Residuum

by ID Johnson

  “I’m aware, Miss Westmoreland, and I apologize. Perhaps more discretion on your part next time won’t lead me to have to make such grand entrances.”

  “Jonathan,” Charlie said, shaking his head, “just because you promised my mother you’d serve as chaperone doesn’t mean you have to be so overly… present.”

  “Of course it does,” Jonathan disagreed. “I’ve made her a promise, and I intend to keep it. Otherwise, my reputation might suffer.”

  “That’s all right,” Meg shrugged. “In my experience, reputations come and go at the drop of a dime.” She winked at him, hoping he’d catch her drift. She was certain all the high society papers in Southampton had her painted as quite the hussy.

  He laughed. “I can’t just change my identity and go off to another country.”

  “Of course you can,” Meg replied, turning to face Charlie who was now standing behind her. “It’s easy enough if you’ve a mind to.” She smiled at her fiancé, realizing that Jonathan was about to sweep her away. “Remember what I said.” She held his gaze, and he nodded, letting her know he understood she meant he truly could call her if need be. She hoped that he would.

  “Jonathan, avert your eyes,” Charlie teased, and then he stepped forward to softly kiss her lips. “Have a good night, Meg. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She smiled at him and turned to see Jonathan’s eyebrows raised, realizing he hadn’t averted his eyes at all. And she didn’t care. “Good night.”

  “Miss Westmoreland?” Jonathan offered his arm.

  Meg stepped forward and slipped her arm under his before giving Charlie one more smile.

  “Jonathan, we’ve a few things to discuss when you get back,” Charlie called after him.

  “Yes, we do,” Meg’s escort agreed, and she felt her stomach tighten, wondering if they were simply talking about the factory or if there was more.

  She waited until they were away from the dining room and they were nearing the back door that led to the path to her apartment before she asked, “Does whatever you have to discuss have anything to do with me?”

  Jonathan looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Why would you ask that?” They stepped outside into the cool spring air, and Meg shuddered, not sure if it was the shift in temperature or Jonathan’s lack of a quick declination that made her do so.

  “It’s been a few days since we discussed meeting with the lawyers, and I’m of the inclination to think that I wouldn’t be privy to much of that conversation until I absolutely had to be,” she replied as they made their way around the small pond that sat between the two houses. The moon was up and a sky full of stars twinkled above them, but Meg paid little attention to the night sky these days; she’d spent enough time studying it while aboard the lifeboat there was no reason to pay it any mind now.

  “It does have to do with the lawyers,” Jonathan admitted. “They want to meet with Charlie tomorrow to talk about your options.”

  “And why do they not want to meet with me if they are my options?” she asked as they neared the stairs that led to her apartment.

  “I suppose that is a valid question,” Jonathan admitted. “But they said they wanted to meet with him first, get a sense for exactly what has transpired, what your preferences are, and then meet with the pair of you.”

  “Is the meeting here?” she asked, nodding at Charlie’s house.

  “Yes.”

  “When you go back to speak with Charlie, will you inform him that I’d like to come?”

  “I will.”

  “Good.”

  “What if he says he’d rather you weren’t there?” Jonathan asked with an eyebrow raised.

  Meg chuckled. “Do you think that’s a possibility?”

  Jonathan opened the door for her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Meg,” he said as she went inside and closed the door behind her. He knew Charlie wouldn’t deny her access to such a discussion if she wanted to be a part of it. Meg never imagined she might marry a man who would see her as a partner, but it was quite clear that was the vision Charlie had for their future, and she felt very blessed to have escaped her own reckless behavior. Charlie might be doubting there was a God, but Meg was quite certain there had to be divine intervention at work; it was the only way she could explain how she’d gone from a foolish little girl making damaging and dangerous decisions to the fiancée of one of the most amazing men who’d ever lived over the course of a few weeks.

