The Sailor And the Siren Page 6
It was just the thing after preparing a sumptuous meal for their passengers. In less than an hour, they would be back at work preparing a meal for the crew while Sally and Jean did the dishes from the resplendent dining hall above.
But for a few minutes, it was the calm before the storm.
A few minutes of peace that Rosemary was afraid she would have to breach.
“Loretta?”
“Hmm?” There was a slight clatter as she set down the pitcher. “What is it?”
“My mother.”
Loretta’s hands stilled, and a moment later she set her hands down into her lap. “What about her, sweetheart?”
Rosemary had never really searched for meaning in Loretta’s words. She’d just taken each as they came, but after speaking to Dollie Owens and hearing what she had to say, Rosemary’s curiosity was piqued and she wanted to know more.
“You knew my mother, right?”
Giving her an indulgent smile, Loretta nodded, and as she did Rosemary watched the starched collar of her day-gown bend outward a little with each movement. “Of course I did. She was a dear friend of mine, Rosie-girl, but you know that.”
Rosemary swallowed down the odd feeling of suspicion. Sure, Loretta had said that before, but that was about all she had said.
And Rosemary had been glad for even the slightest bit of information so she had never thought to ask for more.
“Why didn’t you tell me that mother worked aboard the Siren?”
There was a moment of hesitation.
It hurt to see it, but there it was.
“I didn’t? Why, I’m sure I must have mentioned it.” Loretta looked her square in the face and then sighed, her shoulders sagging forward. “You don’t believe that anymore than I do.”
Rosemary shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Patting the bench beside her, Loretta’s mouth thinned into a pale line.
Knowing that Loretta would wait until she moved, Rosemary scooted over.
Loretta grabbed at Rosemary’s closest hand and pulled it into her lap until she could surround it with both of hers.
“You know I love you, hmm? Love you like my own?”
As worried as she was, as confused as she was, Rosemary knew that Loretta did love her. There had been too many times over the years when Loretta’s shoulder had been the one she’d cried upon.
And it had been Loretta’s lap that had pillowed her head.
“I know you do. I love you like a mother, but I heard... I heard that my mother lived and worked aboard this boat like I do now. How didn’t I know that?”
“That’s because she didn’t want you to know, sweetness.”
The words felt like cuts upon her hands. “She didn’t want me to know? Why not? She had a home here like I do. Why should that stay a secret?” A sudden rush of sensation soured her stomach. “Dollie said my mother wasn’t white.”
Loretta nodded. “She wasn’t.”
“And why was that a secret?”
Her hold on Rosemary’s hand tightened. “Don’t you understand? She wanted the best for you.”
“And I have the best. I have a home and friends. I have work and make my own money.”
“That’s right,” Loretta’s voice lowered, “and people think you’re white. Don’t you understand?”
Rosemary opened her mouth to speak and closed it again.
“You see it now, don’t you? You know the reason we kept this from you, why you should have left it alone.”
Recoiling a little, Rosemary looked at her with shock. “I didn’t ask to know, Loretta. Dollie knew. She’s the one that told me.”
“And what were you doing speaking to her?”
“She invited me to her room when I was-” Rosemary cast her gaze down toward the floor, “when I was outside on the deck with Mister Brooks and-”
“Ah, so I was right.” Tsking at her, Loretta looked at her. “I thought you had feelings for him. And,” Loretta thoughtfully pointed out, “he has feelings for you.” She held up her hand before Rosemary could speak. “And before you ask how I know, I just do. I may be old compared to you, but I was young once. I had my share of men comin’ courting. I know what it looks like when a man fancy’s you, but that’s the reason your mother wanted you to forget where you came from. The one good thing your father gave you was the color of your skin.”
“I’m not ashamed of who I am, Loretta, I-”
“No one said you had to be ashamed of anything, Rosie! That’s not the point I’m trying to make.”
