Authors: Leen Elle
Gail, with Charlie's hands upon her shoulders, watched them leave with hesitation. This was it. This was the end. Most likely, after this moment, she would never see Nathaniel West again.
Ever.
Breaking free of Charlie's grasp, she darted forward, pushing her way between the hospital aides. Nathaniel lay there, finally out in the fresh air for once in his life but unable to enjoy it. His face was dotted with several spare raindrops, those that had escaped the umbrellas, and his silvery gray eyes lit up ever so slightly as he spotted Gail.
"Goodbye!" Gail shouted. She bit her lip, brushing the rain from her eyes, "Adieu, Nathaniel!"
He blinked, but didn't speak. It was enough to signify a farewell and Gail was thankful for it, but she wished dearly that he'd had the strength to do more.
As the mob moved away, down the ramp and into a carriage, Gail felt Charlie's hand upon her shoulder once more. One only says adieu as a definitive farewell. And at that moment, Gail felt certain that she would never see Nathaniel again.
"Would anyone like another roll?"
"Pass the carrots, please!"
"My compliments to the chef.
Wonderful pasta, Mary!"
"Take that napkin off your head, Rory! It's not a hat and you're not a child."
"Here's your coffee, Charlie. Does anyone else need something to drink?"
"Oh, I can't wait to get to Brighton. My feet are just yearning for dry land."
"Close that window. It's an icebox in here!"
Gathered at the table for their last meal aboard the ship, the sailors and the St. James sisters were talking, eating, and enjoying the little time they had left together.
Mary, with her black curls pinned back into a bun, sat at one end of the table beside Carl Linwood and Dick Cohen. Unlike some previous moments in the past few weeks, tonight Mary could speak only of Ethan. Throughout the meal, compliments of him sprang to her lips and the sailors around her grew bored of hearing about how "wonderful" and "perfect" her Dr. Ethan Lindsey truly was.
"He's been studying in Brighton for nearly three months now," she said, scooping some green beans onto her plate, "So he should become an official, certified doctor in no at all! Of course, he still needs to determine exactly what kind of doctor he wants to be. A pediatrician or a surgeon or . . . or . . . or what else is there? No matter! He can be whatever kind he likes and I'll still be very proud of him. I've always thought he'd make a fantastic pediatrician though. He works so well with children!"
"Is that so?"
"Oh yes! And we're going to have lots of children.
Four, maybe five.
Ethan's always said that he'd like to start a family very soon and I couldn't agree more! He'll make an excellent father, I'm sure. And hopefully I'll be a nice mother as well. We'll have two little boys, John and Samuel, after his grandfathers, and two little girls, Anna and Catherine, after my grandmothers. Won't that be just darling?"
"Are you planning on it? Because you know, you can't determine the sexes of your own children."
"Of course, of course.
But I just . . . I have this feeling that it's all going to work out that way. And if doesn't, I have replacement names of course. All the names are already settled so that we won't have anything to worry about when the time finally comes!"
Dick yawned, "How responsible of you."
"I like to have everything planned out as quickly as possible so that I have nothing to worry about later. I've already got the wedding plans all figured out, I just need to run them by Ethan and his mother. I'll wear a white gown and a long, lacy veil and my sisters will all be dressed in plum. We'll have the church decorated with lilacs and baby's
breath,
the scent will be just heavenly! And afterwards, we'll gather at his father's house for a celebration! There'll be loads of food- fruits and cheeses and potatoes and roasted turkey. So much food it'll be fit for a Queen! And we'll hire a band to play so that everyone can dance and have a merry old time. Oh, I can't wait! I wish all you boys could be there. If you stop in Brighton again very soon, you simply must check and see if we've held the wedding yet! And if we haven't, you're all invited to come, of course."
"If the situation arises, we'd be glad to come," assured Carl, "I have no doubt it will be a truly joyous occasion."
Dick nodded, "And I'd really like to meet this Lindsey fellow. I've heard so much about him that I feel as if we're already personally acquainted!"
Further down the table, sitting rather
quietly,
was Sara. She stared down into her soup with a placid expression and would look, every so often, over to Charlie, who sat opposite Mary at the head of the table.
Layered over his red plaid shirt, he wore an old navy sweater.
The same navy sweater that Sara had mended several weeks before, sewing a patch over the hole in the sleeve.
Although the sweater didn't match his shirt and it was rather oversized and ugly, Sara found the sight rather endearing. It reminded her of old times, when she and Charlie didn't feel awkward around one another and she'd never received his letter, which now sat folded beneath her pillow.
He, too, was gazing down silently as his plate, pushing around the peas with his fork. His rumpled hair fell down lazily into his eyes, shielding them from Sara's view, and he was in dreadful need of a haircut, she thought.
But she loved him, nonetheless. Despite his gray hair and his tattered clothing, despite his financial situation and his age and the thoughts of her late father, she loved Charlie Wilkie. And she always would.
