Chapter XIX #3
Winona’s glistening eyes glinted in the light.
She sucked in a steadying breath, presumably to prevent the large sob she was trying to hold back.
Mae's jaw tightened. For an instant, Mae thought Winona was going to envelop her in a hug, but thankfully, she just twisted her hands in her lap more vehemently.
Mae turned her back to remove her corset and let down her hair.
She felt uncomfortable with Winona’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t stand the constriction any longer.
Shimmying down on the bed, she tucked her hand under the pillow.
If this backfired on her, it could cost her catching up with Simon.
Winona had better behave and follow the rules.
They would be examined even more now that the porter knew.
As Mae lay still, she feigned sleep. The warmth from Winona’s body reminded her of Henry.
It had been four nights since she had lain beside him.
Four nights since she had seen his warm smile and felt his familiar touch.
Winona’s breaths were different from Henry’s.
They were softer without the rasp of a slight snore on the inhale.
The even rhythm of each breath indicated the deep sleep of her new companion. Mae exhaled a long, slow breath.
From her position on her side, she angled her head so she could watch the moonlight shimmer on the passing trees.
The snow reflected the moonlight, and a glowing sunbeam shined directly into their curtained-off area.
Compared to the dinginess of the city, the pristine landscape was so different.
At home, the snow was always dirty, and the moon barely penetrated the streets and alleys created by the tall buildings.
As the trees passed, she thought about Henry.
About how he would never get to witness this beautiful landscape full of wide-open space and bright, glistening expanses of snow.
He wouldn’t see the spring return and spread its warmth across the city.
He wouldn’t get to have another baseball pass with Simon.
Simon—he wouldn’t see Simon grow up into a man.
Or get married. Or have children. Her heart froze in her chest. And now she may not either.
Her fingertips grew cold even though they were buried beneath the blankets under her chin.
A single tear snuck out of the corner of her left eye and cascaded down to the flat pillow.
She tried to breathe shallowly through her mouth as her nostrils swelled with grief.
In. Out. In. Out. Then another tear welled up in the corner of her right eye.
She tried to blink it back, but the liquid pooled and overflowed the crest of her nose.
She never even asked who won the rubber match in chess that night?
Was it Simon? Did he gloat? Or did Henry win while teaching some new defense against Simon's newly found strategy?
As the tears came faster, her shoulders quaked.
She sucked in a deep breath and held it, willing her shoulders to stop shaking.
With her nose swollen, she felt as if she were suffocating.
Her breath released in a sputter, and she dragged in another shuddering breath.
In the stillness, her sounds seemed loud enough to wake the train.
She tried to still her spasming body by giving it something to do.
She flipped the wet pillow over and snuggled her head back into place.
How would she get Simon back without Henry?
Now she knew what he had brought to their work.
He had a confidence that made even the flimsiest motion feel justifiable.
She clenched the pocket watch in her fist. Why did he have to take this case?
He would be here right now. They would be home, sleeping side by side in their bed, dreaming about the future of their son together.
She heard the cadence of faint footsteps in the hall that slowed—deliberately, she’d wager—as they approached their berth. Her breath caught.
Winona’s voice broke the stillness, thin and barely audible. “Mae… I’m so very sorry about yer Henry.”
Mae exhaled slowly and tried to regulate her breathing. Closing her eyes, she hoped Winona wouldn’t continue.
But she did. “He was a good man. So kind.”
A tear slid down Mae's face and dampened the other side of the pillow.
“Jus’ know that if you need to cry, I ain’t judgin’. I know what it’s like. I’m here if you need to talk.”
Mae lay there, hoping Winona was finished. What seemed like minutes ticked by. Mae curled her legs up toward her chest.
“Youse a strong woman for goin’ after yer Simon like ye are. That means somethin’ and Henry would be proud of ye.”
At the mention of Simon, Mae's body stiffened. She sniffled through her nose and wiped away the remaining budding tears. She took a deep breath in and said, “We just need to dot our i’s and cross our t’s. If we are careful, we can still fix this.”
Silence pervaded the space.
Mae was done listening. “Good night, Winona,” Mae murmured, ending the exchange as she adjusted her pillow and closed her eyes.