Sunday Evening, September 12, 1937
The Mid-Atlantic
Dinner that evening seemed to be eternal, and eternally dull, sandwiched in as I was between the Indiana minister, Reverend Doddard, who picked his teeth nervously and quoted scripture, and the opinionated octogenarian on my right, Mrs. Byrne, who droned on about the escalating tensions in Europe and what should be done.
Aunt Verbina was seated across from me, next to the minister’s shrewish wife, who complained to the waiter, and to all of us, about every item of food and drink she was served, and told her husband that next time they would be taking the French Line, and to hell with the price. Her husband, who was busy with his toothpick, simply nodded and said, “Yes, dear, but please remember Matthew 5:34, ‘But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God,’ to which she replied, “I’ll take any oath I please, Edgar, and I’ll thank you to keep your scripture to yourself and be quiet. And stop picking your teeth. It’s disgusting.”
“Yes, dear,” Reverend Doddard said quietly. He dropped his head and began moving his fork around his plate absently, pushing the food into little separate but equal piles. “I’m sorry.”
Dr. Feldmeyer, a psychiatrist on his way to St. Albans, was seated on Mrs. Doddard’s left. “Actually, Mrs. Doddard, you should honor your husband, not belittle him, especially in public.”
Mrs. Doddard looked suddenly furious. “I beg your pardon. Are you married, Doctor?”
“Why no, I’m not, I just meant—”
“Then I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself.”
“They’re not just opinions, dear lady, they’re facts. I may not be married, but I’m an expert on abuse, spousal and otherwise. I wrote a paper on it that was published in the Annual Review of Clinical Psychology.”
“Bully for you,” Mrs. Doddard replied, glaring at him.
“I’d say you’re the bully,” he said, not backing down. “Your husband has been displaying classic symptoms of someone abused.”
“Rude. I’ve never laid a hand, not even so much as a finger, on him.”
“I meant mentally abused, madam. People who have been abused, mentally, physically, or sexually, often exhibit traits of self-doubt, self-loathing, and anger. They often blame themselves for the abuse, sometimes to the point of hurting themselves, or in extreme cases even suicide.”
Reverend Doddard blushed scarlet. “Oh, Dr. Feldmeyer, my wife doesn’t abuse me. I just tend to talk too much sometimes. A bad habit of mine, I’m afraid, of quoting scripture. Hazard of the trade, I guess.” The reverend dropped his fork and began picking his teeth again.
Dr. Feldmeyer looked triumphant. “My point exactly. You, the victim, Reverend, are deflecting blame from your abuser and putting it on you. And I think your constant teeth picking is a nervous habit brought on by her constantly ridiculing you.”
“I don’t constantly ridicule him, that’s ridiculous. Tell him, Edgar, and stop picking your teeth! Honestly, the very idea that I’m a bully—”
“Hitler is the real bully. The bully of civilization,” Mrs. Byrne the octogenarian, said, clucking her tongue.
“Are you comparing me to Hitler?” Mrs. Doddard said.
“What? No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous,” Mrs. Byrne said, staring back at Mrs. Doddard. “But something must be done in Europe, and I’ll tell you all just exactly what should be done and how.” And she proceeded to do so for the next several minutes, much to our dismay, in between biting comments from Mrs. Doddard and Dr. Feldmeyer, who continued to scowl at each other.
When the main course was finally cleared just after nine and dessert was offered, both Auntie and I declined, even though a seven-layer chocolate cake, my favorite, was one of the options. I just couldn’t listen to any more of it, and thankfully, neither could Verbina. We made our excuses, said our good nights, and left, Verbina taking my arm as I guided us out of the dining room and back to her cabin.
“That was excruciating,” she said, as we strolled up the stairs. “I’ll be damned if I know how we’re going to survive another dinner tomorrow night with those people.”
“If I may quote the good reverend, ‘And he who swears by heaven swears by God’s throne,’ Auntie,” I said jokingly, and we both laughed.
