Echoes of Titanic (46 page)

What special women they both were. Deeply touched, Kelsey got out of bed, walked over to her desk, and turned on her printer, which also worked as a copier. She knew she would be reading this letter again and again, but she didn't want to damage the paper. Better she make a copy for reference and return the original to the diary for safekeeping.

That done, she put the diary safely away in the bedside drawer and then got back under the covers with a copy of the letter. Reading through it again, more slowly this time, it struck her not just how relevant Jocelyn's words were but also how much Kelsey really was like her great-grandmother. People had
always said so, and even as a girl she'd known it to be true, but only now did she realize their similarities went much further than mere common interests. From Jocelyn's letter—and from the diary entries that preceded it—it was clear that Adele had had the same tendency as Kelsey did to place work above everything else in her life. Even at nineteen, she was blessed to have someone in her life to point that out to her, just as Kelsey's mother had confronted her the other day.

Yet there was something about this letter that took the issue so much further than Doreen had. It went beyond a mere matter of priorities and into the realm of faith—real, gut-level faith. And even though these words had been written one hundred years ago, they were every bit as relevant now. More than that, they were relevant to Kelsey specifically—to
her
situation,
her
life. Jocelyn Brennan had been dead since 1912, and yet she might as well have been sitting here tonight and telling her these things face-to-face.

Kelsey realized that God really did want her to live completely, in a way that had room both for her ambitions and for love. More importantly, however, was this truth about the God-shaped hole in everyone's heart.
Please always remember that this place in your heart can never be filled with work
or
with love but with Christ alone
.

Her eyes slowly filling with tears, Kelsey read and reread that sentence, its truths washing over her like a balm. How much she'd needed to hear that. How simple it sounded now.

In the last paragraph, Jocelyn referred to a verse in the Bible. Kelsey had no idea where her Bible was or even if she still even owned one, but she wanted to look up that verse, so she grabbed her iPhone instead and checked to see if there was an app for that. Sure enough, there were dozens of Bible programs, many of them free. She picked one to download and a minute later was looking at Ecclesiastes 1:7, which said,
All streams flow to the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again
.

That didn't make much sense to her out of context, so she ended up reading the whole chapter—and then she went on to read the entire book of Ecclesiastes. Back in her youth group days, this was a part of the Bible that hadn't made much sense to her. But now, with added years of maturity, she was able to understand what the writer was saying. Everything in this world was an endless cycle. Life was a drudgery. There was nothing new under the sun.

All that really mattered was God.

With that thought filling her mind and her heart, Kelsey found herself moving from the bed to the floor and kneeling there, almost as if her body were acting independently of herself. Placing her elbows on the mattress, she clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. There she remained for a long time, simply praying at first but soon listening and thinking and worshipping and confessing as well. Then and there, deep in the night, she could literally feel herself being heard and forgiven and, most of all, healed.

When she was finished, she offered one last prayer of gratitude and a heartfelt “Amen,” and then she slipped back into the bed and nestled under the covers. Soon she was drifting away, sleeping the sleep of the forgiven, dreaming the dreams of the redeemed.

April 14, 1912

J
OCELYN

I
n spite of the wonderful food and spectacular service, Sunday lunch was not pleasant as far as Jocelyn was concerned. The O'Connells were avoiding Tad, Tad was avoiding Adele, and Adele was so withdrawn she'd hardly spoken to anyone all day. Jocelyn had no idea what was going on and could not imagine what had changed so rapidly from the lovely time they had all shared the evening before.

As it was, Adele had slept so late that morning that she nearly missed the worship service entirely, slipping in at the last moment and sitting in the back by herself despite the empty seat next to Tad. After the church service, Jocelyn had pulled Adele aside and tried talking with her to see what was wrong, but she merely shook her head and said she was having a bad day.

“You're not getting sick, are you?” Jocelyn had asked, placing the back of her hand on her cousin's forehead. It felt cool.

“No, just tired,” Adele replied, adding that she thought she might take an afternoon nap.

“There's not some problem between you and Tad, is there?”

Adele looked away. “I'm not interested in him, if that's what you mean.”

“You're kidding! But everything looked so promising yesterday—”

Adele turned to face her, a new sadness in her eyes. “Some things become clearer in the light of day. He's…” She hesitated. “He's not who you think he is, Jocelyn. I don't want to say more than that.”

After that Adele simply turned and walked away. Disappointed and more curious than ever, Jocelyn headed up to the promenade deck to think things over and review the situation in her mind. What on earth could have happened to destroy such a promising relationship? She knew Tad could be a bit forward, but from what she'd seen, many Americans were that way. Rough edges could be smoothed with time, which Adele surely knew. It had to be more than that.

At the top of the stairs, she was pleased to see young Edith Brown from dinner last night, who immediately waved her over.

“Look, Jocelyn!” she whispered, gesturing toward a cluster of first-class passengers standing at the rail one floor above them. “It's the film star! Miss Gibson!”

Sure enough, the woman stood at the rail, gazing out at the sea, looking every bit as beautiful in person as she had in her photographs. Then, after a long moment, she turned and went inside.

Once she was gone, Edna sighed loudly and said, “I do so wish we were traveling first class.”

Ten minutes later, as Jocelyn was again alone and walking along the deck, it came to her. Tad had said almost the same thing their first day on board. Suddenly, Jocelyn realized what must have gone wrong between Tad and Adele: the tea with Mr. Williams in first class! Adele had said she wasn't going to tell Tad about it at all, but he must have found out somehow and become as upset as she had feared he would.

