A Family for the Titanic Survivor

by Lauri Robinson

  Roy folded his arms. “Of course they did. They had to. The accident itself caused an uproar. The line can’t have the general public getting out of hand.”

  “They’re lying,” Karl said. “Not only in statements to the press, but in the senate inquiry. I’ve been there. The White Star’s chairman and others from the company stated that there were no bodies in the water when the Carpathia arrived at the scene, but I’ve heard differently. At the inquiry, and personally. That isn’t going to bode well for them. To be caught in lies.”

  “Perhaps it’s the others who are lying, wanting it to sound worse than it was,” Roy said stoically.

  Karl clenched his back teeth. He’d been born into a society that looked from the top down, and this was the first time he’d looked at things differently. He wasn’t even exactly sure why. It hadn’t started out that way, but he couldn’t help but think about Bridget and what would have happened to her if she hadn’t been watching Elsie that night. “It was a catastrophe of major proportions.”

  “Yes, but there could have been no survivors.”

  That was true, and that was his fear. That Bridget would have perished. She hadn’t, and she’d saved Elsie. For that he was grateful. “It’s my understanding that representatives from the White Star Line are contacting survivors, asking them to sign off from any liability for twenty-five dollars.”

  Roy nodded. “Which is more money than many of those people would have had in their pockets when they arrived in New York had the ship not sunk.”

  “So it is just a specific class they are targeting,” Karl said.

  “Have you been contacted?” Roy asked.

  “No.”

  Leaning forward, Roy frowned. “You seem to be overly concerned about those beneath you, Karl. That’s not like you. I understand you’ve lost your brother and his wife, and assumed that was the issue concerning you.”

  “I am concerned about them,” Karl replied. “About Elsie’s parents having a final resting place that she can visit when she’s older. However, I wouldn’t consider my concern about others on the ship as too much. I would hope the White Star Line would be concerned about all passengers, not just a select group.”

  “The Titanic was also hauling cargo, and the ship itself was a total loss,” Roy said. “Other than thirteen lifeboats and a few hundred life vests, there’s nothing left of a seven-million-dollar investment. An investment you supported. The financial loss of that ship includes you. Do you think the line should go completely bankrupt over this?”

  “Every investment I make is a risk. I weigh them and take the risk. At times it works, at times it doesn’t,” Karl said. “I and my clients understand that. With that said, in a situation like this, everyone should be compensated for their loss, equally. There are widows with children who no longer have a husband and father to provide for them.”

  Roy shrugged. “Like you, and me, they took a risk. It didn’t pay off.”

  Karl hadn’t expected such utter disdain, and wondered if he should have. Men like Whitney hadn’t made their money by being compassionate. Karl also wondered what type of man that made him. What type of man he’d always been, and if he continued to want to be that man.

  “I’ve heard the Red Cross has raised a significant amount of money for the survivors,” Roy said. “They’ll help them.”

  Karl knew that. His company had made a donation to the Red Cross and this morning at church, with Elsie sitting between him and Bridget, he’d put extra in the collection plate for all the church was doing to help the survivors. He nodded and stood. “Thank you for the visit, Roy. It’s been enlightening.”

  “Karl, you’re young, passionate—those are good qualities. Just don’t let them get away from you. What your father built, what you’ve continued to build, takes a man who can see beyond today. Like you said, there is risk in everything. We aren’t always going to like every outcome. That’s why we look at tomorrow, next year, five years from now.”

  Karl nodded, understanding the philosophy of Roy’s words. In fact, what Roy had said sounded a lot like what his father would likely have said. He held out his hand, shook Roy’s. “Thank you again for seeing me.”

  He left, and though he’d received answers, nothing was settled inside him. It felt as if he was on some sort of bridge, stuck in the middle, and didn’t know which way to go because both ends were collapsing.

  * * *

  During the drive home, he spied a man and woman walking along the sidewalk with a young girl before them, holding the leash of a little gray dog.

  The weight inside him increased. That could have been Elsie with Benjamin and Annette, but it wasn’t. She no longer had her parents. She had no one but him.

  And Bridget, for now. She would leave as soon as Mrs. Conrad returned. She’d made that completely clear yesterday when they’d arrived home from the hospital, when they’d discussed her salary and duties.

  A boardinghouse. That idea still didn’t sit well with him. Her, inviting a plethora of strangers, most likely single men, into a house to live with her. Yet, she was determined to do it, and he doubted anything would stop her. He had to admit he liked that about her. It’s what had saved both her and Elsie. He was sure of that.

  Before he arrived home, he saw another family walking in the spring sunshine, with another dog. This one was black-and-white. Small, with lots of hair, and on a leash held by a little boy. There was an older boy, walking closer to the parents, and the mother was carrying a cluster of yellow flowers.

  He’d never wanted a family, and over the past few years had grown grateful that Benjamin had married as it had taken a lot of pressure off him.

  Pressure that had now returned.

  Tenfold.

  Elsie was his now, and he had to do the best for her. Just as he’d always done for Benjamin.

