Voyage of Tears, CJ Wells [most romantic novels .txt] 📗
- Author: CJ Wells
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VOYAGE OF TEARS
By CJ Wells
Vivienne’s tears ran down her cheeks as she squeezed her five year old son so tightly he squealed. She kissed his thick curly chestnut-covered head for the umpteenth time, before handing him to her husband so she could wrap her small arms around them both. Time was running short, she needed to board the ship. With one last kiss for both the men in her life, she turned and ran up the ramp, her meager belongings stowed in a used, threadbare carpet bag.
Vivienne hurried to find an open place at the rail, where she could wave to her family until the massive ship sailed out of Southampton. John, her husband, removed his dark green wool cap, and waved it high above his and Jonah’s head. He was doing his best to make it easier for Vivienne to catch sight of them in the mob that was crowding the pier. She would have spotted them without any help, to her eyes the crowd had disappeared leaving John and Jonah standing alone waving good-by.
The love Vivienne and John shared was true and deep and she knew it would last a lifetime. Several passersby on the pier had taken notice of the perfect family picture the three of them painted. Vivienne was not what would be considered a classical beauty, but she had no trouble living up to pretty. Her dark, chocolate brown hair, nicely complimented her hazel eyes and flawless ivory complexion, but it was her smile that drew people to her. It came as much from her eyes as it did from her lips. It was honest and open, inviting easy conversation.
John’s muscular build topped with thick, wavy, sandy blond hair and ocean blue eyes, had earned him more than one second look. Their son, Jonah, was a perfect blending of his parents. His eyes not quite as hazel as his mother’s, yet not as blue as his father’s, his chestnut colored hair showed equal mixtures of Vivienne and John’s hues. It was obvious, even now that his build would not be as stocky as John’s, but definitely not as slight as Vivienne’s.
At the time Jonah was born, John and Vivienne were young and poor, and had few prospects, but that did not diminish the joy they had in having a child. They were use to making due with very little as they had spent their childhood in the same orphanage. What had begun as a childhood friendship had developed into the love they now shared. Their most important priority was creating a family. They were aware some people, including Vivienne’s mistress, felt they should not have brought a child into a household short on everything except love, but their critics did not understand how inventive love can be. Vivienne and John knew Jonah would never lack for anything that was truly important. Nothing mattered, but the three of them, they would make it together.
Vivienne’s best friend, Joanna, had made her a bright red shawl from a piece of beautiful, soft-as-velvet wool. With tears in her eyes, Vivienne had thanked her friend for the far too extravagant gift. Joanna explained the bright red color was so John and Jonah would be able to see her from the vast distance between the pier and the ship’s deck, and it had worked. Even though Vivienne stood barely five feet tall and weighed less than a hundred pounds fully dressed, the shawl distinguished her from the other passengers. She waved and waved until all she could see were tiny dark specks dotting the pier. The RMS Olympic had departed Southampton Harbor, England at precisely twelve noon on November thirtieth, 1911.
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Vivienne followed the steward’s directions to the stern of the ship, and “E” deck. She made her way down the narrow, white enameled hallway to her third class cabin. Careful to double-check that the cabin number on her ticket matched the shiny brass numbers tacked to the door, before turning the polished brass knob. Vivienne opened the door to the approximately nine by nine square foot room that would accommodate her, as well as three other passengers, for the next seven days.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing,” commented a sixtyish, buxom woman who was sitting on the first lower bunk, as Vivienne stepped in to the room. She was momentarily startled, but quickly realized the woman wore a friendly smile and hadn’t considered the comment forward.
A young girl sat on the floor, in front of the woman, having her hair braided. The older woman attached a pale pink silk ribbon to the bottom of the second braid saying, “Hop up Leah, I’m finished.” As the girl stood, so did the woman. Bright orange hair peeped out from under her, rather tattered black felt hat. She was no taller than Vivienne, but at least twice as wide. Her face was round, with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes. She extended her hand as she said, “I am Tillie Brooks.” Vivienne took the proffered hand responding, “Vivienne Taylor.” As Tillie continue the introductions, Vivienne realized there was another young girl on the bunk above the one Tillie had just vacated. Tillie indicated her and said, “This is Evie, she is nine.” She then turned and touched the arm of the girl with the braids saying, “And this is Leah, she is eleven. Unfortunately my poor dears lost their parents in a rail accident in August. I am their nanny and am escorting them to America where we will live with their mother’s younger sister.”