After receiving that letter from him, all her dreams had been dashed, her hopes disappeared within instants. It seemed impossible that he'd ever change his mind. And now, as their voyage was drawing to a close, she felt as though she might never see him again after tomorrow. The thought brought tears to her eyes.
"Sara? Sara, are you alright?"
Emy's voice made Sara jump. She quickly nodded, giving a frazzled smile, "Of course. I'm just . . . I just . . . My eyes are a little watery, is all.
Nothing to be worried over."
Emy nodded and whispered, "Of course," though she sounded doubtful.
Lowering her head once more, Sara slowly buttered her roll as she felt more tears fill her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but it was to no avail. Beneath her breath, she murmured something about terrible allergies and dried her cheeks with her napkin, but Emy continued to glance at her with worry and she was catching the attention of one or two of the sailors as well. Embarrassed, she kept her head down and wrung her fingers, taking a deep breath. But when she finally raised her head, she instantly wished that she hadn't.
Charlie sat as still as a statue, staring at her, his eyes brimming in both concern and fondness. Although they sat separated by nearly a dozen noisy sailors and several young girls, the
room suddenly seem
to go quiet. Charlie gulped. Sara bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears once more. She wanted to look away and dry her eyes, but she couldn't. She sat paralyzed by his stare.
Charlie blinked twice and tilted his head slightly, as if to ask Sara if she were alright. If he'd tried to say it in words, shouting over the sailors' racket, he would have certainly choked on his tongue so this was his only resort.
Sara wanted to nod, to assure him that she was perfectly fine, but she couldn't. Instead, she quickly dropped her head once more and wiped her tears on her sleeve.
For the rest of the night, they'd avoid each other's gaze. It was simply too much for poor Sara to bear.
Seated near the center of the table, with Sawyer at her side, Nora was speechless as well but for a completely different reason altogether.
Ever since that last discussion with Mary and Emy, where the true intentions of both Ben and Sawyer were finally made apparent to naïve Nora, her entire view on the sailors and love and silly crushes had changed dramatically. She felt like a fool and was disgusted with herself every time she thought of the days she used to spend lusting after Ben.
"Would you like any more tea, Nora?" said Sawyer, pushing his glasses up further on his nose, "I'd be happy to get you some."
"Oh no, I'm fine. And you needn't go to all that trouble."
"It's really no trouble at all," Sawyer assured, climbing over his chair awkwardly, "I was just about to get myself some more tea anyway."
"But your glass is nearly full."
"Er . . . ," Sawyer scratched his head, "Well, you can never have too much tea, can you?"
"You really oughtn't . . ."
"I insist . . ."
"But Sawyer . . ."
"It's no trouble at all.
Really."
Just after he'd left the table, Nora's glass at hand, Mary entered the room laden with a tray of cookies for dessert. She set the dish in the center of the table, warned the sailors not to be too hasty, and backed away just as all the boys dived for the cookies like a pack of wild dogs.
As they calmed down and munched on their treats like happy children, Nora leaned forward to see what was left.
"Any chocolate chip?"
Rory shook his head, "No, only peanut butter and oatmeal.
Sorry, Nora."
"It's alright," she sighed, "They're only cookies."
Just then, she felt a tap upon her shoulder.
And from behind emerged a hand carrying two chocolate chip cookies.
Nora beamed, her eyes lighting up with joy.
Sawyer smiled, "For you, Miss Leonora."
"But how did you get them? You weren't even here!"
"I stopped Mary on her way in," Sawyer explained, "And since I knew that your favorite is chocolate chip and that by the time you reached for one, they'd probably all be sitting in the sailors' stomachs, I thought I'd grab you some beforehand."
Taking the two cookies, Nora pursed her lips together as she watched Sawyer, sitting down beside her. He reached for an oatmeal cookie though Nora knew he preferred chocolate chip as well. As Mary had said, Sawyer would do almost anything for her. The fact had only become more apparent in these last few days, as every favor Sawyer did was etched in Nora's mind. She'd never realized how much she'd miss him until just now. It seemed impossible that she'd ever find a man that cared for her as much as Sawyer did.
"Sawyer?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for the cookies."
He smiled, "You're very welcome."
Nora bit into her cookie, "And Sawyer?"
"Yes?"
"Could we have another checkers tournament tonight?" Her heart dropped, "For the last time?"
"Of course, Nora.
Whatever you wish."
With a sparkle in her eye, Emy watched her sister and Sawyer but she couldn't help forget them as soon as a certain Mr. Lindsey entered her mind.
In less than twenty-four hours, she'd be seeing Brook again.
Brook, who she'd been dreaming of the entire voyage.
Brook, the cause of her many sleepless nights and the owner of her heart.
He'd held it for so long that Emy only hoped that someday, hopefully very soon, she'd hold his heart as well.