Page 87 of The Missing Pages
“Thanks so much.” Theo opened his wallet and paid the small sum.
“I hope your friend likes it,” he said.
“It’sTreasure Island,” Violet smiled. “I think he’s going to love it.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG FORQUARITCH ANDROSENBACH
to come to an agreement. Within two days, Ada received a telegram from London.
Rosenbach and I have worked out our agreement. Please proceed to Philadelphia if you still would like to pursue what we discussed. You can return to our office at any time convenient to you. B.A.Q.
Ada put the piece of paper down on the desk and sat on the bed, placing her hand over her abdomen. It had now been almost a month since theTitanichad sunk, and there wasn’t a time she wasn’t replaying in her head all of her moments aboard the ship with Harry. From the first idyllic hours they had spent in the privacy in her cabin, to the horrible minutes when they had to say their final good-byes.
It all felt like part of a fever dream. And yet, as she peeled her eyes toward the future, she knew she would soon have another anguish-filled decision to make. Could she keep the one thing that was a living, breathing embodiment of her love with Harry? Or would she force herself to give that up? She didn’t need to have read all those novels in her youth to know that the prospects of being an unwed mother were grim. Quaritch would never let her work in the store in sucha scandalous state, and she assumed Rosenbach would not either, though she hardly knew him.
She stretched out on her bed and tried to calm her nerves and soothe her queasiness.
Her constant morning sickness felt like a double-edged sword. The waves of nausea mimicked seasickness, a feeling that invariably drew her back to being on the collapsible lifeboat and the horror of watching Harry go down with the ship.
But it also reminded her of the love that had resulted in her current state. The irony was not lost on her. She tried to conjure Harry beside her, telling her she was strong. That she was intelligent. That she would find her way.
Hadn’t that been what he told her on their first long walk in Holland Park, that she was all those things and more?
Katharine Stephen, her mentor at Newnham College, had told her one afternoon while she was helping in the college’s library, “Be the heroine of your own story. Don’t let anyone write it but you.”
Ada closed her eyes, reminding herself that what Miss Stephen had shared was sound advice.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
“Do you want to take the tobacco back home or should I?” Violet asked Theo. “Either way, we should definitely bring it on Friday when we meet up with Lux.”
“I’ll take it,” he answered. “That way I’ll have it and can always show it to her even if something derails your plans.”
“Nothing is going to keep me from meeting up with you there. I’ve already told my mom and dad I have to be in Wilmington for the day. They weren’t happy about it, but they’re also relieved I’m not lying in my bed depressed.”
“Holidays can be hard.” Theo paused. “It sounds stupid, but when we lost our family’s golden retriever, Thanksgiving… Christmas, all of those holidays after Sundance died were just awful. My mom told us the reason it hurts so bad is because we miss thelove.”
Violet nodded. Even though she had never spent a Thanksgiving Day or Christmas Eve with Hugo, beginning freshman year, he still had been a part of her holidays. They’d made sure to always start each one together, by leaving Boston on the same Amtrak train, with Hugo getting off at Old Saybrook, Connecticut, as she continued on to Philly. Then they would meet up the day after their family celebrations. This would be the first Thanksgiving since she arrived at Harvard that she wouldn’t have either of these shared moments with him.
“That really sums it up perfectly,” she said.
Theo looked at her. “I’m sorry it feels so hard for you.”
“You’re making it a little easier.” Violet managed a smile. “This meeting with Lux is a good distraction. Hugo, Harry, my grandmother Helen? Will any of them speak through her? I can’t wait to hear what she has to say.”
Violet walked into Widener at the end of the day, heading straight to pick up the delivery of flowers. Just as Lottie had described, the floral bouquet was a beautiful arrangement of vibrant blooms that were chosen not just with care, but also with affection.
She walked up the marble steps toward Harry’s study, moved past the velvet rope, and entered the sacred space. She set down the flowers and breathed in the smell of books intermingling with the aroma of the fresh roses and the earthy smell of the thistle leaves Lottie had used. Did she also catch the scent of tobacco again? The blend that Leavitt and Peirce had made just for Harry?
Violet took another deep breath before she was interrupted by Madeline.
“Violet… I’m so glad I caught you before the break.” Madeline seemed uncharacteristically flustered.
“I had Harry’s flowers delivered a day early. I wanted to make sure he had a special set for Thanksgiving,” Violet said. She looked toward the colorful bouquet and smiled. “I thought Mrs. Widener would have wanted that.”
Madeline’s face appeared strained. “That’s kind of what I wanted to discuss with you, Violet. You’ve helped me so much in addition to your page work—with the miniscula and the transcriptions and making sure the flowers are ordered and delivered on time… But I’m growing a bit concerned that you’re getting too close to everything.”