“Pardon my French,” she said. “I do feel rather sorry for that man, though.”
“So do I, Auntie, So do I.”
“Perhaps we should dine in the à la carte restaurant tomorrow and avoid the whole lot of them.”
“That, I think, is a terrific plan. I’ll see to reservations in the morning.”
“Thank you, dear. That woman, all of them actually, have given me a terrific headache. I think I shall lie down for a bit.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said.
“What will you do?”
“Me? Oh, I promised Simon I’d meet him in the smoking room for an after-dinner drink.”
Verbina looked up at me with a queer expression. “You’re becoming fast friends.”
“Yes, I suppose so. I must say I’m enjoying his company, that’s all. He’s an interesting man.”
“He seems to be enjoying your company, too. Drinks in the bar together, swimming in the pool, now more drinks in the smoking room…”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, of course, not a thing. But there are so many lovely young ladies on board who I’m sure would enjoy your company, too, and Simon’s. Here we are on our third night out and you’ve not mentioned a single girl you’ve seen or met.”
“Oh, well, he, uh, did say something about going to the Starlight Club afterward. It’s a pretty big deal in the wee small hours of the morning, and sure to be full of lovely young ladies.”
“That sounds nice, then. Have a good time tonight, Heath, but don’t overdo the alcohol. You’re not used to cocktails, late hours, and such.”
“I’ll be fine, honestly. What are your plans after you lie down for a bit?”
“Don’t worry about me. After I rest a while, Myrtle and I will go and listen to the orchestra. Some gentlemen are always available to dance with, and apparently Myrtle has her eye on some Frenchman she met this afternoon. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”
“It’s a date,” I said. “Give my best to Mrs. Obermeyer.” I gave her a peck on the cheek before dashing back down the corridor, my heart racing once more.
The smoking room was on the promenade deck just past the long gallery, with large windows on both sides. Multicolored leather furniture, carpets, and linoleum gave it a smart, sophisticated feel I admired. Simon, resplendent in his tuxedo and black tie, was waiting at a small table by the fireplace. As I approached, he stood and we shook hands before we both sat down again. He had taken the liberty of ordering me a vodka martini with a pickle, and we toasted to the English.
“You wear a tuxedo quite well, Heath,” he said. “You clean up nicely.”
I smiled, pleased at the compliment. “Thank you, and so do you. Tuxedos are so easy. I never have to consider what to wear. I think Verbina, on the other hand, tried on at least three different dresses tonight before deciding on a blue floor-length with a matching bolero jacket, the first one she’d tried on.”
Simon laughed. “Typical. How was dinner?”
“The food was excellent. I had the sirloin of beef with horseradish cream. Our table mates, on the other hand, were a bit boorish, rude, and dull.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Dinner at sea is always a gamble, a roll of the dice. Fortunately, one meets interesting people more often than not. You could ask the maître d’ if he could reseat you and your aunt, perhaps at a table for two.”
“Gee, I’d hate for them to think us impolite. Instead, I thought perhaps I’d make reservations for Auntie and me in the Verandah Grill for tomorrow evening, and explain if anyone asks that we just wanted a change.”
“Good thinking. If the hosts tell you they can’t seat you, feel free to use my name to Oliver at the desk.”
“Thanks, I will. It should be a nice change of pace, though as I say, the food in the dining room has been excellent and plentiful.”
“Yes, it’s easy to overeat onboard. Have you been enjoying the trip overall, then? Table mates notwithstanding?”
“More than I ever would have imagined.”
Simon smiled. “Good, me too. Crossings are generally fairly routine, even boring, but this one has taken an unexpectedly pleasant turn.”
“It’s been anything but routine or boring for me, tablemates notwithstanding, but then this is my first time. I’ve never been abroad before.”
“Ah, a virgin.”
“Yes, sir.” I blushed and laughed, and we drank some more, toasting the Americans this time, and we talked a great deal about everything and nothing until it was nearly midnight.
