SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jeannie’s eyes glistened with
unshed tears. Two fat tears rolled down Agnes’ cheeks. Mr. Murdoch sat,
transfixed, as they listened to Anne’s story. Here was a side of their son they
had seen rarely, and it had all been the doing of a single woman, a woman who
appeared too meek to make an impression on William Murdoch.
"So, it was your first
kiss?" Agnes asked, her voice wistful.
"Yes." Anne felt her
throat heat up as she blushed. She hadn’t wanted to tell them about the kiss,
but she had been too caught up in her memories to exclude it.
"And your son is in
London?" Mr. Murdoch asked.
"Yes. My adopted son,"
Anne corrected.
"That Ruth woman seems quite
cruel." Jeannie nodded once for emphasis.
"Yes, she was," Anne
agreed with a sigh. "But that’s all in the past now."
"Well, I think it’s time for
coffee." Mr. Murdoch rose from his chair and left the room before anyone
else could see his tears.
The three sat in silence at the
table, each contemplating the story and the people. Finally, Mr. Murdoch
reappeared with coffee, and the group adjourned to the parlor.
"Thank you." Anne
absentmindedly nodded as she accepted her cup of coffee. She took a sip, then
suddenly started. She looked up at Mr. Murdoch from over the rim of her coffee
cup. "How did you know?"
"You mentioned it in your
story." Mr. Murdoch smiled.
Anne smiled faintly. She glanced
around the parlor until the weight in her pocket seemed unbearable. The smile
disappeared from her face, and she dipped her hand into the side of her dress.
"These...these were his," Anne whispered.
She set the wedding band down on
the table with a solemn gentleness. She held the pocket watch by the chain, and
the light danced off the gold piece. She added a book of poetry to the
collection, a worn copy Murdoch had lent her.
"No, dear. I think he wanted
you to have them." Jeannie smiled a tearful smile as her voice choked with
emotion.
"But they’re family
heirlooms--"
Mr. Murdoch shook his head.
"Will viewed you as family. And so do we. Anne, you may not realize it,
but you’ve...given us comfort. You gave Will hope and joy."
Anne cast her eyes to the floor.
She bit her tongue. I will not cry. I will not cry. Anne, don’t cry.
Don’t...
"I think he must have written
the first half of this letter before the accident. The second half is a bit
less composed; he must have been in a hurry." Mr. Murdoch brought a letter
from a desk. He handed it to Anne. "Go on. Read it. There’s something in
there for you."
Anne’s brow creased slightly. She
accepted the letter, and as she opened it, a small scrap of paper fell out. ‘Whatever
obstacles control, go on, true heart, thou’lt reach the goal.’
"It’s part of a poem written
by the man who wrote that book." Mr. Murdoch gestured to the poetry book
on the table. "Read the rest of it."
Anne returned her gaze to the
paper. The first half had been addressed clearly to "Father, Mother, and
Agnes." The second portion, however, seemed to be more or less addressed
to her. She skimmed to the lower half of the page.
Met a lovely woman. Her name
is Anne Stewart. Write her if you have the chance. I am quite fond of her, and
I know you all will love her. She’s made me feel like I did with Ada, only
better. I wish I could become better acquainted with her. She’s a bit shy and
very modest, and seems to think very little of herself. But I know how
wonderful she is. It just takes a bit of time. I know you’ll adore her.
Anne dropped the letter to her
lap. Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes, and she was unable to
finish the message. Agnes slid across the couch and wrapped her arms around
Anne. A single tear slid down Anne’s cheek, and she mentally upbraided herself
for letting it show.
*****
Anne visited with the Murdoch
family for several hours. When she finally returned to her hotel, her timepiece
read half past midnight.
Still fully clothed, she flopped
backwards onto the bed. Anne sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Overwhelmed
by the evening’s events, she finally allowed the tears to come. Thoughts of
Will, Murdoch, Rose, Megan, the Murdochs, and the Titanic swimming about in her
head, she finally drifted off into a restless sleep.
*****
"Anne?" Anne set her
brush down on the vanity. She turned towards the door. "Anne, are you
awake?"
"Yes!" Anne called out.
She rose from her chair and crossed the room to the door. "Mr.
Murdoch!" she exclaimed upon opening the door. "What a pleasant
surprise! I hadn’t expected you."
"No doubt. I forgot to ask
if you would mind spending the rest of your stay here in Dalbeattie at my
home." Mr. Murdoch’s eyes smiled warmly.
"Oh, but sir! I do not wish
to impose upon your family. I am certain your family has enough troubles at
the--" Anne shook her head.
"You are no imposition. And
my wife has taken an instant liking to you. In fact, she demanded that I return
with you, or else she’ll lock me out of the house. So, you see, if you do not
come with me, I shall be forced to fend for myself on the streets for a few
nights," Mr. Murdoch teased.
Anne tried to think of an excuse.
Unfortunately, she could find none. And so, reluctant to impose and be a
burden, she accepted Mr. Murdoch’s offer of hospitality.
*****
"I truly envy you."
Anne broke the silence in the parlor.
"Why?" Agnes glanced up
from her book.
"You have all adjusted to
this so...so well. I am not even a relative, and yet I feel weaker than you and
your family." Anne shook her head, embarrassed.
"Anne, dear." Agnes
shook her head with a soft, knowing smile. She took Anne’s hands in hers across
the couch. "Just as some smile on the inside, some weep on the inside. We
Murdochs are of strong stock. We have learned to put forth a brave front. ‘Tis
better for us all, don’t you agree? Besides, I don’t think Will would want us
all crying all the time."
"I suppose."
"We will always be in
mourning, Anne. Will was a great man. He was a dear brother. But we all knew
his death at sea was a possibility. Did you know our family has made it a rule
that at least one man in each generation chooses a career on land, just because
so many have died at sea? Well, we have. Death is simply something one must
accept. Some days you may feel as though you cannot go on, but you must.
Especially you. You have little Will."
"I know this sounds selfish,
but it’s so difficult. I miss him, Agnes."
"I do, too. Every second of
every minute." Agnes sighed. She glanced askance at Anne. "Did
you...have deep feelings for my brother?"
"Well, I told you about the
shawl and the third class party and the walks and--"
"I know, but sometimes,
that’s just the loneliness talking."
"Agnes, under different
circumstances, had I known your brother longer, I would have hoped that he
would have paid me suit."
"And, if things would have
progressed, you would have been my sister-in-law."
Anne smiled at the thought. She
hadn’t known the family for long, but she had been quite taken by them.
"That would have been nice."
"Would have been? Let’s
pretend it is."
"I’m sorry?"
"We’ll be sisters. Peg has a
family of her own. I have yet to become engaged. The house is lonely. You have
Rose across the ocean and Megan in England. Right here, you have no one to
consider family. I want you to consider me family, Anne. I want to be your
sister. Oh, do say you will!"
Anne stared at Agnes, speechless.
She had been an only child, and her parents had passed away when she was young.
To be accepted by people she hardly knew...