Becoming Mrs. Lewis(19)
“We don’t have the money here,” Bill interrupted, but then softened, moving closer to me and taking my hands. “Joy, we want you to get better, and I know we can’t afford the medical care here. Do what you need to do. If you feel going abroad might help you, then you should do it.”
“Whatever you need to be healthy,” Renee agreed.
“I’m doing this for all of us,” I said. “I can barely stand to think of leaving my boys, but I know they will have both of you. Everything will be better when I return. It’s no different from one of your business trips,” I said to Bill. “Whenever you come back, it’s like you never left.”
Bill kissed the inside of my palm. “We will be fine.” He stood and sauntered off as if we’d just decided to have sloppy joes for dinner.
Renee also stood. She picked up a plastic dog-chew toy shaped like a bone from the floor and threw it into a basket under the coffee table. “We’ll be dandy, cookie. Just fine. You’ve saved us, and I will do the same for you.” She reached for my hand. “You get well so you can return ready for anything.”
“Yes, ready for anything.”
Jack:
Warnie and I look forward to finally meeting our pen-friend. Please keep us apprised of your travel plans. Looking forward.
Joy:
I sail from New York the second week of August and will arrive in Southampton on the 13th. I shall be staying with an old friend in London and will let you know when I arrive and have settled.
During those weeks before I left, my insides felt torn open in places that had felt numb for years, as if the decision itself had awakened the soul inside of me. I told my sons where I was going and what a grand adventure it would be. We made up stories of what England might look like. Davy drew pictures, and Douglas wondered if the forests were denser or greener. No one could count how many times I told them how much I would miss them, how the idea of being gone made me ache for them even as they sat by my side.
“Boys,” I said when I tucked them in a week before my leaving, “I love you so much. As big as the universe.”
“The universe can’t be measured,” Davy said with his new celestial wisdom.
“Exactly,” I said.
“When you come back, will you bring us presents?” Douglas asked.
“Loads of them.”
“Do you think Mr. Lewis will be as nice as the professor in his book?”
“Even nicer,” I said. “I will write to you and tell you everything about him.”
They fell asleep as easily as exhausted children can, and I stood over them, tears running down my face and into the corners of my lips.
When we arrived at the pier of the Hudson River docks that August morning, Bill stood tall and stiff as the dock’s pilings. “Safe travels, Joy.” He offered a weak hug.
I took his hands. “This is a trip for all of us. It will be a return to health, more stable finances, and vitality for our family. You see that, don’t you, Poogle?”
He turned away, and Renee came to me. She held me longer, her hug tighter. She stepped back in her red sundress and wide-brimmed straw hat and smiled. “I will miss you, cookie. Come home safely and quickly.” She kissed my cheek, and I knew there would be a bright-red mark from her lipstick.
A humid breeze carrying the pungent stench of smoke and gasoline washed over us as I held out my arms to my sons. Behind me the grand ocean liner waited, a mountain of a ship I would soon board. “Davy, Douglas. Come to me.”
One son under each arm, I drew them in a tight circle and kissed their faces, every little inch. “I will be home soon. I love you so much.” My voice snagged on the tears clogged in my throat.
“Don’t cry, Mommy.” Douglas patted my cheek. “You can bring us presents from England.”
Davy buried his head in my shoulder and began to cry softly, his glasses falling to the ground. I lifted his face and held his chin in my hand to see his deep brown eyes fixed on mine. “Look at the moon and know that I’ll be looking at it too. We will be under the same stars and the same sky. And it will carry me home. I promise you.”
We clung to each other until Bill announced, “Let’s not make this worse than it is. You must go now.”
With two more kisses on my sons’ cheeks, I watched as Bill took their hands and the foursome walked away toward Bobby and Rosemary, who stood waiting at the end of the sidewalk. It was only Douglas who looked back and waved. I didn’t move one step until they were gone from sight, and then slowly I lifted my eyes to the ocean liner. She held firm to the docks with ropes as thick as trees, and she didn’t move in the choppy waters, although all around her the water swayed, danced, and slapped against her hull. Tall white letters along her smooth ribs declared: SS United States.
Onboard, the wind was warm, and I could almost taste the sweet-salt middle of the ocean, where the heat would dissipate. I stood on the aft deck, my dress flapping like a bird that couldn’t get off the ground, and I stayed there until the Statue of Liberty was as small as a toy in a gift shop, until the last of land faded from view and the vast sea was all that remained.
PART II
ENGLAND
“. . . you can’t keep him; it’s not as if he were a tame lion.”
THE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER, C. S. LEWIS