The Sky Beneath Her(81)
Mrs. DuPont took my hands in hers and rubbed them until they warmed. “See how lucky we are?”
“Lucky?”
“We’re alive, my dear,” Mrs. DuPont said. “And we have hope. The rest we’ll tackle one step at a time. How is the baby?”
“My belly is calm for now.”
“Good.”
Another lifeboat slapped against the water. More people shrieked. Black smoke billowed from the guns’ barrels as they fired more shells at a spot on the horizon.
“Gertrude!”
A breeze carried my name, and when I looked up, Sigrid was in the third lifeboat. Sitting up tall, she scanned the boats, searching for me. Rising and falling waves gave us some cover, but still I ducked and turned my face away from her.
“Gertrude!” Sigrid’s voice skimmed over the rolling waves.
A chill skidded over my nerves. I thought about her alliance with William and then pictured her huddled close to Dr. Brooks on the deck.
“Why is that woman calling out to you?” Mrs. DuPont asked. “She appears worried.”
“She’s not my friend,” I said. “She remembers me from Vienna.”
Mrs. DuPont absorbed my stricken features and then looked again toward Sigrid’s imposing frame. “She’ll have to go through me first.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tula
Tuesday, June 16, 2026, 12:00 noon
I arrived in the small island town of Manteo and followed directions to Mr. Green’s, a ranch-style house located on a wooded lot at the eastern edge of Roanoke Island. I parked behind an older van and grabbed my backpack. A blue hydrangea blossomed, and neat gardens were filled with azaleas that had lost their spring blooms. A dog barked in the backyard, enclosed with a white picket fence. I climbed three brick steps and rang the bell.
I listened for the sounds of footsteps. When I heard nothing, I rang the bell again, when a door inside the house closed. The front door opened to a man with a thick shock of white hair and a deeply tanned face.
He studied me closely as if the past now stood on his doorstep. “Tula?”
“Yes. Mr. Green.”
He pushed open the door. “Yes. Please come inside.”
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“Of course. I’m so glad Doug reached out.”
Inside, sunlight streamed in from a large sliding glass door, brightening a small space with a large stone fireplace, a well-worn couch, and a dining table covered in books.
“I made coffee,” he said.
“That would be amazing.”
He vanished into a galley kitchen. Mugs clinked. The walls were covered with dozens of framed pictures of Manteo, views of the sound and the ocean. Some images were black and white and captured the area before the recent explosion of vacation homes and businesses. There were also dozens of local and regional awards on shelves and coffee tables.
Mr. Green appeared with a tray, awkwardly sporting two mugs, a bowl of sugar, and a small pitcher of cream. He set the tray on the large table in a small spot not covered with books or papers. “I wanted to clean up, but there’s no place to put anything. As you can see, I’ve saved everything.”
“No problem.” When he motioned toward a chair, I took a seat.
I sat and accepted a cup of coffee. I poured in cream. As I looked at him, I realized I’d seen him the day I’d seen Dr. Brooks walking away. “You met Mom for coffee at the mall café?”
“I did. I think you were shopping.” He settled slowly, as if his bones ached. He took the second cup.
I fingered the sea glass and coin. “I thought it was odd she’d given me money to shop.”
“I really liked your mother. She was a free spirit. Made me long for the days when I traveled.”
“How did you meet Mom?”
“Well, you know she was born in Norfolk, and she came down here often to dive and surf.”
“She never talked much about living in the States. We never visited until seven years ago.” I shook my head. “She was always so open and friendly with customers on our dive boats. She told stories of all our dive spots and the wrecks, but never here. I’m not even sure why she decided to dive the Oceanus.”
“It was personal. Like I said, your great-grandmother, Margaret, was on the Oceanus.”
I sat back, ready to ask the question that had been chewing on me. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“I don’t know. She avoided talk of her parents. I just knew enough local history to know she was connected to the Oceanus. After your great-grandmother survived the wreck, she settled in Norfolk in 1942. She took a job with a bookshop.”
“There’s no mention of a Margaret on the ship’s manifest.”
“Your mother didn’t have many details about Margaret. She died of cancer in 1978.”
“We know she was pregnant on the Oceanus, or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Her married name was Riggs.”
“There was a Chief Mate Riggs on the Oceanus.”
“Kevin Riggs. He worked as a merchant marine for nearly fifty years. A great guy. He missed the hell out of Margaret after she died. They never had children of their own, but he adored her son.”