  Meg was reposing on the sofa, in and out of sleep, letting the worries of the day wash over her, sometimes more than one at a time, when an alarming buzzing noise jarred her fully awake. She jerked upright, thankful that she wasn’t on the bottom bunk of the Third Class passenger accommodations any longer or else she would’ve surely knocked herself unconscious on the bunk above her.

  She looked around the living room and realized the irritating noise was coming from the telephone. A glance at the grandfather clock across the room told her it was past two in the morning. She assumed that meant it must be Charlie calling, and she gathered her wits and crossed to pick up the receiver as Jonathan had demonstrated for her, hoping she reached the device in time.

  Clearing her voice, she spoke into the piece protruding from the wall. “Yes?” she asked. An operator, she assumed, said something that sounded like, “One moment please,” and then she heard Charlie’s familiar voice on the other end of the cord. It was quite remarkable.

  “Meg, I’m sorry to wake you,” he said, his voice hoarse and so quiet it was hard for her to make out his words. “You said to call. Perhaps you didn’t mean it, but, I have done so, nevertheless.”

  She knew her face must be flush. Even the sound of his voice over the wire made her lightheaded. “I’m glad you did. How are you?”

  He said nothing for a moment, which made her scrutinize the telephone, thinking perhaps somehow she’d managed to disconnect the call. At last, he said, “I couldn’t sleep. I thought… perhaps, you might want to meet me outside. By the pond. There’s a little bench there. We’d be out in the open, should anyone question our motivations.”

  Meg wondered if anyone else was even awake, but she assumed there was little chance of Charlie getting out of the house without Jonathan knowing about it. Not that she cared. Her discretion was more for his mother’s benefit than anything else. “Yes, of course,” she replied without hesitation. “I know that bench well. I pass by there at least twice a day.” He knew that, obviously. She was chattering on for no reason.

  “Very good. I’ll meet you there in five, ten minutes then?”

  “Five minutes?” she repeated. “I’m not sure I can dress in that amount of time.”

  “That’s all right. Just put on your coat. I promise to be respectable.”

  She giggled. “All right then.” She replied before she even allowed herself to process what she was agreeing to. Meeting her fiancé in the back garden in the middle of the night wearing only her dressing gown and a coat? How scandalous! Unfortunately, it wasn’t the most outrageous behavior she’d participated in lately, but she pushed those thoughts aside.

  “I’ll see you shortly, Meg,” he said, and she said goodbye before she attempted to hang the earpiece back on the wall. Her first try was not successful, as it clattered loudly off the hook, banging into the wall. She fumbled with it again, and this time, managed to make it stick.

  “Miss Meg, is everything quite all right?” Carrie was standing in the doorway between the living room and dining room, wearing a robe, her hair in a nightcap, poking out every which way. Clearly, she had been in a deep sleep.

  “Everything is just fine, Carrie,” Meg assured her, scurrying around to find her warmest slippers. “I’m going out for a bit, but I’ll be back shortly.”

  “Out?” Carrie repeated, obviously awake now. “How’s that now, miss? Outside? In your nightdress?”

  “Yes, but I’m only going just there,” Meg said, pointing to the little pond. “If you feel compelled to do so, you may spy on me from the
window.”

  “No, of course not, miss,” Carrie said, though even in the dim light, Meg could see that she was contemplating her options. “It’s a bit chilly out.”

  “I know,” Meg nodded. Even though it was almost May, the nights were still cool. She grabbed her new black coat Carrie had picked out for her at the shop and slipped it on, Carrie smoothing the back and pulling out the collar. “I don’t think I’ll be long.”

  “Is Mr. Ashton meeting you, then?” Carrie asked.

  “I hope so,” Meg replied, “or else he’ll have quite a bit of explaining to do in the morning.” She stepped past her new friend toward the door.

  Carrie yawned. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” she asked as Meg placed her hand on the doorknob.

  She wished she had an answer. “We both find it quite difficult, dear,” she replied. “It’s not something I can readily describe.”

