Where Trust Lies Page 12

  When Mother discovered Julie’s haircut, she sent the others on to lunch. With all her heart, Beth felt sorry for the woman who had such a difficult burden—a daughter who would blissfully allow herself to be sweet-talked into doing what a casual acquaintance suggested. And then she remembered the pills that she had accepted from the same source. Her heart softened. Julie probably was not thinking clearly either when she trusted her new friends. But Margret’s concerns certainly are proving to be correct.

  And then she was struck once more. What will Father say? He’s always complimented Julie’s long curls—so much like Mother’s hair. The mental image of his disappointment tugged sorrowfully at Beth’s heart.

  Julie and Mother did not appear for lunch. When Beth and Margret returned to their suite, Emma, her eyes wide, informed them that they had made a hurried appointment in the on-board beauty salon in order to “fix” Julie’s hair.

  “Her hair will grow back,” Margret said with a sigh, “but broken trust might take longer to restore.”

  Mother must be greatly dismayed right now. Father too, soon enough. It seemed as if Julie had chosen to move beyond her family, allying herself with her new friends. Beth wished for a long walk through a woods to sort out all the emotions twisting themselves together in her mind. Then she remembered a previous suggestion.

  She hurried back into the hallway and knocked on the neighboring door. “Victoria, may I please accept your gracious offer to borrow your violin? I believe that would be particularly pleasant just now.”

  “Of course,” the girl agreed at once. “I’ll get it from my room.”

  Out in the warm sunshine on her stateroom’s balcony, Beth brought the strings into tune. She deliberately ignored the fact of nearby passengers, though she could not see them. The soulful timbre of the instrument expressed her turbulent thoughts perfectly. The strains of the familiar hymn, It Is Well With My Soul, lifted on the breeze, and Beth wondered if it were truly so with her soul. There was so much beauty in the idea of family, and yet an undercurrent of sorrow or even angst seemed always woven into the word as well. Their closeness had only heightened the impact of each word and deed. Tears formed in Beth’s eyes as she squeezed them shut and willed the world away.

  “Heavenly Father,” she whispered, “help us to love one another adequately, no matter what. They’re each so precious to me, and yet I don’t always demonstrate that well. Why does it seem to grow harder just when we should be the closest? I’ve missed them for so long. It seems as if it should be easy now to be together again.”

  The sweet tunes drifted from one song to another. Soon Beth recalled another favorite hymn, the words flowing through her mind as she played. “Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love; the fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above.” She prayed for grace to live up to such an exalted vision of unity.

  Watching through the large porthole-shaped window for Julie’s return with Mother, Beth went inside as soon as she saw them enter the suite, hoping to convey her improved attitude to Julie somehow, even if she were not able to do so in words. They stood awkwardly for a moment, uncertain what to say to each other.

  The haircut had been improved. It was no longer quite as chopped off—softer now, releasing more of the natural curl around Julie’s face.

  “I wanted it to be like Jan’s,” she said, her face crumpled, after Mother had moved on to her bedroom. “But her hair is straight, so they told me it wouldn’t work for me.” She frowned, but added stubbornly, “I’m going to sleep with a silk stocking on my head. If I go to bed with wet hair, maybe it will be straighter by morning.”

  Beth reached out to tousle one of the curls. “It’s elegant the way it is, dearest Julie. Your pretty face would make any hairstyle look lovely. However, maybe the stocking trick will make you happy. You’ll have to try it and see.”

  “It’s funny,” Julie lamented. “Penny said she loved my curls, but I like how straight Jan’s hair is. She can’t get hers to take a curl at all—not for all the pin curlers she’s tried. Wish we could trade, at least for a while.”

  “You have no reason to covet anyone else’s hair,” Mother chided from her doorway, though her tone had no sting. “One must be grateful for the way God has created each of us. Or one will never be satisfied at all.”

  “There.” Beth smiled at her sister, their eyes fully meeting at last. “Be grateful, darling. I’ve always known you were special, and now I guess we can say that you’re . . . well, even specialer!”