“I think they’re getting ready to close up the smoking room, Heath,” Simon said, glancing about. “If you’re hungry, they serve a cold buffet supper at midnight in the dining room.”
“Gosh, no, I’m not hungry in the least. Are you?”
“No, not really. Interested in the Starlight Club, then?”
Not wanting the night to end, I nodded. “Sure, it sounds like fun.”
“It can be. It’s one deck up, on the sun deck, almost directly above us. It can also be loud and crowded. The later it gets, the louder it gets, and it can go quite late, sometimes until three in the morning.”
“I don’t mind. I’m not tired at all.”
“Me neither. Lots of single young ladies will be there, anxious to dance with us, I suppose.”
“Oh,” I said, not thrilled with that idea, and I think he could tell by my expression. “Yes, I mentioned that to my aunt. She seemed pleased.”
“Your aunt has your best interests at heart, I’m sure, or what she thinks are your best interests anyway. But if you’re not up for crowds or dancing, we could have champagne in my cabin instead, if you like.”
I swallowed hard, my heart thumping. I wondered if it was visible to the naked eye. “Ah, gee, I’d like that, sure.”
“Great. Let’s go, then.” He signaled for the waiter and paid our bill, and when he’d finished I stood up and nearly lost my balance.
“You all right?” he said, standing up and reaching out an arm to steady me.
“Yes, fine,” I said. “Maybe I’ve had one too many martinis.”
He smiled that smile again, his beautiful eyes sparkling in the light. “The sea’s gotten rougher, and we’re rolling and pitching a fair amount. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall over.”
“Thanks,” I replied, thrilling at the touch of his hand on my arm. His cabin was on A deck, and we climbed down the two flights of stairs side by side, his hand still on my elbow, as we made idle chitchat until we reached his door. He unlocked it and then ushered me in, closing it behind him and turning on the dressing table lamp, which gave off a soft, pink glow.
“So, this is your cabin.”
“Yes, do you like it?”
“Sure, it’s charming. I thought you’d be in a suite, though, being a baron and all.”
Simon shook his head. “Suites are a waste of money. I spend little time in my cabin on board and do little entertaining, present company notwithstanding.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Amazing how every cabin on board has a different look, a different feel.”
“But the beds are the same. Soft and comfy.”
“Oh, yes. I suppose they are. The same, I mean,” I said, glancing at the double bed and then back to him. “Mine’s been very comfortable.”
“You’re nervous.”
“Me? No, I’m not, not at all,” I said, which wasn’t entirely true.
“Good, you’ve no need to be. Would you like some champagne, then? Or a martini with a pickle?”
“No, I’m good, real good,” I said, holding on to the back of a chair. I could feel the room rocking up and down and side to side, and I felt slightly nauseous.
“Yes, you are good.”
“I am?”
“You are. Though you look a little pale, even in this light. Should I ring for some peppermint tea?”
“No, thanks, I’m a little queasy, but I’ll be fine.” I didn’t want any interruptions just then. “You look really handsome tonight, Simon, if you don’t mind my saying so. That’s a really handsome tuxedo, I mean. It fits you well.”
“I don’t mind you saying so at all. I couldn’t help but notice you constantly staring at me, Heath, from the time we met on deck. And I must say, I’ve found myself staring at you, too.”
“At me? Why?” I said, genuinely surprised.
“Because you’re a handsome man, though you don’t seem to know it. Tall, dark hair, green eyes, nice build, broad shoulders. You filled out your bathing costume quite well, too.”
I felt myself blush, my face on fire. “Oh, well, gee, uh, thanks. You looked awfully good in yours, too.”
“Thanks.” He moved closer to me and touched my left cheek with the back of his right hand. “You’re blushing.”
“It’s just hot in here, that’s all.”
“You’re hot in here.”
“Yes, I am. I mean, maybe we should turn the fan on or open a porthole or something.”
“Or lie down.”
I backed away a bit, confused, excited, nervous, and scared. “What?”
