Chapter Ten Gertrude #2
Dr. Brooks chuckled. “They confirm my greatest wish—that I grow old and fat in a small house by the ocean.”
“And me?” Mrs. DuPont said.
“You have a very bright future,” he insisted. “Wealth beyond your dreams.”
The woman’s tight features relaxed.
The man was charming. A deceiver and a con artist, no doubt, but delightful. For so long, I’d been on guard, weighing all my words and actions.
When Dr. Brooks laid out three stacks of cards face down and asked me to restack the deck, my lightheartedness shattered. The idea that anyone could peer beyond the false life I’d created into my real one was too dangerous. All my protests slid behind a waterfall of reserve.
He slowly turned the first card over. It was a woman standing by water. The next was the Sun again. And the final one was the Moon. “Very interesting, Frau Werner.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Water has always been a part of your life.”
“We’re surrounded by it now,” I said.
“But your connection goes back much further than this voyage. I would say a long, ancient river has flowed through your life.”
“Many live near rivers in Europe.”
“Yes, but few are as influenced by it.”
His comments were just vague enough to mean many things and nothing.
“Ah.”
“You don’t believe me?”
I did. But any true facts of my past were too perilous to toy with. “It’s very entertaining.”
Dr. Brooks laughed. “But I feel your hesitation.”
“She’s a wise woman,” Mr. DuPont said. “Better to take all of this with a grain of salt.”
“Perhaps,” Dr. Brooks said as he scooped up the cards. “And I can see you aren’t convinced.”
“I am not,” Mr. DuPont said.
Unruffled, Dr. Brooks carefully stacked his cards. “I insist we all have dinner again tomorrow night. I’ll convince everyone that this magic is real.”
“I would be delighted,” Mrs. DuPont said. “Perhaps you have other games, Dr. Brooks.”
He bowed slightly. “I have many.”
Her cheeks warmed with a girlish hue. “I have no doubt.”
I shifted in my seat. The baby pressed against my bladder, reminding me of its presence. As much as I reached for a new life, the old one lingered. Suddenly, I was in no mood for games. It was time for me to rise. “If you all will excuse me. I must stand and walk.”
“I remember the last days before my children were born,” Mrs. DuPont said. “I understand.”
Dr. Brooks rose and pushed in his chair. He offered his arm to me, and because it would be rude not to take it, I did. “Let me escort you to the deck. The seas are getting rougher, and you should not be walking around alone.”
“Thank you.”
He ushered me out of the dining room, and soon we were in the windy fresh air on the top deck. The crescent moon dangled in the starry night. The fresh ocean breeze wrapped around me.
“Are you chilly?” he asked.
“The air is bracing and welcome.”
He shrugged off his jacket and laid it on my shoulders. The warmth enveloped me. “And what will you do in New York City?”
The idea lifted my mood again. “I haven’t charted my voyage that far. But the war is very far from New York. And I want to be away from the war.”
“A wise choice.” His voice had a calming effect on me.
“Tell me about New York.”
“It’s full of lights, cars, people, and ships in the harbor. There are theaters and restaurants. The city never really sleeps.”
I couldn’t picture New York, but I was familiar with chaos where one could get lost.
As we strolled, Dr. Brooks chatted easily about the specifications of the Oceanus. “She was built in 1930.”
“And the ship’s namesake was a Titan.”
He looked pleased by my response. “Son of Uranus and Gaia. Heaven and earth. An interesting fellow, as Greek gods go. He married his sister, who gave him numerous sons, or river gods. His daughters were naiads. They oversee ponds, marshes, and lakes.”
I thought about the Danube River’s swirling waters. Had one of these creatures been staring at me as I lingered on the banks? “You have an excellent command of facts.”
“‘A brain full of trivialities,’ as my great-uncle used to say. A casualty of reading so many books.” He slid his hand into his pocket.
“Books are their own form of magic,” I said. “I’ve been a voracious reader since I was a child.”
“I knew I liked you the instant we met. What have you read lately?”
“I’m rereading The Tempest.”
“Is it as old as my volume?”
I’d learned to downplay assets for fear of theft. “No, it’s less than fifty years old.”
“This Shakespeare classic is a bold choice while crossing the Atlantic.” He guided me toward the cabins. “Don’t you worry about a great storm also blowing us off course?”
“All ends well in this story.”
“You’re an optimist, Frau Werner.”
“I have to be.”
As we approached my hallway, he slowed his pace. “I hope to see you again, Frau Werner. This has been a delightful evening.”
“I truly appreciated the distraction. It’s been a while since I enjoyed myself like this.”
“If you find yourself in need of an escort tomorrow, knock on my door. I’m free to walk again and discuss books.”
It had been some time since a man was kind to me. Not to be trusted, but nice. “Thank you for the escort. Good evening.”
He bowed slightly. “Madam.”
When I entered the cabin, I heard the agitated voices of the couple in the room next to mine. The man sounded angry and the woman conciliatory.
The sounds conjured more dark memories from my marriage. I closed the door quietly and crossed to my bunk. Around Alfred, I always tiptoed as if the floor were covered with shattered glass.
I unlaced my shoes and rubbed the stiffness from my swollen feet. As delightful as Dr. Brooks had been, he’d admitted he had connections all over the world. And then there was the lady who had conjured memories of the woman who knew me too well.
I couldn’t risk any of these people being connected to Alfred.