  Julie rolled her eyes in response, but Beth was pleased to see a glimmer of humor there. She reached out for a strong embrace and was grateful to find it returned.

  “Well, look who’s here!”

  Startled, Beth turned toward the sound. Julie and Jannis giggled in immediate recognition. The four young ladies were waiting in line for transport to their sightseeing event.

  Penny spoke for all of them. “Nick, we didn’t know you were taking this shuttle.”

  “Of course.” He grinned confidently. “I wanted to see this fishery—or cannery—whatever it is we’re headed to. But where’s the rest of your clan? Are they too high-hat for this place?”

  Julie motioned for him to cut in line with them for the next tender to Anticosti Island. He did not need to be invited twice.

  “Golly, Jules.” He stared at her hair. “What happened to you?”

  “Jannis did it. Don’t you like it?”

  Reaching to pull one of the curls out straight, he let it spring back into position. “And how!” he answered with a wink. “You look positively scrumptious.”

  “Thanks.” She blushed. “Mother and Mrs. Montclair weren’t at all interested in going today. Too rough for their taste, they said. And Victoria wouldn’t go if she couldn’t get out into the woods. A group of men is going fishing, and Victoria was desperate to travel along and see the wildlife, but her mother put her foot down on that idea.” Penny and Jannis joined Julie in giggling at the thought. “And Margret—well, I think she would have come, but she wasn’t feeling very well this morning.”

  “Say, you’re dressed awful nice for gals who are headed out to see where fish are gutted and filleted. Just look at all of you,” he continued in a flattering tone. “You’re all dolled up as if you’re going to a cotillion instead of a smelly factory.”

  “What did you expect,” Jannis bantered, “overalls and rubber boots?”

  Beth glanced down at her light-blue skirt and white frilled blouse. She hoped he wasn’t right, that they had been foolish in their choice of attire for the day.

  The tender entered the broad harbor and approached the little town of Port-Menier. Beth was not surprised that the more elegant passengers hadn’t bothered with this excursion. But it was reminiscent of Coal Valley—a small industrial town surrounded by the most wonderful scenery. Can the similarities be captured in a painting, with fishing boats instead of the Rockies? Will Julie even bother to finish it if I somehow manage an adequate sketch? Beth climbed out of the tender with the aid of Nick’s hand.

  In long overcoats made of white cotton duck to cover their clothing, Beth found the fish odors in the cannery very strong, but all the clattering machinery was fascinating. She purchased several cans of seafood fresh off the canning line and tucked them away in her bag. Won’t my students be excited to taste lobster?

  “Let’s hit the town,” Nick called out. “Gotta be something here besides fish, even if it’s just a café where we can get ourselves a good cup of joe.”

  Beth hesitated. She wasn’t certain of the tender schedule and didn’t want to miss the last ride back to the ship. And she still was unsure of Nick’s intentions. “When are you planning to head back?” she asked.

  “Oh, I don’t have a plan. Let’s just have some fun—make it up as we go. What say, girls?”

  The others wasted no time falling in line behind Nick. “Drop us off at your best watering hole,” Jannis instructed the driver of the dusty bus. “We wanna s
ee the other sights here.”

  Beth cast a glance at Julie, whose eyes were pleading that she concede. The two made their way back to their seats. Julie is very hard to deny, especially after her recent statement about feeling neglected. Perhaps the driver knows how many more shuttles there are. . . .

  As it turned out, they were not the only passengers who had decided to remain a little longer in town. Beth breathed a sigh of relief when several other couples from the cruise also found their way to the small diner.

  Nick ordered five cups of coffee and a platter of fish and chips to share, struggling with the few French words he knew. The waitress nodded abruptly and hurried away.

  Penny rolled her eyes. “Golly, she’s a little touchy. You’d think they’d be grateful for the tourists, even if we’re not French enough.”

  Julie laughed. “They probably get tired of all the pantomimed orders, as if we couldn’t be bothered to learn a little French. You’d think we’ve never been anywhere.”