Rosemary wanted to argue back, but she felt the way that Loretta held her hand as if she was afraid that Rosemary would disappear if she didn’t hold on tight enough.
“You don’t know what it’s like. You haven’t had someone look down on you because of your skin, because of something you can’t do a thing about. Something that doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to the quality of your heart or your soul.
“You walk around here and everyone sees what your mother wanted them to see. You have a chance that the rest of us… that Moses, Edmund, Jean, and I don’t have. Won’t ever have!”
“I don’t mind, Loretta. I don’t need for people to think I’m what I’m not.”
“You will if you want a chance with that man of yours!”
Loretta’s voice had never been as harsh as it was in that moment. Even though Rosemary knew how much Loretta loved her, her words still cut deep beyond her skin and deep down until it struck bone.
“You want a chance for him to fall in love with you? You want him to give you a ring and his last name? That won’t happen if you tell folks that you’re Vera’s daughter. The same Vera who worked herself to the bone trying to make Eula Abraham happy. You tell folks that your mama bowed and scraped before that horrible woman, and you’ll never have what your mama wanted for you.”
“But Andrew knows!”
Her words rocked Loretta back, Rosemary could see the shock and confusion in the woman’s face.
“He heard Dollie as clear as day when she told me.”
“And?” Loretta looked as though she might have a fit at the very thought. “What did he say?”
“He didn’t think anything was wrong.”
Loretta narrowed her eyes, her fingertips curled into Rosemary’s hand, her nails biting into her flesh. “You better pray that’s the truth, girl. I won’t have you ruining everything your mother and I did for you. You can’t squander all these years because you think it’s noble to own up to what you are!”
Rosemary wanted to set her straight. She wanted to tell Loretta that it didn’t matter to Andrew, but she didn’t really know that.
Not for certain.
Because of all the things that Loretta had told her over the years there was still one thing she knew to be true. Men didn’t always say what they meant. Sometimes men said things to get what they wanted.
She just couldn’t believe that Andrew Brooks was one of them.
“Loretta, I was wondering if you could tell me-”
“No, Missy.” She stood up from the bench and dusted off her skirts. “No more talkin’. Not now, anyhow. We’ve got supper to make for the crew.” Loretta turned her back to Rosemary and reached for her apron, pulling it down from its hook.
Rosemary wanted to point out that by the clock they still had almost a half an hour before they normally started preparing the meal, but she knew that Loretta was upset and she didn’t want to press the issue.
There would be time to talk about it later.
But before that, she knew she should think about it a little on her own.
She hadn’t had any time at all to understand what she’d just learned, how everything had been turned upside down by a few words.
Before she took her whole life into murky waters, she had better make sure the river ahead was clear. She owed that much to her mother.
Chapter Six
A few days later, as they were leaving the dock in Harrowton, the Captain hi
mself stepped into the cargo area of the Siren.
Andrew was surprised when he heard the Captain’s booming greeting. The older gentleman wore a bright blue coat that still showed its royal coloring in the shadowy recesses of the boat. There was even enough sunlight that found its way into the room to give his brass buttons a warm glow. “Goodness me, Andrew, I dare say it’s been quite a while since I found myself down here amongst the cargo.”
The older gentleman turned a slow circle and touched his eyes on every inch of the space.
Andrew wasn’t worried. Along with Lonnie and Moses they kept everything swept and clean with enough room around each pile of boxes to move if something needed to be added or removed.
Tucking his folio under his arm, Andrew moved forward to offer his hand to the Captain. “Good to see you, sir.”
The way the captain clasped his hand made Andrew lean into the touch. It wasn’t just a greeting, there was another layer of connection to the other man. He hoped it was respect.
As the captain lowered his hand, he gestured to the room. “Is there a table we might be able to use?”
“Table?” Andrew looked from one side of the space to the other and shook his head. “We don’t have one available.” Looking toward the door he gave a little shrug. “If you’d like I can go and get one. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get one from my room.”
The captain waved off the idea. “Not necessary to put yourself out, Andrew.”