He slid off his tuxedo jacket and undid his bow tie, tossing them both over the desk chair. “If you’re still feeling queasy, I mean. You might feel better on the bed, horizontal.”
“Oh, right. No. I’m fine being vertical.” I couldn’t take my eyes off him, standing there in his dress shirt and trousers, so attractive, so desirable. He undid his collar button and the first few button studs, along with his cufflinks, and set them on the dresser before he kicked off his shoes.
“I like you, Heath, and I think you like me, too, unless I’m painfully mistaken. Am I mistaken?”
I tried to speak, but no words came out, so instead I just slowly shook my head. I was trembling.
“Good, I’m glad. I didn’t think I was wrong, but I can’t be too careful. I trust you can be discreet?”
“Discreet? Me? Gosh, yes. I’d never say anything, ever. Would…would you?”
He looked deeply into my eyes and smiled mischievously. “About what? We’re just two friends getting to know each other, that’s all.” He moved closer to me again, slipped my jacket off, and undid my tie, adding them on top of his. Then he undid the first few buttons and studs of my shirt while I stood there trembling. He took off my cufflinks next, setting them on the dresser next to his.
“Have you ever done this before, Heath?”
I swallowed. “Done what?”
“This, with a man. With anyone, really.”
Once again I shook my head, my lips quivering. I didn’t think kissing Doris Kincade and copping a feel in ninth grade counted, or that time my second cousin Chuck and I masturbated in front of each other in a tent while looking at a picture of Jean Harlow in a swimming suit when I was seventeen.
He took my head in his chin and held it gently. Then, almost as if in slow motion, his lips grazed mine. “Should I stop? Would you like to leave?”
This time I found my voice. “No, and no. I’m okay. I want to stay.”
He hugged me then, wrapping his strong arms about my body and kissing my neck, which caused me to nearly faint. We pulled apart just enough for our lips to meet again, tenderly at first, then passionately, aggressively. He undid the rest of my shirt studs and buttons as I kicked off my shoes, and then I tripped and fell on the floor trying to get my socks off. He came down with me and we lay there laughing for a few moments before he rolled on top of me and kissed me again. Quickly his massive hands were at my belt buckle and I felt my trousers and then my undershorts being pulled down. I was naked on the floor of his cabin, raging with an excitement I’d never felt before. Soon he was naked, too, and then, almost too soon, definitely too soon, it was all over. We both lay there panting and sweating for a while, and then he got to his feet and padded to the bathroom. I heard water running, and then he returned holding a wet cloth.
“I warmed it for you. You’d better clean up.”
I wiped myself as I sat up. “Thanks.”
“Cigarette?”
“No, I don’t smoke.”
“Mind if I do?”
“Not at all.”
I watched him standing naked as he lit up and inhaled, then exhaled a cloud of white gray smoke that curled up to the ceiling, the tip of the cigarette glowing amber in the dark. “I only smoke occasionally. Like after this.”
“Has there been many times like this for you?” I said, not really sure I wanted to know.
He picked up his white boxer shorts and pulled them on, steadying himself against a chair as he did so. “Not many. A few. I have to be careful. Are you okay?”
“I couldn’t be better. A little cold, though, all of a sudden.”
“Right, me too. We’d better get dressed. Besides, it’s after one in the morning. Your aunt may be wondering, if she’s waiting up.”
“Oh, let her wonder. I’m an adult.”
“Yes, you are, very much so, and I’m glad of it,” Simon said, pulling on his undershirt and then his dress shirt. “But your aunt is a nice lady, and we shouldn’t worry her.”
I sighed and stood up. “I suppose you’re right.” I picked up my clothes and dressed slowly, putting the soiled washcloth on the back of the chair. “Can we do this again?”
Simon smiled, and then walked over and kissed me gently. “I’d like that, Mr. Barrington, but I’m not so sure we should have even done it once.”
“What? Why? It was wonderful. I mean, I thought it was wonderful. Didn’t you? Did I not do it right?”
He laughed and hugged me. “You were perfect, and it was wonderful.”
