Jacobean. Joanna had no idea what Jacobean furniture looked like. She pulled into the parking lot of Vielle’s apartment complex. “Now, I have to warn you,” she said, shutting off her headlights. “We have a rule against talking about work at Dish Night, so you’ll have to tell me about the rest of this on the way back.”
“Okay,” Kit said. “Just let me finish this part about the dining saloon.” Joanna nodded and switched on the overhead light. “It was located in the center of the ship, on the saloon deck, next to the Grand Staircase. It was one hundred and fourteen feet long and was capable of seating five hundred passengers at a time. It was painted white and had two rows of white pillars down the middle. The chairs and tables were dark oak, and the chairs were upholstered in dark green velvet with headrests embroidered in fleurs-de-lis.” Kit folded up the paper and stuck it back in the pocket of her coat. “I’ll tell you what I found out about the engines stopping on the way back,” she said, but that wouldn’t be necessary. Richard was right. It wasn’t the Titanic.
28
“SOS. Come at once—big list—ten miles south Head Old Kinsak—SOS…”
Vielle had a fit about Joanna’s having brought Kit. “Are you out of your mind?” she whispered when Kit took the popcorn into the living room. “Letting her near Richard? Did you look at her? She’s beautiful, and guys really go for the fragile, helpless type. If he gets one look at her, you can kiss your chances with Dr. Right good-bye.”
“Richard’s not coming,” Joanna said. “We had a problem with the session this afternoon, and he needed to—”
“What kind of problem?” Vielle demanded. “And whose session? Yours?”
“Dish Night Rule Number One, no talking about work,” Joanna said. “I’ve already warned Kit about that.”
“Is that why you brought her?” Vielle asked. “So I couldn’t ask you about the project? Or about why you’re so interested all of a sudden in a movie neither of us liked? Or why you don’t want to watch it—?” She broke off as Kit came in the kitchen with her cell phone, studying the buttons on it.
“How can you tell if it’s on and not just on standby?” she asked.
Vielle looked at it. “It’s on,” she pronounced. “Did you want to call and check on your uncle?”
“No, that’s okay,” Kit said. “Mrs. Gray has your number. I’m just a little nervous. He gets disoriented sometimes when I’m not there.” She turned to Joanna. “Sorry. I know we’re not supposed to discuss things like that at Dish Night. What are we supposed to discuss?”
“Movies,” Joanna said, “or, rather, movie. I had a little difficulty at Blockbuster. They didn’t have Glory. Or Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” She handed the video to Vielle. “It’s a comedy. With Julia Roberts.”
“Runaway Bride,” Vielle said, reading the box.
“Bride?” Kit echoed.
“Have you already seen it?” Vielle asked.
“No,” Kit said, but in a tone that made Joanna wonder if she had and was lying to protect their feelings. Her cheeks had gone very pink. “I haven’t seen any movies at all the last few years, and I loved Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. And Flatliners.”
“Except that in Flatliners she needlessly risks her life,” Vielle said, looking at Joanna.
“And ends up with Kiefer Sutherland,” Joanna said lightly. “I thought Kevin Bacon was a lot cuter.” She took the video away from Vielle. “This one’s got Richard Gere in it.” She stuck it in the VCR and turned on the TV. “So let’s get this show on the road. Kit doesn’t want to be gone too long,” and the cell phone rang.
Kit dived for it. “Hello?” she said anxiously, and to Joanna and Vielle, “It’s Mrs. Gray.”
“You can take it in the bedroom if you want,” Vielle said, and Kit nodded gratefully. Vielle led her in and shut the door behind her.
“Oh, I hope Mr. Briarley hasn’t gotten so upset she has to go home,” Joanna said. “She was looking forward to this so much.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Vielle said. “You said there was a problem with the session today? Who with?”
“Not me,” Joanna said, and Vielle immediately looked relieved. “And I shouldn’t have said ‘problem.’ Nothing went wrong.” She looked at the bedroom door.
“And what about your sessions?” Vielle asked. “Are you telling me nothing went wrong with them either?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you come racing down to the ER white as a ghost and demand to know whether there’s an engine-stopping scene in Titanic, and then when I find out for you, you’re not even interested, you’re just afraid I might have told somebody. And then Barbara from Peds tells me she saw you in the walkway up on fifth the night before and you looked like you’d just seen a ghost.”
Of course. Good old Gossip General, and this was exactly why she couldn’t tell Vielle. Because there was no such thing as a secret at Mercy General. “Did she also tell you I’d just found out Maisie Nellis had coded again?”
“She told me she was worried about you. I’m worried about you. It’s the project, isn’t it? You’re seeing things in your NDEs. You’re seeing the Titanic, aren’t you?”
No, Joanna thought, apparently not. “No. I’m not seeing the Titanic.”
“Then what are you seeing?”
“I don’t know,” Joanna said. “It’s—”
The door opened, and Kit came out, all smiles. “Mrs. Gray just wanted to call to try the phone out, so I’d know it was working, and to tell me how Uncle Pat was doing.”
“How is he doing?” Joanna asked.
“Not too bad. He keeps looking out the window for me and asking her where I am.”
I would have thought someone so much like Mrs. Troudtheim would have enough sense not to tell her that, Joanna thought. It will only worry her, and it must have shown in her face because Kit said, “If she’d told me everything was fine, I wouldn’t have believed her. I want her to tell me the truth.”
She sounds just like Maisie, Joanna thought, and, as they settled in to watch Runaway Bride, She looks like her, too, with her short blond hair and thin arms and shoulders. But it was more than that. She also had Maisie’s courage, her charm, her earnestness. She watched the movie as attentively as if Mr. Briarley would be giving one of his notorious finals on it.
Joanna, on the other hand, found her mind wandering. If it wasn’t the Titanic, what was it? An amalgam of ships and ship-related images, Richard had said. What ship-related images? She’d grown up in a completely landlocked state. She’d never been on a ship in her life.
She tried to concentrate on the movie. Richard Gere was being introduced to a gaggle of giggling women. “I’m Betty Trout,” one of them said, and Joanna thought, Betty Peterson. She sat next to me in second period. And she had been an A student. She would definitely remember the name of their textbook. She might even remember what it was that Mr. Briarley had said. But it’s not the Titanic, so he isn’t why you’re seeing it.
“It’s not fair,” Vielle said.
“What isn’t?” Joanna said, jolted out of her reverie.