On a Cold Dark Sea(53)

After dinner, Agneta and her daughter cleared the table, and Agneta shooed Anna away from the kitchen. No need to help, she said, and why didn’t she join Josef in the sitting room? Tomas had already excused himself, saying he’d read upstairs after he got the boys to bed. Clearly, there was a family conspiracy to give Anna and Josef some time alone.

That night, Anna told Josef what had happened on the ship—as much as she felt able. She tried to make it sound as if Emil and Sonja had died painlessly, and if her evasions covered up her own guilt, that wasn’t her primary purpose. They were hit by pieces of the ship, Anna told him. It was quick; they didn’t suffer. Once the first lie was uttered, it was easier to tell the others that grew from it.

Anna didn’t say anything about the man she’d seen from the lifeboat.

She knew words were inadequate next to the depth of her remorse, but she tried. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save them.”

Josef, his elbows on his knees, brought his face closer to Anna’s. “You saved yourself, and I thank God for that.”

It was enthralling, to be the focus of Josef’s attention.

“About Sonja,” Josef began, and Anna braced herself. Jealousy was a sin, and she must act like the sister Josef thought her to be. “I know she was your friend,” Josef said. “It’s terrible that she died. But I haven’t been able to mourn her. I feel sad, of course, when I think of her, but we hardly knew each other.” Josef gave Anna an embarrassed half smile. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this—it sounds so cruel.”

He trusts me, Anna thought with a faint but passionate hope. I must prove myself worthy.

“I understand,” Anna said. “There’s no fault in speaking honestly.”

“Emil, though . . .” Josef let the name linger, a specter in the darkened room. “Ever since I came to America, I’d been planning to bring him over. As I was plowing the fields or building the house, I thought of how he’d be here, one day, working alongside me. Perhaps we’d go into business together, make something of ourselves. What will I do without him? I still can’t believe he’s really gone.”

“I know,” Anna said faintly. All she could think of was Emil’s face, rigid with cold. Or was it horror? That face would follow her for the rest of her life.

“I don’t envy your suffering,” Josef said. “But you were there when it happened. It’s real, for you, in a way it isn’t for me. I keep thinking Emil and Sonja are back in Sweden, and your papa will share news of them in his next letter. In my mind, they’re still alive.”

Anna never would have expected Josef to harbor such wistful fantasies. He had always been so practical, accepting his life as it was rather than mooning over how it could be different. Then she remembered the way he used to look at her when she examined a cobweb’s intricate patterns. He’d never made fun of her or chided her for daydreaming. Perhaps Josef had a richer imagination than she’d supposed, for he was one of the few people who didn’t consider her thoughtfulness a flaw.

“I’m grateful you came,” Josef said. “It helps to know what happened.”

And now her duty was done. What next? Anna’s apprehension must have shown despite her purposefully blank expression, because Josef smiled at her.

“Do you want to stay? In America?”

That question, at least, had an easy answer. “Yes. I was told Agneta had arranged a job, as a housecleaner.”

“We’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Josef’s face relaxed as he sat back in his chair. “Good. I’m glad.”

“I’ll have to see about lodgings . . .”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Agneta and Tomas will be happy to have you, for as long as you like. We are as good as family, aren’t we?”

So Mrs. Norling had been right. Josef thought of Anna as a younger sister. Which meant she would never be anything else.

“Do you know, it’s made me feel better, talking about Emil,” Josef said. “Like he’s here with us.”

To Anna, it was horrible to think of Emil’s restless spirit clinging to her, refusing to be set free. But if talking about his brother gave Josef even a minute of happiness, then Anna would do it. She would join Josef in reminiscences of Emil as he used to be, when they were boys back in Sweden. She would help him escape to a time when everyone he loved was alive—his parents and Sonja and Emil—and the berries were ripe and the harvest was in and there was enough to eat for everyone. That was the Emil Anna must choose to remember. Not the Emil who’d wanted to marry her, or the one who’d called out from the sea.

The next morning, Agneta told Anna the job was still hers if she wanted it, but there was no rush to start. Anna was welcome to stay at the farm as their guest for a few days first. Anna helped with the children and the cooking and fed the chickens and other livestock. In the late afternoons, she went to Josef’s barn and watched him feed and groom the horses. The familiarity of the routine seemed to lull Josef into a confessional mood, and Anna nodded admiringly as he talked of his plans for the house and the new farming methods he hoped to try out. He spread out his life before Anna like a jeweler lays out his wares, hoping she’d be dazzled.

Anna didn’t know why her approval gave him particular pleasure, but he seemed to crave it. For every quiet compliment she gave—“I like the red you chose for the shutters”—Josef grinned and tilted his head in a way that was meant to deflect her praise even as he savored it. It required no deception on Anna’s part; she was genuinely astonished by what he’d achieved in only a few years. He was already well on his way to running his own farm, and in the winter, he’d earn good money doing carpentry in town. Josef had always been a hard worker, and here in America, he was rewarded for it.