  Carrie nodded, indicating there was no need to try. “Well, miss, if I may be so bold, make him work for it.”

  “What’s that?” Meg asked, tugging the door open.

  A sly grin slid across Carrie’s face. “He isn’t your husband yet. I know he will be soon, but don’t give him too much for free, or he’ll think he doesn’t have to pay for it later.”

  Meg’s eyebrows arched. She wasn’t quite sure what Carrie was saying, but she thought she understood enough. “We will just be talking, I assure you.”

  “Umm hmm.” Carrie winked at her, and Meg shook her head and stepped out onto the stairs that led to the ground wondering if Carrie was speaking from experience and deciding she probably was. No one was what they seemed.

  She had made it about halfway around the pond when she saw Charlie step out from the shadows near the back door. As soon as he was close enough for her to actually see him clearly, she noticed he was dressed and she immediately wanted to smack him. Why hadn’t he given her a chance to put on a gown?

  As soon as she saw his smile, all was forgiven. “You look lovely, as usual, Meg,” he said, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his long dark coat.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’d likely be lovelier in clothing, however.”

  “I’ll assume you’re not implying I think you are loveliest with no clothing on?” He was teasing, and she was glad it was dark since she was certain her face was bright red. “Have a seat won’t you?”

  She was glad he hadn’t given her the opportunity to respond. Thoughts of being undressed in front of a man flitted across her stream of consciousness, but they were soon captured and returned to the box. She sat down next to him, being sure to leave ample space between them since she was certain Carrie was watching if Jonathan wasn’t. Though he likely was, too.

  “Did you sleep any at all?” she asked. Her coat was buttoned and she felt warm enough, but she took a cue from him and kept her hands in her pockets for safety’s sake.

  “Not much,” he admitted. There was a slight breeze that stirred up his soft brown hair, and she wanted to run her hand through it. She dug her nails into her legs through the layers. “Perhaps for an hour or so.”

  She cleared her throat, not sure what to say, but then she realized she was safe to say whatever she liked with him, so she asked, “Was it the screams again?”

  “Yes,” he said readily, holding out the sound of the “s” a bit longer than necessary.

  “Can you hear them now?”

  He nodded, once.

  “Are there times when they are louder than others?” She thought perhaps talking about it might help, but if he indicated he’d like to change the subject, she was willing to comply.

  “When I am alone. When it’s quiet.”

  Even though she knew it wasn’t wise, she drew her hand out of her pocket and pressed it against his arm. “I’m so sorry, Charlie.”

  “Don’t be,” he replied quickly, turning to face her. “I don’t want you to be sorry for me. I just… didn’t want to be alone.”

  “I know. I wish you didn’t have to be.”

  They were quiet for a long time, and she started to withdraw her hand, but before she could take it away, he reached across and caught it in his, pulling her closer so that her hand was resting on his thigh, encircled in his. “Did I wake you?” He wasn’t looking at her now; his eyes were fixed on something by the house, perhaps nothing by the house.

  “I’m honestly not certain,” she admitted. “I was in and out of sleep.”

  “Thoughts of Titanic?” He turned to face her now, and he was sitting more closely than she thought prudent.

  “Sometimes,” she shrugged. “Most of my ghosts reside elsewhere.”

  He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I’m sorry, Meg.”

  “I don’t need your sympathy either,” she reminded him, though her tone was just as innocent as his had been.

  “I suppose not,” he admitted, turning back to face her. “But you have it just the same.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Had he been the one who had lived through such a tumultuous past, she assumed she’d feel similar. She’d want to take it all away and make it better, though obviously that wasn’t possible.

  “Can I ask you something? Something personal?” he asked, his green eyes seeming to peer right through her.

  “You can ask me anything.” Her voice was a whisper fluttering on the wind.

  His lips didn’t move for a long while, as if he still wasn’t sure whether or not he should ask. Eventually, he said, “When I kiss you, when I touch you… is it… difficult?”

