Remembering the Titanic by Diane Hoh Read Free Book Online Page A

ocean.
    But Max persisted. “You do still like me back, don’t you, Elizabeth? Say it! Or I’ll go back home and paint all day instead of beating you at tennis.”
    She aimed a questioning glance at his gray slacks and blue sweater. “You can’t play tennis in those clothes.”
    “I brought whites. They’re in my car.”
    His car? Elizabeth squealed and bolted upright. “Tour car? You bought a car? Oh, Max, what fun! Let me see it!” She jumped up and ran to the door, yanking it open. Without waiting to see if he was behind her, she ran down the steps. The car was parked at the curb. It was quite new, its paint shiny black, its upholstery white. There was a small glass vase attached near the window, and Max had already filled it with a single pink rose.
    Clapping her hands in delight, Elizabeth cried, “And it’s all yours ?” She whirled to throw her arms around his neck, without a thought for disapproving passersby. “I thought you said no one needed a car in the city.”
    “Changed my mind. If I ever decide to do landscapes again, I’ll need a car to go exploring the countryside. And,” he said, grinning, “this’ll make it easier to see you, too. It’s a Kettering. No cranking. Don’t have to worry about fracturing my painting arm. Want to go for a spin?”
    “You bet! Wait’ll I run in and tell Moth —” Elizabeth stopped speaking abruptly, and frowned. “Oh, no. I just remembered. We’re to meet with the dressmaker in forty-five minutes. Mother’s bathing, and I’m supposed to be doing the same.” Disappointment clouded her face.
    Max leaned against the car, his arms folded over his chest. He was no longer smiling. “The dressmaker? You’d rather be stuck with pins than go for a ride in my new car?”
    “No, of course I wouldn’t.” Elizabeth looked longingly at the car. “But we have this appointment, and Madame Claude-Pierre is not someone you break appointments with. She’s French, you know. Not exactly the soul of patience.”
    “Why can’t your mother go alone?” He didn’t add, “For a change,” but Elizabeth heard it in his voice.
    “They’re my clothes, too, Max. It’s spring. I can’t wear my winter clothes in the springtime.” This struck Elizabeth as very ironic, because she would have preferred to continue wearing the warmer winter clothes. But if she admitted that to Max, he’d tell her again that she should see a doctor about her constant chill, as he had at Christmas. “And my mother would be very upset if I said I wasn’t going. You know how she gets.”
    He shrugged. “Okay. If you don’t want to take a ride in my new car, I guess I’ll go home and paint.”
    “I’m sorry, Max.” She was very sorry. But her mother’s reaction if Elizabeth said she wasn’t going to the dressmaking appointment would be much worse than Max’s reaction. Max never overreacted the way Nola did. Or maybe he was just becoming accustomed to her choosing her mother over him. He did not look happy, though. “You could come back later,” she suggested. “We should be home by three. Or we could go tomorrow afternoon.”
    “That’s half the afternoon gone, three o’clock,” Max said, his voice cool. “And I think it’s going to rain tomorrow.” He shrugged again. “Your mother probably has something planned, anyway.” Without a good-bye kiss, he moved away from Elizabeth, around the front of the car to climb into the driver’s seat. When he was behind the wheel, he added, “I hope you’ve noticed that I’m not arguing about this. But it’s not because I don’t care. It’s because I know it would be a waste of time. But you know what, Elizabeth? I don’t for a minute believe your father meant you should give up your whole life. I don’t think he’d want you to do that.”
    “Max …” Elizabeth was close to tears. It was a wonderful car, and the thought of spending the whole, sunny afternoon riding around in it at Max’s side was exactly what she wanted