“Excuse me, sir? Captain, sir?”
Both men turned toward Lonnie and noticed the man standing beside Moses with a worried look on his face. Andrew waited to see how the captain handled the interruption.
And he wasn’t disappointed.
“Lonnie, is it?”
“Yes, sir. That’s my name.”
“You have something to say, young man?”
Lonnie looked at Moses and then Andrew before he stepped forward and swept his hat off of his head and held it before his chest. “If you’ve a need for a table, like Mr. Brooks said, we don’t have one down here. For if we did, Captain, sir, I’d be sore tempted to start up a game of cards, but if you’ve a need for a flat surface, sir. Captain, sir,” he repeated it again, “I can help.”
When the captain didn’t say anything, the corner of Lonnie’s mouth curled up and he darted off to the far wall and pulled a canvas from the cabinet.
Moses gave Andrew a smile and went to help Lonnie shake out the canvas cloth.
Andrew turned to look at the captain and saw the older man’s smile broadened. “He’s a good man, sir.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that, Andrew,” the Captain leaned closer until their shoulders were almost touching, “but you’ve done wonders with him.”
“Sir?” He shook his head.
“The first time I met Lonnie, he never managed to quite meet my eyes. It took months for him to come close enough for me to make sure the boy had two eyes and a nose.” They both watched as Andrew’s men set the cloth on top of a shipping crate. “But since you’ve been working for me, you’ve brought the boy out of his shell.”
“Really, sir, I can’t take credit for it.” Andrew set his hands on his waist and smiled. “He’s a good man, he just seems hesitant because he wants to please. And I haven’t done much more than what I was hired to do, sir. I supervise the men and direct the loading and unloading of cargo.”
The captain’s expression said he knew there was more to it, but he let it go and walked over to the crate that Moses and Lonnie had covered in the cloth.
Smoothing his hand over the surface, the captain nodded his satisfaction. “Lonnie, my boy, this is exactly what I was looking for.” Reaching his hand into his coat, the captain withdrew a dark glass bottle. Setting it down on the oiled cloth, he smiled at his gathered crew. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to share this with the men you hired in port, Mister Brooks, but it might not have made the best impression for folks to see us all sharing a drink.”
Andrew’s brow furrowed a bit as he looked at the bottle.
“Oh, don’t you worry.” The captain waved off Andrew’s concern. “It’s ginger beer. A friend of mine brews it in a shack behind his barber shop.” The older man clapped a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “Hardly anything to the brew, Clive doesn’t let it sit long enough to be much more than ginger water with a bit of a bite, just don’t tell him I told you so.”
Andrew couldn’t help but absorb a bit of the captain’s jovial spirit. “Is this a special occasion of some kind?” He didn’t want this to become a usual occurrence, one that the men would expect.
“See?” The captain slapped his hand down against his leg. “I forgot to tell you!”
A quick look at Moses spoke volumes. The captain wasn’t daft, no, if he was anything, he was crazy like a fox. Sharp and wise, but willing to let his less than stoic side out to play and entertain. But make no mistake, Andrew believed that the gentle humor and gregarious personality was much like the fine façade of the Siren herself. Painted and lacquered, shined and polished, there was a deep strength under the frills and crystal chandeliers.
“I was up on the deck,” he cleared his throat, “as I am in each port, and Mister Samuelson lumbered his way aboard.” The captain took a few steps forward stiffening his neck and puffing up his shoulders under his fine coat.
Andrew struggled to keep his expression even.
“He walked right up to me as the last few passengers made their way indoors.” The captain took in a deep, indrawn breath through his nose, flaring his nostrils. “And he pointed his big meaty finger at me. ‘I’ve got a few words for you, Abraham!’ That’s what he did, you know. He didn’t wiggle his finger about, just pointed it straight at my nose. ‘You’ve gone and done it now!’” The captain turned to pass his gaze over the three men. “So I stood there and waited for him to knock me on my backside. Surely the man was irate, for I’ve never seen him in a good humor.”