“I thought so. We’re like Heathcliff and Catherine from Wuthering Heights. Passionate, all-consuming—”
“And look what happened to them.”
“Well, it will be different for us.”
“We don’t know each other very well.”
“I think we know each other pretty well after that.”
He smiled indulgently. “Yes, but that’s only a part of getting to know someone.”
“What do you want to know? Ask away, my life is an open book.”
He handed me my tie. “Here. Your life may be an open book, but mine’s not.”
I took the tie and draped it around my neck as I stared into his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I have a past, Heath. Secrets, things you wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me. I’m great at keeping secrets, and I’m an understanding fellow.”
“My secrets are deep, wrapped in a mystery.”
“I’m good at mysteries, too.”
He continued to get dressed. “Yes, so you’ve said. You want to be a detective someday. But right now you’re sweet, young, too trusting, and a bit naïve.”
“I’m not naïve, and I’m twenty-two, not a kid anymore.”
“I think we’ve established you’re not a kid anymore. And I’m thirty, nearly thirty-one, with a lot of baggage.”
“I can handle baggage with the best of ’em. You can trust me.”
“Can anyone really trust anyone? Can we even trust ourselves?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Look, Heath, how deep is the ocean?”
“How deep is the ocean? What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Just answer me.”
I thought for a moment. “Well, gee, I don’t know, exactly. Pretty deep. I know Lake Michigan has some deep parts, with lots of shipwrecks, but nothing compared to the Atlantic.”
“Some scientists believe the ocean is over eight thousand meters deep. And some secrets are deeper than that, and should stay that way.”
“I don’t care about your secrets. I don’t care about your father’s death or your sister’s, or the Quimby curse, or that young man on the Aquitania or anything!”
He looked taken aback. “Who told you about all of that?”
“Mrs. Obermeyer mentioned it.”
Simon looked disgusted. “Goodness, that woman does like to talk. Such an old gossip. I wonder where she gets her information from? But I had nothing to do with that man’s death on the Aquitania. I only just met him on board. He died from a heart condition. Still, rumors persist about that, my father, my sister—”
“I don’t care. I know you’re not a murderer, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m glad you think I’m not a murderer, though some people do.”
“What other people think doesn’t matter to me. It’s none of my business. I think you’re swell.”
“I think you’re pretty swell, too, but there’s also something else you should know, something I don’t think even Mrs. Obermeyer is aware of.”
“What?”
“I’m considering getting married.”
“I don’t…what? Married? To a woman?”
“Yes, that’s generally how it works. I was engaged last year to someone else, but it didn’t work out. This girl’s name is Ruth. She’s one of the St. Jameses of Philadelphia. I’ve just been to see them this trip.”
“But how? Why?”
“It’s what I am expected to do. Marry, produce an heir, grow old, and die.”
“That sounds dreadful.”
“I suppose it is in some ways, especially to people like you and me.”
“But you told me earlier that wasn’t important. You said you just want to live your life, to be who you are.”
“That’s still true, Heath. But I can’t be selfish, either. And I can’t just keep going from smoky encounter to smoky encounter the rest of my life. Maybe it would be best if I settled down.”
“So, I’m just a smoky encounter?”
He sighed. “No, that’s the hell of it for me. You have a name, a personality, and I’d like to consider you a friend.”
“Do you have many friends, Simon? I don’t mean like this, but friend friends.”
He inhaled deeply and blew out a large cloud of smoke. “I still keep in touch with a few chaps from boarding school, but we’re not close. I can’t be honest with them. They wouldn’t understand. And the old local constable and I go back a few years, but in general I’m out here in this world by myself now days. How about you?”
“A few fellows, I suppose, but like you, I can’t be honest with them about myself. Besides, most of them are all interested in different things than I like. Football, basketball, girls—”
Simon chuckled. “Sounds very all American. In England it’s cricket, rugby, and girls.”
“Girls are universal, I guess.”