  “We haven’t been,” Jannis said with a shrug. “This is the most foreign place I’ve ever seen. Can you imagine that?”

  “How about you, Nick? You traveled much?” Julie wondered.

  “Nah. I went south to New Orleans with friends one summer while I was still in college. I picked up some French there, but it doesn’t look like it works very well here.”

  Beth asked, “Where did you attend school?”

  He seemed genuinely surprised at the question. “Uh, University of Pennsylvania. I studied economics for a couple of years . . . didn’t graduate.”

  “That’s right, he didn’t,” Jannis blurted. “He got kicked out before his senior year, the dumb cluck.”

  “Oh, dear. I’m sorry.” Beth wasn’t sure if she should pursue the topic.

  Julie, however, didn’t waver. “What for, Nick?”

  He sighed. “It wasn’t my fault. A little disagreement between me and another guy that got outta hand. They wouldn’t listen to my explanation—just booted us both. It’s a shame too. I was doing real well. Thought I’d get a job in the stock market or something highbrow like that. Instead, I went right back to driving a jitney for five cents a ride. Some cushy job, huh?” He told the story with a careless tone, but Beth was certain it concealed his true feelings.

  “How come you’re on a cruise then?” Julie pressed further.

  A slow grin spread across his face, and his words were evasive. “I’m working some angles—getting a foot in the door, I guess you can say, till I figure it out better. I’d hate to give away any secrets, if you know what I mean. But there’s no way I’ll be stuck at a dead end forever. Not me.”

  Beth stared wordlessly. What does he mean? Is he trying to find a job on the cruise ship? A young man with an incomplete economics degree? And what of his family? Had they forsaken him? It made no sense to Beth.

  When the plate of food had been consumed and the coffee drained, the waitress dropped the bill on the table. Julie reached for it and fumbled in her purse for some coins.

  Penny pushed away from the table, sighing contentedly. “Thanks, Darb,” she said with a little smirk at Julie, who was laying out the money.

  “You’re welcome.” Julie smiled back sweetly.

  Beth cast a sideways glance at her sister, but Julie merely shrugged. As they rose to leave, Julie explained under her breath, “She calls me that sometimes. I think it’s some kind of compliment, but I don’t really know what it means. Then again, I often don’t know what their words mean. Isn’t it fun?”

  “Hmm. I don’t like the way she said it.”

  “Oh, Bethie. You’re so overprotective! Just like Mother.”

  The words stung. Is that how she sees me? Is that what I am? Beth immediately made up her mind not to reproach Julie as much—to be more open to the new people and new experiences.

  Chapter

  13

  COME ROLLER-SKATING WITH US,” Julie coaxed as Beth began to gather her broad-brimmed hat from its hook beside her bedroom door and her book to read on deck. “I’ve rented four pairs of skates, hoping you’d join us.”

  It took a moment to register. “What did you say? You’re going to skate on board the ship?”

  “Yes! On the rec deck. Won’t that be fun?”

  “But we’ve never roller-skated before. And the ship is already rolling, so to speak.”

  “We’ve been ice-skating, though. That’s close enough. Come on, Bethie. Have an adventure.”

  “Well, I’ll give it a try at least. It does sound fun. But I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it. I don’t even ice-skate very well, you know.”

  “Now, what should you wear?” Julie hurried to find something from Beth’s closet, returning with a thick wool skirt and a light top in hand. “Trust me,” she said, “you want your skirt to be a little longer, and nothing that the wind might catch.” Her explanation did not calm Beth’s fears.

  The deck was already crowded by the time they arrived. All the chairs and tables had been drawn to the center so the track could be as large as possible. Several participants were already skating laps. To Beth it seemed an awfully small space for roller-skating. Yet she was here to spend time with her sister and so would do her best. She seated herself and slipped the base of the skate under her own shoes, adjusted their fit, and buckled the straps tightly.

  “Julie, I’m going to need your help to stand.”

  “I’m here. Grab hold.”