Shame on Tad for being so shallow
, Jocelyn thought as she made her way to the stairs. Her dear cousin didn't deserve this kind of treatment, and someone needed to tell him that!

She found Tad exactly where she'd expected, in the second-class smoking room. As women were not to go inside, she had to stand at the door and wait until she caught his eye. Fortunately, he was facing in her direction at a table not far away. From what she could see, he was engaged in a game of cards with several other young men.

When he finally spotted her, she gave a subtle flick of her hand and he came out of the room. Soon the two of them were together in the vestibule of the aft staircase, near the back side of the smoking room, where they could speak privately.

He sat on a sofa and she followed suit, apologizing for the interruption but saying they really needed to talk.

“It's not a problem. What's wrong? You look upset.”

“I have to ask you something, Tad, and I want you to be honest with me. It's obvious you and Adele have had a parting of the ways. Forgive my bluntness, but I'd like to know if this has anything to do with her visit to first class on Friday.”

He studied her face for a moment. “Her visit to first class?”

Jocelyn nodded. “The reason she didn't tell you about it was because of exactly this. She knew you'd feel hurt at having been excluded, so she thought it best not to bring it up at all.”

Tad thought for a long moment. “It is hurtful that she didn't tell me about it. In fact, I still don't know many details. Do you?”

“Oh, yes. I was quite excited for her and my father after I heard all about it. Mr. Williams is such a nice man, and Adele said the Palm Court was fantastic.”

“So you weren't invited either?”

“No, for the same reason you weren't.”

“Which was…”

She exhaled. “Because of the bonds, Tad. What did you think? Mr. Williams invited Adele because of the bonds my father bought on her behalf, and he invited my father because he'd been the one to do the purchasing. The three of them had a lovely time together, talked some business, and then came back. That's all it was. I certainly don't think that's worth ruining a relationship over.”

Tad shook his head. “I'm still a bit unclear, though. I know for a fact that Rowan did not buy any bonds from Mr. Williams on Tuesday.”

“That's correct. On Tuesday, he did not. But by Wednesday morning he'd had a change of heart. They conducted the transaction then, before breakfast.”

He seemed to think that over. “Where are those bonds now?” he asked. “Surely they didn't bring something so valuable onboard the ship, did they?”

Jocelyn shrugged. “I think he said they are in the ship's safe, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that you forgive Adele for not telling you, and then you accept the fact that you were excluded. These things happen. She had no control over Mr. Williams' guest list, you know. You can't expect her to have turned it down just because you weren't invited as well.”

Tad stood and walked to the nearest porthole, where he lingered for a while. Jocelyn was afraid she had also made him angry, but if she had, well, that was too bad. These things needed to be said regardless.

After a long minute or two, Tad returned to the sofa and sat, an odd expression on his face.

“May we speak confidentially?” he asked, sitting at an angle to face her.

“Yes, of course.”

“There's a bigger problem than that between me and her.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “Last night, when I walked Adele to her room, she…” His voice trailed off as he ran a hand across his face. “She said nothing of the interaction between us to you?”

“No, not a word.”

“Well, to be honest, she professed her love for me.”

Jocelyn's mouth fell open in surprise. “You're kidding! That's great news, isn't it?”

The man shook his head miserably.

“She practically threw herself at me. I like her well enough, and I tried to make a go of things yesterday, but the honest truth is that I cannot love Adele because I am already in love with someone else.”

Jocelyn's heart sank, realizing he must have someone back home, perhaps even a fiancée. Before she could decide how to respond, he leaned closer and locked his gaze on hers.

“To be honest, Jocelyn,” he said softly, taking her hand, “I'm madly in love with
you.
”

K
elsey awoke slowly, but as she came to consciousness, she realized some thing was wrong. Her alarm hadn't gone off, which meant it wasn't even six a.m., yet the room was bright with sunshine. Twisting around to see the clock, she saw that it was eight twenty-five. Immediately, she knew what had happened. She'd never actually set the alarm but only thought about it—and now she'd overslept!

Jumping out of bed, she got ready as quickly as possible, brushing out her hair and dabbing on some makeup and dressing in jeans and a light blue sweater. As she did, she sent Cole a text to let him know she was running late. He responded with an easy,
No prob. Will use the time to grab a bagel. Something for you?

Smiling, she texted back,
One guess
.

Without missing a beat, he replied,
One sugar, two creams?

You know me well. See you soon
.

Tucking her phone into her purse, Kelsey retrieved the diary from the bedside table. She didn't want to let it out of her sight, so she carefully wrapped it in a soft scarf for protection and put it in her purse, along with the copies of the bonds. Finally, she grabbed a prewrapped cheese square and a bottle of water from the kitchen, took her favorite casual jacket from the coat rack by the door, and headed out.

The morning was sunny but chilly, so she pulled on her jacket as soon as she stepped outside. She half walked, half jogged to Rector Station and got on the train, which was nearly empty. She sat across from the door, her purse
in her lap, and glanced around at her fellow passengers. This was definitely a Saturday bunch—everyone looking relaxed, with no suits or ties in sight. At the far end of the car sat a trio of teenagers, each of them sporting an instrument case. One lifted his case onto his lap and pulled out a violin, and for a moment Kelsey hoped he might play something. Instead, he simply began changing a string.