Eve was so nervous as the ship sailed into New York Harbor that she had to stay belowdecks, her stomach turning itself inside out with vomiting. Harry sensed her fear and became colicky, refusing to nurse. It seemed to take hours for the regular passengers to disembark. The brides who had families meeting them would be next. The Barretts had sent a telegram saying they would be waiting for her. When the time came, she rinsed her mouth and brushed her hair and pulled her hat low to help hide her face. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw a pale, frightened woman she didn’t recognize. She pinched her cheeks to try to restore some color. It didn’t help.
Harry squirmed in her arms, fussing, as Eve waited on deck for Audrey’s name to be called. She wore her very best suit and hat, but they weren’t the fine quality of Audrey’s clothing. Was that another mistake people would spot? Eve wished she had thought to polish her scuffed shoes before leaving Wellingford.
“Mrs. Robert Barrett . . . Robert Clarkson Barrett . . .”
Eve’s chest ached from her wildly pounding heart. She felt so weak and dizzy after being sick that she wasn’t sure she could make it down the gangplank. A well-dressed couple with Robert’s dark hair waited on the dock. This was the final test. If they had Audrey’s picture, they would know at once that Eve was an impostor. Her eyes filled with tears as she approached. But then the couple hurried toward her. Mrs. Barrett had tears in her eyes, as well.
“Audrey? . . . Is it really you?” she asked. Eve could only nod. She feared she would be sick again as the Barretts studied her for a long moment. The pier seemed to sway, her legs unaccustomed to dry land.
Then Mr. Barrett gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Welcome, my dear. Robert told us you were a tiny little thing, and you surely are.”
Mrs. Barrett hesitated as if still unsure. Eve shifted Harry to her other hip as he continued to fuss, his cries growing louder. At last, Mrs. Barrett stepped forward. “Will you come to Nana, darling?” she asked, reaching for him. Miraculously, Harry stopped fussing and went into her welcoming arms. “Oh, my darling boy! What a long ordeal you’ve had!” She kissed his forehead, hugged him, and kissed him again. Harry smiled his charming grin.
“Come, let’s get both of you home where you belong,” Mr. Barrett said.
Home. The floodgates opened for Eve at the mention of what she longed for the most. She couldn’t hold back her tears. Mr. Barrett smiled as he pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her. “Thank you for coming, Audrey. It means so much to have you and Robert’s son with us.”
For Audrey, the days felt as fragile as dry leaves. At times, caring for her son was life-giving, and she bundled him up for walks around Wellingford’s spacious grounds. Other days, the slightest brush of a memory caused her composure to crumble into dust, and the hired nurse would take over Bobby’s care. Today was one of those days. Audrey sat alone at her desk, rereading Robert’s letters, imagining that he was alive and that she would go to him soon. Yet she found comfort here in Wellingford Hall. It was where she and Robert fell in love. Where they first kissed. She could close her eyes and cling to his memory.
Every once in a while, the dry leaves of her life would stir up memories of the war years, and as she relived those experiences, it seemed as though she’d merely read a book about a woman who once drove an ambulance into scenes of unimaginable horror. Audrey was no longer that person. She tried to banish those memories each time they reappeared and struggled to figure out who she was now. Those memories also featured Eve and raised her lingering anger over Eve’s desertion. Yet she was glad that Eve was gone. She would accuse Audrey of going through the motions of living without really living at all. And she would be right.
A knock on the door startled Audrey from her reverie. “Rev. Hamlin is here to see you,” Robbins said. The fragile leaves stirred, the edges crumbled. The vicar had taught Audrey how to pray during the war, how to find strength in God. He had officiated at her wedding. A lifetime ago.
“Please tell him to come back another day.”
Robbins didn’t move. “He thought you might say that. He said to tell you he isn’t leaving until he has a chance to speak with you.”
“Very well. Show him in.” She would get it over with.
“Shall I bring tea?” Robbins asked.
“No. He won’t be staying long.” She stowed Robert’s letters inside the desk drawer, steeling herself as she rose to greet him.
“I came to offer my condolences,” the vicar said, reaching for her hand. “Your husband was a fine man.”
“Thank you.” She would say very little and not engage him in conversation. But Rev. Hamlin sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace as if she had offered it to him. Good manners required her to take the other chair.
“Robbins told me about the tragic circumstances of your husband’s death and about the woman who took his life and her own.”
“Then there’s nothing left to say.”
The vicar paused, then leaned forward in his chair. “Audrey . . . why do you suppose your husband got into the car with her?” The kindness in his eyes, the gentleness in his voice, nearly undid her. She couldn’t reply. It was a question she had never dared to ask and didn’t want to contemplate now. “I didn’t come here to cause you more pain,” he continued. “My job ever since the war began has been a difficult one as I’ve tried to defend God and explain the unexplainable. People ask why He allows these tragedies to happen, and I don’t have an answer except to say that He knows things that we don’t know and sees things we can’t possibly see. I can only urge you to continue forward, like a ship in the fog, perhaps, trusting His love.”
A vivid memory came to Audrey—how she’d gripped the wheel of Alfie’s boat to steer it through the darkness. She remembered her fear and the dizzying feeling of unreality, as if everything were happening to someone else. It was not unlike what she felt now. “But the ship I’m in has no rudder, Reverend. And the fog never lifts.”
He reached for her hand, his fingers calloused and warm. “During the war, we had a tangible enemy, an evil enemy. And thank God, that enemy was defeated. When I comfort those who’ve lost loved ones, I usually can help them see that their loss had a higher purpose, serving the greater good of combating the Nazis. Do any of us doubt how much more suffering would be unleased if Hitler had been victorious? Those who died gave their lives as God’s soldiers, fighting so the people they loved could be free from that evil. It was the same reason that God allowed His Son to suffer and die an unspeakable death—so the people He loves could be free.”
“Robert didn’t die in battle.”
“Didn’t he? Can you explain why he agreed to climb into a car with a woman who obviously hated him?”
Audrey stared down at the vicar’s hand, still clasping hers. It was unexplainable. Robert knew Linda was unstable. He should have stayed far away from her. But Audrey also remembered Robert saying, “I need to see her face-to-face and apologize if I hurt her. I need to ask her to forgive me.”
“It required courage to do what he did,” the vicar said. “Courage your husband learned in battle as a soldier.”