  Using the back of a chair and clutching Julie’s shoulder, Beth lifted herself up and felt the wheels begin to roll beneath her. “Not so fast!”

  Julie’s laughter was her answer.

  Together they glided away from the chairs and moved into the stream of other skaters. Jannis and Penny flew by them with a wave. “Oh, don’t let go, Julie! Let me get used to the feeling.” Soon Beth was comfortable enough to release her sister’s arm and giggle along with the other three girls. Once she felt more sure of her own movements and was able to relax somewhat, Beth found she was enjoying it immensely.

  Julie could spin in slow circles and also skate backward. She and Jannis would grasp hands and spin together, drawing closer and spinning faster until they lost their grip and spun away with a rush of laughter.

  “I need a rest,” Beth admitted at last. She made her way to the nearest table, caught hold of one of its chairs, and let herself down, still puffing.

  Julie whisked past. “Order us sodas,” she called. “Then we’ll sit with you.”

  Beth placed the order, giving Mother’s room number, certain that Julie would be treating her two friends. Then she watched the energetic group doing laps around her. She noticed quickly that Julie fit well among them all with her outgoing nature and modern clothing. In fact, her short hair seemed to have been the last piece of the puzzle.

  Indeed, it was now Beth who was the odd one out. Scanning the area, she realized she was the only one of the young women to still have her hair pinned up. Her hairstyle fit only with the few older ladies who were observing the activity. Some of the other girls had long locks, but their hair was flowing freely down their backs, blowing in the breeze—which seemed in this setting to look alive and vibrant. Beth began to understand and sympathize with Julie’s determination to adapt. She could feel the allure of being so carefree and trendy.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Beth recognized the voice immediately. “Good afternoon, Nick. Please, make yourself comfortable.” She motioned to the empty chair.

  “It’s good to see you joining in the fun today. I was beginning to think you might be a bit of a flat tire.” He winked at Beth.

  Beth stiffened, remembering his hand on Julie’s back. She refused to allow this kind of familiarity from the young man. “I suppose that is what I am sometimes. But I’m not opposed to fun—really.”

  “Have you finished your book yet?”

  “No, I’ve taken a break from it. The scenes became a little too sad for me, too realistic in a way that was . . . well, r
ather appalling.”

  He leaned forward across the table. “How so?”

  “The poverty, for one.”

  “Gimme a ‘for instance.’” He was smiling playfully, still seeming to be teasing her.

  “Very well. There is a section where a woman and two little girls are starving. Redburn discovers them in an alley. But when he tries to call a policeman or beg for food on their behalf, no one will help.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty balled up, all right.” Nick shrugged.

  “But it gets worse.” The memory caused Beth’s brow to furrow. “Redburn returned with a little bread and water which he had stolen. But later he laments that he even bothered . . . he realizes that all he’d done was to prolong their deaths. He even considers that it would be more of a mercy to have just killed them outright.” Beth gripped her hands tightly together at the grim memory.

  “Are you serious? The guy was considering bumping them off?”

  “And then Redburn realizes that if he did kill them, society—the very ones who refused to help as he rushed through the streets begging for food—this same society would spend any amount necessary to prosecute him for that crime, money they hadn’t bothered to spend in order to rescue these poor souls in the first place.”

  “Gosh! I guess there may be some truth in it, but I agree that’s a pretty appalling idea.”

  Beth shook her head and sighed. “I understand the vignette is fictional—but I suppose there’s some amount of reality there. It makes me sick to my stomach just to contemplate it.”

  A shadow crossed Nick’s face. He confessed, “I’ve seen things that are just about as twisted as that—when you know something ain’t right, but you don’t know how to make it work out any more fair.”

  “You have?”

  “Sure, I bet everybody has. Guess all you can do is roll with whatever life gives you, and get yours before somebody else gets there first.”

  “Oh no, Nick.” Beth sat forward and searched his face. “We can do so much better than that. We can right at least some of the wrongs. We can work toward changing things for the poor and cast-out. We have to.”