  Upon arriving at the house, he went straight to his office and stood in the open doorway, staring at the sight before him for several moments. Bridget was standing on a chair, practically hidden between the heavy drapes covering the window behind his desk.

  “What are you doing?” he finally asked.

  The curtains fluttered at her startled jolt, and he shot forward, afraid she was about to fall.

  She didn’t fall and was smiling down at him when he arrived at the chair.

  “Hello,” she said. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  He grasped the back of the chair. The idea of her falling still had his heart pounding. “What are you doing?”

  “Washing windows.” She reached up and pulled the drapes apart, shrouding herself in bright sunlight. “I couldn’t tell if there was a smear or if it was the sunlight, so I closed the drapes.” Smiling brighter, she said, “It was a streak, and is gone now.”

  He took her hand and helped her off the chair. “Washing windows does not fall within your duties.”

  She brushed a clump of hair off her forehead with the back of one hand. “Elsie is napping, so I decided to dust, and figured I might as well wash the windows, too.”

  He released her hand, only because it was making his own hand tingle. “Dusting isn’t your job, either.”

  “I know, but a house this size, there is always something that needs to be dusted or washed.”

  “That is why we have a maid.”

  “I know that, too.” She picked a feather duster off his desk and walked toward the fireplace. “Mrs. Dahl does a fine job, but she has a lot to do, so I thought I’d take care of some of it.”

  “Then we’ll have her come in more than two days a week,” he said, watching her swipe the duster over the top of the mantel. “There wasn’t that much to do with just me living here this past month.”

  “She can’t,” Bridget said, now dusting the bricks around the hearth opening. “She’s helping her daughter, who just had a baby.”

  “Then we’ll h
ire another maid.”

  She moved to dust the credenza behind the davenport. “There’s no need. I can help while I’m here, and then Mrs. Dahl will resume her normal schedule.” Walking around the davenport, she nodded. “I’m done in here now. I was hoping to finish before you arrived. Sorry.”

  He grasped her arm as she started toward the door. “Have you been cleaning every day?”

  Her cheeks grew pink. “Only while Elsie’s napping.” She glanced at the doorway. “I better go check on her.”

  He tightened his hold on her arm and forced himself not to smile at how cute she looked trying to escape. “What else have you been doing around here? Besides cleaning?”

  She huffed out a breath. “Just some cooking and dish washing. But Elsie helps with that. Everyone should know how to cook a few things and wash dishes. She enjoys it.”

  He was certain that Elsie would enjoy doing anything with Bridget. He did. Church this morning, evening meals, even going to the hospital yesterday. She had a way of saying things, of doing things that made him want to smile. Including right now.

  “I need to go check on her,” she said.

  Releasing her arm, he nodded. As she was walking out of the office, he thought of the families he’d seen earlier. “Bridget.”

  She stopped, turned around.

  “Would you and Elsie care to take a walk later?” Feeling odd, he quickly explained, “It’s very nice out.” What was he thinking? He never went for afternoon walks, yet, it appeared that many families did, so he probably should get used to it.

  “We would like that very much,” she said. “I’d already promised her that we’d go outside, play in the backyard this afternoon.”

  A sense of enjoyment that he hadn’t felt in a long time filled him. “Good. Thank you.”

  She nodded and left the room, and with his mind still on those families he’d seen on his drive home, he walked to his desk and picked up the telephone.

  * * *

  Bridget pretended as if her insides weren’t fluttering like a bird caught in a cage as she walked up the staircase. If she could have jumped out the window when he’d arrived in the room, she would have. Mary and Willard had insisted she didn’t need to clean or help in the kitchen, but as she’d told them, it was the least she could do for her keep. Besides, she’d never been one to sit around. There had always been something that needed to be done at the pub. The few chores she’d done while being here was nothing compared to all she’d done back home. It wouldn’t compare with what she’d be doing once she opened her boardinghouse, either.

  Her house wouldn’t be this big, but there would be more people. Plenty of people.

  It wasn’t helping. She was trying to think of anything other than Karl asking if she and Elsie would like to go for a walk. She was excited about that. Elsie needed to be with family, and that was Karl. Only Karl.

  A nanny didn’t count as family. She’d been thinking about that today, her first day of actually being Elsie’s nanny.

  She’d also been thinking about Karl’s mother. Not about her as much as him, and how angry he’d become when talking about her, thinking about her. The more she’d thought about it, the sadder she’d become, for him. Family shouldn’t hate each other, and she feared he hated his mother.

  “Bridget! I’m awake!”

  A smile filled her face as she pushed the door to Elsie’s room the all the way open. “I see that, Poppet.” She walked over and picked Elsie off the bed. “And guess what? Your uncle Karl wants you to take a walk with him.”

  Elsie wrapped her arms around her neck. “Yippie!”

  She put Elsie down. “Help me make your bed and then we’ll get you ready.”

  Elsie grabbed the corner of the blanket to pull it over the sheets. “You, too!”

  “Me, too.” Bridget helped her make the bed and then took her across the hall to wash her face, brush her hair and tie it back with a blue bow that matched her frilly dress. All the while, she wondered if she should let just Elsie and Karl go on the walk. By the time they were done, she’d convinced herself she would go this time, but not the next.

