The Sky Beneath Her(68)

An hour passed, and I heard them leave the room. All our lives now rotated around the meals. More passengers left their rooms and walked toward the dining room.

When the hallway grew very silent, I rose and finished dressing. I left my room and hurried to the toilet. When my bladder was empty, I rearranged my clothes and washed my hands.

As I stepped into the hallway, Dr. Brooks was walking away from his room toward mine. He had a pipe in his mouth and was trying to ignite his lighter. When he couldn’t turn spark into flame, he cursed.

He looked at me sheepishly. “I’ve never had much luck with fire.”

I took the lighter and shook it as I’d done countless times for my uncle so he could light his pipe. I rolled my thumb over the flint. It sparked, and a flame danced to life.

“Ah, you’re a miracle worker,” Dr. Brooks said.

“Men strike too hard. It takes a softer touch to tease the flame to life.”

Dr. Brooks accepted the lighter back. However, he closed the lid, extinguishing the flame.

I shifted my stance, the weight of the baby feeling heavy against my bladder.

“Are you feeling all right?” Dr. Brooks asked.

I walked toward the stairs, mindful that Sigrid might be listening. “Uncomfortable. But I’ll be fine.” When concern deepened the lines on his face, I shifted the topic. “What trick or game will you bring to dinner tonight?”

“I was thinking about a spirit board.”

“What is that?”

“According to legend, it’s a way to contact the other world.”

Alfred would have been appalled by such talk. “That sounds very dangerous.”

“Depends. Are you afraid of the dead?”

“The living concern me more.”

He chuckled. “Very wise. I’m not afraid of meeting anyone who has crossed over. After all, what can they do?”

“Then why contact them?”

“There are many in the living world who are very curious and believe all the answers in this world can be answered in the next.”

“The dead have seen more than the living.”

“True.” And then, a roguish grin. “Amazing what you can learn. People tend to talk about intimate issues that they never would otherwise, over a spirit board or a deck of cards.”

I smoothed my hand over my tight belly, willing it to loosen. “What’s the most scandalous thing you’ve learned?”

He smiled. “A woman told me her husband was worried about the ghost of a man he’d murdered.”

“Oh, my. What happened to him?”

“I heard later that he was arrested.”

“Ah.”

“Join me for breakfast, and I’ll share more stories from the cards and board.”

“That’s very kind.” I slowly climbed the stairs.

“I’m being selfish.” He gripped my elbow. “I’m now terrified that your baby is going to fall out and hit the floor if you do not sit down.”

Even as my lower back ached, I said, “The baby is staying in place.”

His hold tightened. Maybe it was the pipe or his gentle voice, but he reminded me of my uncle. I didn’t pull away, realizing I needed human contact. I spent so much time in my own thoughts.

He carefully guided me to the dining room and toward a table by the window. He pulled out my chair, and before I realized it, I was sipping coffee, with toast and eggs on the way.

“Are you always this charming?” I asked. “You’re good at getting your way.”

He pulled a deck of cards from his pocket. “I am very good at that.”

After we had eaten and our dishes were cleared away, Dr. Brooks carefully shuffled the cards and then set them in front of me. “Cut the cards.”

I halved the deck and then rebuilt it. “This is a different deck.”

“I purchased this deck in Port of Spain from a woman who claims to be a witch and a seer.”

I watched as he laid three cards face down. His answers were always smooth and at the ready. “Is this game supposed to be fun, or are you looking for more secrets?”

“You’re nervous.”

My mother’s warning about the river gods surfaced. Be careful what you wish for. “I am perfectly calm.”

“I suspect you’re nothing but. You’re a woman willing to take dangerous chances.”

“I don’t look very dangerous.”

“Which is why you are.” His smile softened the charge.

He flipped over very ornate cards, all featuring aquatic scenes—waves, open water, lakes, and rivers. The first was a large wave crashing on a man. The second was a river splashing over jagged rocks. The third was a sun rising over the ocean.

“You’ve been through a great deal,” he said.

“You could say that about anyone on this ship. In Europe. The world.”

“Very true.” He tapped the River card. “You’ve known heartbreak.”

“Again, like everyone else on this ship.”

“But your past nearly broke you in two. And you fear its return.”

I stilled. I was careful that I didn’t show any of my feelings to him.

“I’m not your enemy, Frau Werner.”

Frau. I wouldn’t use the very German-sounding form of address when I arrived in the United States. I threaded my fingers. “I didn’t say you were.”