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 and 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.