  Karl was waiting in the doorway of his office, and Bridget let go of Elsie’s hand so she could run to him and jump into his arms. Which is exactly what happened. Elsie had her arms locked around his neck when Bridget arrived at the door.

  He always looked so handsome. He’d removed his suit jacket, and the dark brown color of his vest over his white shirt was the same shade as his hair and eyes, which were twinkling with a secretive gleam.

  “Someone is very excited about taking a walk with you,” Bridget said, trying to hide how fast her heart was beating.

  “I’ve changed that a small amount,” he said. “We are going to take a drive instead.” He tickled Elsie’s side. “There’s something I want this little girl to see.”

  Giggling, Elsie asked, “What?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He put Elsie down. “Ready?”

  Bridget nodded while Elsie shouted, “Yes!”

  * * *

  Elsie sat on the front seat between them, as she had that morning when they’d driven to church, and chatted. It wasn’t until they were several blocks away from home that Bridget realized Betsy had been left upstairs, on the bed. She hoped Elsie wouldn’t realize, or if she did, wouldn’t be overly upset. As a nanny, she should have remembered the doll. She hadn’t because her thoughts had been on Karl. That needed to stop. It was hard, though, because there was so much about him that she wanted to know.

  He eventually pulled up next to a lovely painted white home with a wide front porch. “We’re here.”

  Bridget had no idea what he wanted to show Elsie, and gave him a curious look as he opened the door for her. He grinned and shrugged, that secretive gleam still in his eyes.

  As soon as he’d helped her out, she released his hand and moved aside so he could lift Elsie out of the vehicle.

  “Hello!” a blond-haired man greeted as he walked down the steps of the big house.

  He looked somewhat familiar to Bridget, and she wasn’t sure why.

  “Hello, Reggie,” Karl said. “Thank you for inviting us over. This is Bridget McGowen, and this—” he jiggled Elsie on his hip to make her giggle “—is Elsie.”

  “I’m glad you could drive over,” Reggie said, walking closer.

  “This is Reggie Peters,” Karl told her. “An old and dear friend of mine.”

  “Miss McGowen,” Reggie said with a nod as he stopped before them.

  She then knew why he looked familiar. “You were at the dock, the night we arrived. Made people move so Willard could drive through the crowd.”

  “That was me,” he said.

  “Thank you for that,” she said.

  “You’re very welcome.” He then smiled brightly at Elsie. “I have two little girls who are very excited to meet you. Leslie is four and Becky is six. They are in the backyard.”

  Bridget’s heart nearly doubled in size as she looked up at Karl. Playmates for Elsie was even more special than a walk. He winked at her as he took her elbow and, still carrying Elsie, followed Reggie toward the house.

  “My wife, Alice, is in the backyard, too,” Reggie said. “With refreshments so we can visit while the girls play.”

  Unable to keep her thoughts to herself, Bridget said to Karl, “This was so thoughtful of you.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” he replied.

  She shook her head at him, because the glint in his eyes held a teasing flare.

  Reggie led them through a quaint home with shining wood floors, colorful braided rugs and cream-colored wallpaper, out onto a back porch that had a small metal table with chairs and a porch swing.

  “Hello, I’m Alice,” a tall, thin woman with curly blond hair said as they walked onto the porch.

  Reggie made the introducti
ons, and again when two little girls, both with long blond hair ran onto the porch followed by four floppy-eared, copper-colored dogs. Three puppies and one older dog.

  Bridget laughed as Elsie wiggled for Karl to let her down. This was truly a delightful surprise, and within minutes, Elsie was running through the green grass in the backyard with Leslie, Becky and all four dogs.

  “She is having the time of her life,” Bridget said as Karl held a chair for her to be seated.

  “So are the girls, and Trixie and her pups.” Alice smiled at her husband. “Reggie built them the playhouse last fall, and they were excited to show it to a friend.”

  Bridget had noticed the little pink and blue gingerbread house in the backyard right away. All three girls were now running in and out of it with the puppies while the mother dog lay down near a tree that hadn’t yet completely leafed out. “It’s adorable. So are your girls and puppies.”

  “Luckily, they are all potty-trained,” Alice said, laughing.

  “The girls and the puppies,” Reggie added, laughing, as well.

  The conversation flowed from there as the four of them drank coffee and watched the girls play for an extended length of time. Bridget couldn’t seem to stop staring at Karl. He looked relaxed, at ease, and was smiling. Remembering good times as he talked about Benjamin, shared stories about when they were young, in school with Reggie and Alice. That warmed her heart as much as the day did, how he’d brought Elsie over here to play with other children.

  “Bridget!” Elsie exclaimed, running up the short set of steps, followed closely by a little puppy with a cute little white spot in the center of its forehead. “Come see the house! You, too, Uncle Karl!”

  Karl stood and excused them as he pulled out her chair for her.

  Walking across the grass, holding one of Elsie’s hands while Karl held the other, Bridget realized that she’d never allowed herself to think about something like this. A family, children, a life like Reggie and Alice had. Her focus had been on owning a boardinghouse for as long as she could remember.