Pictures of the Past by Deby Eisenberg Read Free Book Online Page A

cousin’s family, all in adjacent North Shore communities. He chose not to interpret her sullen mood and tearfulness as emanating from a lack of understanding and support, but just the disappointment of separation that tugged also at his heart.
    “When I come back, I will have something for you…something very special,” he told her the last morning. He had dressed at 5:00 a.m. for the long car ride to Chicago’s Union Station, and while the chauffeur placed the suitcases in the black Packard, Taylor had quietly opened the door to Emily’s room and gently rubbed her back to wake her.
    She heard the words as she emerged from sleep and with her eyes still closed there was a slight smile on her face. “You will have something for me?”
    “Ah, ha. I knew that would improve your mood and chase away your frowns.”
    She maneuvered herself to a more upright position against her considerable collection of pillows and made no attempt to adjust the bodice of her nightgown, which revealed a generous glimpse of her right breast. Taylor kissed her there, then drew her to him in a tight embrace. He planted more kisses in the rich thickness of her glorious hair before his lips finally settled on hers, and then he pulled back for a lingering look into her eyes.
    “I love you, Taylor,” she said. “I will miss you so much.”
    “Wait for me…I will come back to you soon,” he promised.
    A representative from the SS Normandie was waiting at Grand Central Station in New York when he arrived to take him to the harbor and assist with his luggage. The Normandie was twice the size of the Titanic, and was built to be the most powerful and fastest ship ever constructed, boasting modern turbo engines and a new hull design.
    Taylor was not one of those who let out an audible gasp when he ascended the boarding plank and entered the foyer of the grand ship, nevertheless he was truly awed. There was a museum quality to the structure, with sculptures and paintings that were rarely seen in public spaces. And this was a deliberate new direction for the models of such luxury liners. While refugees to the United States had previously filled ships with lower-class passengers and even steerage, the declining immigration quotas had now influenced the steamship line to design a ship geared mainly toward amenities for first-class passengers.
    Carrying just his briefcase, he approached the purser’s desk where there was only a short wait until it was his turn and he presented his boarding papers.
    “Mr. Woodmere,” a young, uniformed officer of the ship addressed him after glancing at them for his name, “Welcome to the Normandie and please tell me any way I might be of assistance to you during the cruise.” The purser did not speak with the French accent that Taylor had anticipated and so he surmised that among the special considerations that would make American first-class passengers feel most at home was the hiring of employees who spoke their language and understood their needs. The European traveler might require a fuller bulk to his pillows and duvets, might expect a larger meal at lunch and lighter fare in the evening, and might want to begin that repast at an hour when the Americans would be folding their napkins and pushing their chairs from the table. The French would want their morning café, the English their afternoon tea, and the Americans an enormous dessert display.
    “And I’m glad to know that you will personally be available to me,” Taylor said in the friendly, joking style that sometimes only Americans can understand. “I am traveling on business to Paris and I may need to communicate with Chicago during our crossing. Is that possible or do I sound impossibly naïve to even ask?”
    “Sir, that is a reasonable question. Every ship will have its own capabilities, but not every ship has the efficacy of communications as does the Normandie.” He went on to explain that the ship was fitted with the most advanced technology