The Sky Beneath Her(99)

“She must have visited my great-uncle several times.”

“Must have.”

He drew in a breath and turned toward the front door. “I’ll leave you both now. I just wanted to give you the check and picture, see the house one last time, and offer my thanks again. Are you coming back to the firm in September?”

“I’ve drafted an email. I’m sending it to Nan in the morning, right after I call her. I won’t be coming back.”

His smile showed no hint of surprise. “I thought as much. Something about the ocean that’s hard to resist. I can never stay away too long.”

“I might have argued that point a few months ago, but you’re right. I’ll always be close to it.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Good luck to you both.”

He left, and I watched him slide behind the wheel of a dark Mercedes. “He reminds me so much of the Dr. Brooks in the manuscript.”

“Me too. I guess genetics are sometimes powerful.”

I’d started to replace the picture in the envelope when I felt something else inside. I reached in and pulled out a coin.

“That looks like the coin your mom and you wore.”

I turned the coin over and over in my hand. “It has the same nicks and rough edges.” The last time I’d seen my coin, it was floating toward ocean silt next to the wreck. There was no way it could be the same one.

“Why would he give that to you?”

“I don’t know.” I smoothed my finger over familiar ridges. “I wonder where he got this one.”

“You left yours behind at the Oceanus, right?”

“I did.”

“How many coins are there like that in the world?”

“There can’t be many.”

“Are you going to keep it?”

I’d given mine back to the ocean. And now here it was again. “Yes, I suppose.”

He took my hand. “Come with me to Florida. We don’t have to make it formal. We can keep it casual, but I hate the idea of leaving you.”

The coin felt warm in my hand. “If I ever get to be an anchor . . .”

“You won’t.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

I kissed him back, falling into scents of sea and sun. I didn’t know what life with Nathan would bring, but I wanted to find out. For the first time in a long time, I was home.





Epilogue


Gertrude





Friday, May 1, 1942


The lost pages


I dressed carefully in a skirt and blouse that one of the ladies in the Norfolk hospital had donated to me. I still had my oilcloth sack containing Sigrid’s papers, the book from Chief Mate Riggs, my gems, and the coin. And of course, my son was with me now. The baby was perfect, and though he’d been made in a shattering moment of violence, he was all mine. Somehow the two of us would find our way in this country.

A knock on the door, and I looked up to see Dr. Brooks. He looked as he always did, unruffled and perfectly at ease. “Gertrude, it’s good to see you up.”

I held my breath. I hadn’t seen him since I’d been transferred to the hospital. “Dr. Brooks.”

“I won’t stay long. Just wanted to see how you’re faring. How’s the baby?”

“Very well.”

“What did you name him?”

“Eric. After my uncle.”

“Excellent name. I’m certain you two will be just fine. You’re a survivor.”

I’d never seen myself as strong, but that would have to change.

“Did Sigrid return to Austria? It’s very dangerous there now.”

“All I can say is that she’s traveling.” He met my gaze. “She’ll be fine. She’s also a survivor.”

“And William?”

“There was an accident on the ship as he was fleeing. He fell and broke his neck. Unfortunately, he died.”

I pictured him bleeding out. Had that loss of blood caused him to fall?

As if reading my thoughts, Dr. Brooks said, “He got into a fight with another man at one of the lifeboats. He stumbled back. Tragically, he landed very hard.”

“Did you see him die?”

“I did.” He moved to a stack of cards on the table. Many of the sailors of the USS Roper, which had rescued us, had sent notes. There were also flowers from the DuPonts. “He’s in the past now.”

It all sounded good. But questions lingered. “I saw you and Sigrid on the deck of the Oceanus.”

“I suppose you did. But that doesn’t matter now. As I said, she’s traveling across the Atlantic.” He faced me. “I also received word that Alfred Gruber was killed four days ago. A boating accident on the Danube River. Took days to recover his body.”

Fear and relief collided. Could Alfred really be dead? “How do you know that?”

He looked amused. “I still have many contacts. I put out feelers and heard about the tragedy.”

“I never mentioned his name.”

“Sigrid did.”

My knees became so weak I sat on the edge of my bed. “You’re certain of all this?”

“Very.”

I suspected if I pressed for more details, he’d be polite and charming and, in the end, tell me nothing. “Thank you.”