  Her answer came quickly. “Not at all,” she replied, and she could see surprise in his eyes at first but then acceptance that she was being honest. She broke the trance and looked away. “I thought at first it would be. That is… for all of those years, I thought I would never be able to be intimate with anyone. But then, as you know, there was Ezra. And that was not at all what I was expecting either. But it wasn’t the same as… before.” The box was attempting to open, and she needed to find a way to slam it shut and still assure him that she was not uneasy about his caresses. She turned to look at him. “Charlie, when you hold my hand, when you kiss me, it comes from a place of love. That’s something I’ve never experienced before. I don’t know what it might be like later—when we are married. But for now, I can tell you not to be concerned about that.”

  “Good,” he said, and she realized he was much closer than he had been, much closer than she expected. “If it ever becomes a problem, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of course.” It was barely audible, but his lips were on hers, and she felt a longing in his kiss that echoed through her every fiber. He ran his hand through her hair as her lips parted, and breathing escaped her. She needed to feel his strong arms around her, feel his hands on her body reminding her that they were still alive, that they were still together.

  Charlie pulled back, not just from her kiss, but his entire body shifted, and he suddenly slid nearly a foot away from her on the bench, leaving her staring after him, one hand still in the air, her eyes half closed. “My apologies,” he said. “I shouldn’t have…. That’s not why I asked you here.”

  Meg put her hand down and adjusted her coat. Of course, she knew that, and Carrie’s words rang in her mind. “I know it’s not,” she agreed.

  “It’s only… I discovered this evening at dinner—when I’m kissing you, I don’t notice the noise so much.”

  She turned to look at him, certain her eyes were double their normal size. “Is that so?”

  “I suppose it’s because I’m so lost in you, I don’t hear them as prominently.”

  Spinning around so that her knees were nearly pointed at him, Meg said, “Well, then I guess Jonathan and your mother, and whoever else has an opinion, will simply have to put their thoughts aside.”

  Charlie tilted his head so that he was almost looking up at her, despite the fact that he was over a foot taller than her. “What’s that now?”

  “If kissing
me makes the voices stop, then you will have to kiss me much more frequently.”

  A grin spread across his handsome face. “While I’m all for it, I don’t think I can kiss you all day and all night.”

  “No, I suppose you won’t get much work done that way, but I’m willing to sacrifice as much of my day as necessary to help you with the situation.” She let out a loud, fake sigh. “If I must.”

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Charlie said, “Meg, you are something else.”

  “I love you, Charlie,” she reminded him. “It took me way too long to realize that, but now that I do, it’s not an idea I’ll be letting go of anytime soon.”

  He scooted back over so that he was next to her and fished her hands out of her pockets. “I love you, too, Meg. With all of my heart.”

  “Good. Then, it’s settled. We shall make kissing sessions part of your health regimen.”

  “Very well. But I will need to explain this to Jonathan tomorrow. Otherwise, he’s liable to fall out of the second story window trying to prevent me from taking part in a therapy session.”

  Meg looked up to where his eyes now fell and saw a shadow looming in the window. “Does he sleep in that hat?” she asked.

  Charlie broke into a resounding laugh that echoed through the garden. “I don’t know, but quite possibly.”

  “All right. I’ll give you until tomorrow to explain, but it doesn’t matter what Mr. Lane says. If it helps, it must be done.”

  He was still laughing as he turned to face her. “I concur.”

  She was tempted to lean in and kiss him again, partially just to see if Jonathan would open the window and shout at them, but she could see Charlie was fighting it and decided to honor his wishes.

  “Would you like to go pay Kelly a visit tomorrow?” he asked, changing the subject before she could try to persuade him further to ignore the liegeman.

  “I’d love to,” Meg said, smiling. She hadn’t seen Kelly at all since Carpathia. While it hadn’t been all that long, it seemed like an eternity.