more miserable than the last. Grace sat and watched as conversations were held and people enjoyed themselves. She tried to join in, but resorted to just examining her silverware.

That day, Grace discovered much of the detail engraved on the silverware, it being that she observed it through most of breakfast and the majority of tea and lunch. The promenade deck held her gaze as she strolled with her mother and other acquaintances throughout the day.

The blue sky was beginning to glow as streaks of orange and pink began to decorate it with the setting sun. A breeze gently rustled through Grace’s brown hair, and she paused at the railing to gaze out across the ocean. A trumpet was sounded, signaling dinnertime. Grace left the railing and joined her mother on the way back to their staterooms.

Grace looked through her wardrobe, trying to find a dress she wanted to wear for dinner. They were all beautiful, yet she had no desire to wear any of them. She randomly chose an outfit and slipped into it.

The Grand Staircase was alive with the best of society elegantly making their way to the dining area. Grace stopped for a moment at the top of the stairs, looking down at what would consume the rest of her life. She decided that it could be much worse; she could be poor, living on the street, working long and grueling hours in factories for little pay. It was hard for Grace to imagine herself in such conditions, and she quickly shook the picture from her mind and made her way down the stairs.

Standing alone up against a column was none other than Jack Dawson in a tuxedo. Grace recalled the memory of Cal and Rose telling about his heroic rescue the night before and how he would be joining them for dinner. She approached him with a friendly smile; they had talked a few times when she was with Tommy. It was apparent that Jack knew what had happened between Grace and Tommy, as there was an awkward silence after they greeted each other.

"Grace, dear," Elizabeth said, turning around to face her daughter.

"I’ll see you at dinner, Jack," said Grace politely, leaving for her mother’s side. They went down the stairs and heard a quiet murmur of voices as they entered the dining room. The dinner table sat their circle of friends quite comfortably, with Grace enclosed by her father and Bruce Ismay.

During the dinner, Jack made some humorous comment, which made Grace realize just how much she missed everything about Tommy. "The best I’ve seen, ma’am. Hardly any rats." Grace could feel her lips slowly forming into a smile, and was even surprised herself when she released a chuckle. It seemed an eternity since she had last smiled, let alone laughed. She traced this back to when she had been wrapped up in Tommy’s presence.

As the dinner ended, Montgomery escorted Grace back to her stateroom. Once her father had definitely reached the smoking room, she quickly scribbled a short message for Cassandra to find when she returned. The door slowly opened and Grace stole away down the corridor.

The path she took down the stairs and around corners eventually brought her to her destination. Bright and cheerful music was heard outside the door, and Grace smiled as she walked through into the third class common room.

Of all the people dancing, laughing, and drinking, Grace’s eyes searched for just one person, who might not even be there. "Grace?" She turned around, and standing behind her was Tommy, holding a glass of beer. "You...you came."

"I promised I would."

Chapter Eight
Stories