At a loss, Vivienne was unsure what to say, the sadness was easily read in both sets of brown eyes. She looked from Leah to Evie and quietly said, “I’m so sorry.” The girls whispered, “Thank you,” both lowering their heads.
Vivienne hoped a change of subject would lighten the heavy mood that had filled the room. She looked around, trying to decide, which berth had not been claimed. Leah quickly figured out Vivienne’s dilemma and said, “Oh, I am on this top bunk,” pointing to the bed opposite where Evie still sat, “and Miss Tillie is on Evie’s side on the lower. I’m happy to trade with you, if you prefer the upper bed.”
Vivienne’s soft heart compelled her to take Leah in her arms and assure her things would get better. Uncertain if the child would welcome the gesture, Vivienne instead smiled and lightly squeezed Leah’s hand saying, “Actually I much prefer the lower berth.”
To confirm her statement, she placed her carpet bag and shawl on the empty bed, and sat down beside them, suddenly feeling drained from the emotional upheaval of the day. Vivienne took a deep breath, and began to take note of her surroundings. She shifted her eyes to scan the room. The walls matched the white enameled hallway. Dark wooden frames attached four narrow bunks to the wall, above the rusty red and white tile floor. In between the bunks, attached to the wall, was a polished wood and white porcelain wash basin. The room was neat, clean and compact.
Leah sat by Tillie, while Evie took a spot on the floor to have her hair braided. Leah and Evie were slender girls, with golden brown hair and oval faces. Their noses graced by a smidgen of light freckling. Both showed the potential to grow into true beauties.
“We’re going to do some exploring before afternoon tea. You’re welcome to join us.” Tillie offered. Without hesitation Vivienne responded, “That would be lovely.” The busier she stayed, the less time she would have to dwell on missing her family.
Evie shyly slipped her hand in Vivienne’s as they left the cabin. The child had no idea how needed the lifeline was she had just thrown to Vivienne. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the small hand she would have to hold while separated from Jonah.
The four cabin mates found themselves standing at the rail watching the ship dock in Cherbourg, France, to allow the embarkation of three hundred or so more passengers. They were enjoying the sights and laughing together as if they had been lifelong friends.
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Dinner was served in a large square dining room with long tables covered in starched white tablecloths. They dined on roast beef with gravy and boiled potatoes, fresh bread and plum pudding, more food than had ever graced John and Vivienne’s table at one setting. She felt guilty for the luxury she was enjoying while John and Jonah were alone in the drab little room they called home.
Defiantly raising her chin, she reminded herself, they would not call it home for long. They might never be wealthy in America, but they would have enough to be content.
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Not having spent a single night separated from John since they married seven years ago, Vivienne was dreading the first night aboard ship, afraid the dark and quiet room would retrigger her tears, but she had underestimated Tillie.
Tillie Brooks was a people person, curious and insightful. She paid attention to every word and wrinkled brow, and put the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle. She was confident she had formed a fairly clear picture of Vivienne’s situation.
Leah and Evie put on new cotton nightgowns, and were tucked up in bed with a good night kiss on the forehead. They cuddled down for the night, and were fast asleep within ten minutes.
Tillie and Vivienne had also made themselves comfortable in their respective beds after flipping off the light. Tillie shifted to her side, turning toward Vivienne, she softly asked “Are you up to sharing why you are sailing to America without your family, or would you rather wait until tomorrow?”
The dark room hid the smile that touched Vivienne’s lips, but after a full day of getting to know Tillie’s curious nature, the question did not come as a surprise. Vivienne took a deep breath and began her story, her voice strong and determined.
“I am going to America to take a position as an Abigail.” After a slight pause Vivienne continued in a softer, distant tone, as sadness filled the memories she was about to relate. “My sickly mother, who could no longer care for me, left me at an orphanage when I was two years old. That was the last time I saw her, she died shortly afterwards. My only saving grace from that drab, dark place was John. He was only four years old when we met, but he took me under his wing. I fell in love with him the moment I looked into his blue eyes. From that moment on we were inseparable. At least until he turned nine years old and the orphanage sent him to a bakery for training. Although he came home in the evenings, our time together was severely limited. Devastated by
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