Lonnie was listening to every word and the tense line of his shoulders said he was absorbed into the story.
“And just when I thought that I was a heartbeat away from meeting my maker,” the captain drew himself up as if he was a military man ready to march into battle, “would you believe that the man stuck his hand out and looked me square in the eye?”
Lonnie’s mouth curved down at the corners. “Eye, sir?”
Even though Lonnie had interrupted the captain, the man in question gave the matter some thought and ended up nodding. “I do see your point, young sir. I’ll amend my story, for I’m sure I’ll tell it several times o’er, before I tire of it myself.” With a wink at Andrew, the captain continued on. “The man stuck his hand out and looked me square in the eyes,” he nodded in approval at Lonnie, “and told me, ‘Cornelius, you old goat, I have to hand it to you.’”
Firmly fixated on the story, Lonnie couldn’t seem to hold back his thoughts. “What did you do then?”
“Well, I shook his hand of course!” The captain mimed the act of shaking the man’s hand and then did a little jig. “That curmudgeon of a man had only shaken my hand once in the past and before he did it, he spit in his palm!” The captain winced and cringed away from the memory. “Spit! In his palm!”
Andrew coughed when his laugh got stuck in his throat, making him pound the heel of his hand on his chest. “Some folks see that as a way to seal a deal.”
“Well,” the captain shook his head as if he was affronted at the very thought, “it’s a horrible way to do it.” He waved a hand as if he was shaking the very memory from his skin. “Never mind about that. I just wanted to tell the three of you how very proud I am that we’re making a name for ourselves thanks to your hard work.” He looked at Andrew and gave a little nod of his head. “I’ve sent a letter to that school you told me about.”
Andrew felt a little stunned at the words. “Sailor’s Rest?”
Captain Abraham nodded with a satisfied grin on his face. “Yes, sir. I told them if they’ve more like you, we mig
ht be needing more people soon.”
The captain leaned to the side and looked at Moses and Lonnie. “Go ahead, boys, open it up. I’d like to speak to Mr. Brooks for a moment.”
To their credit, the men looked at him for his agreement and got it before Lonnie pulled the cork from the bottle.
The captain sighed. “The boy’s got strength, I’ll give him that.”
Andrew nodded, completely comfortable in telling the captain. “He’s got more than strength, captain. Lonnie’s a good man with a will to learn. Between myself and Moses, we’re going to help him to learn to read and write.”
The captain walked along beside him out into the hall. “Then having you here is doing more than just straightening out my cargo situation and making it more profitable by the day. You’re helping the man better himself.”
As they stood together at the railing, the captain leaned his elbow on the polished wood and looked out at the water.
“I think I made one of the best decisions I’ve ever made when I took you on.”
It had been a long time… really, he’d never had an employer who’d ever complimented him the way the captain did. His first crew had taken him captive and made him their unpaid servant. It was only when he was older and he became adept at playing the more popular songs of the day, the captain would allow him to entertain.
And his guests, they would toss coins to him, but they wouldn’t say much. Not that their words would have been intelligible given the amount of rum and ale the men usually consumed.
And at the school, they had been his teachers and then his friends. So this, the words of appreciation… the way the captain was acknowledging his contributions, made him feel proud of his efforts.
“I was… I am grateful that you took a chance on me, sir.”
“It was well worth it.” Turning to face the water, the captain leaned both of his forearms on the railing. His bright blue coat made the river look even more grey than usual in comparison. “I think,” he nodded thoughtfully, “if you keep working as hard as you do, it won’t be long before you’ll have a chance to make more money, take on more responsibility. When I hired you,” he explained, “the cargo part of our business wasn’t profitable. I still don’t understand what Chillingsworth was doing down here. When I came down to look I could barely find my own nose, let alone a specific crate or box. Loading and unloading were infernal wastes of time and only angered our customers.