“And it’s a better world because of it. Sometimes I think they should be in charge. There would be less war and less anger. Girls are just as smart as men, and I think they are more compassionate and kinder.”
“I suppose so. Is this Ruth St. James compassionate and kind? And is she pretty?”
“She’s pretty enough. And she seems kind, I suppose, but I barely know her, to be honest. Her father, Wendall St. James, arranged it all. It’s not official yet. Nothing’s been announced, and I haven’t even made up my mind for sure. But he’s made it known he wants Ruth to be the next Lady Quimby.”
“Do you have a photograph of her? A lock of her hair? A love letter with a lipstick print?”
Simon gave me an odd look. “Uh, no. Like I said, I don’t really know her all that well at this point. Why?”
“Just something someone asked me once about a girl I’d invented. A fiancée.”
“Oh, well, I can assure you Ruth St. James is very real and very much a woman.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”
“Because I like you. I didn’t want to scare you off, and I didn’t think it mattered.”
“But you think it does now?”
He shrugged his shoulders and put out his cigarette. “I don’t know, maybe.”
“It matters to me. If nothing’s been announced, you don’t have to go through with it.”
He went to one of the portholes and stared out at the darkness. “That’s true. You’ve confused me.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And you’ve certainly confused me. I really like you, Simon,” I said as I walked up behind him.
He turned and touched my cheek with the back of his hand again and smiled. “I know you do, more than I thought you would, and I like you, too, more than I thought I would, which is why I had to tell you, don’t you see? Look, we arrive in Cherbourg on Tuesday. Let’s enjoy our remaining time on board, and then you and your aunt can come see me at Heatherwick on Friday. We’ll have a nice visit, and then you’ll both go back to Milwaukee.”
“I don’t want to go back to Milwaukee.”
Now he sighed. “But you have to, and I think I have to get married.”
“Why?”
“Maybe it will help me move forward from the past. It’s ironic, in a way. My getting married and having children is what my father always wanted. It’s what we fought about most. He had fiery red hair and a temper to match. But now that he’s gone, well, I see perhaps he may have been right.”
I took a step back and looked at him in the dim light. “I don’t know what your past is exactly, but I don’t think burying it deeper will help you move forward. I think only uncovering it will do that, bringing it to light, sharing it.”
He looked startled for the briefest of moments. “You may be wise beyond your years, Heath. But you have a whole life ahead of you, fresh and new.”
“And I want to share it with you. I could stay on, be your manservant or something, your valet. Your wife wouldn’t have to know.”
“My God, you’re a treasure. But that wouldn’t be fair to you, and it would be torment for me. Maybe if I marry, the Quimby curse will be broken.”
“You don’t really believe in curses, do you?”
“I don’t know. I never used to, but you’ve no idea what my life has been like, what all has happened, what’s really happened. When I finally came to terms with my feelings, I felt ashamed and frightened. Blaming it on the curse made it easier to accept.”
“I can understand that. We all believe and do things that make our lives easier. But it’s not real, Simon. I’m real, you’re real. Together we could be very real, flesh-and-blood real.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have been hiding behind that curse, I don’t know. But I do know that right now you should go back to your cabin and get some sleep. I’ll see you after breakfast, okay?”
I had a lump in my throat, and I felt tears in my eyes that I didn’t want him to see. “Okay, I’d better go.” I started to leave.
“Heath?”
I stopped but didn’t turn. “Yes?”
“We still have all day tomorrow and tomorrow night. Plus the weekend at Heatherwick. And you can write me, if you want. When you get back to Milwaukee, I mean, but you’ll have to be discreet.”
“I’d like that. Will you write back?”
“I will.”
“And promise me something?” I said, my voice quavering.
“What?”
“That you’ll think seriously about not getting married.”
“I’ll think about it, Heath, but someday you’ll meet someone else and forget all about me. Hurry up now, get going.”
I nodded but I’m not sure if he noticed, and then I proceeded to the door and down the passageway to the stairs, holding onto the walls to steady myself against the roll and pitch of the ship crashing through the waves.