LITMIR.BIZ

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jackets. Sometimes the wind comes up unexpectedly. I had a close friend die on that lake in a summer storm because he wasn’t wearing one.”

      “I promise.”

      “How are the grandparents?”

      “Fine. I’m going outside in a minute to help them weed.”

      “I’m sure they’ll appreciate your hard work and the company. I’ll phone again tonight after they’re back from their nightly walk and talk to all of you.”

      “Okay. A bientot.”

      “Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Pearsoll.” Natalie Marsden dragged her duffel bag from the trunk.

      “You’re welcome!”

      “Phone me later, Nat,” Kendra Pearsoll called from the window.

      “I will.”

      Natalie ran up the walk to the porch of her grandparents’ Georgian styled house and let herself in the front door with the key.

      “Nana?” she called out. “I’m home.” She hurried through the interior to the kitchen. Her grandmother had left a message on the fridge with one of the magnets Natalie had given her for her birthday.

      She dropped her bag, then poured herself a glass of milk. While she drained it she read the note her grandmother left.

      Natalie, I’m next door at Mrs. Bleylock’s, looking at her newest little grandson. I guess your hockey practice took longer than usual. Come on over and see how cute he is. Love, Nana.

      She grabbed an apple and started for the front door. If she didn’t hurry, her mom would be by to pick her up before she could get a peek at the new baby.

      She was halfway through the dining room when she heard the phone ring. It was probably her mom who’d left work and was letting her know she was on her way to pick her up. She retraced her steps to the kitchen and lifted the receiver.

      “Hello?” she said, a trifle out of breath.

      “Hello. Is this the Marsden residence?”

      Whoever the boy was on the other end of the phone, he sounded foreign.

      “Yes. Who’s this?”

      “My name is Alain. I’m looking for Rachel Marsden.”

      “That’s my mom.”

      “Oh. Is she there?”

      “No. Are you sure you have the right number?”

      “Did your mother once go to school in Geneva, Switzerland?”

      Natalie blinked. “Yes.”

      “Did she ever sail on the QE2?”

      The mention of the ship gave Natalie butterflies on her insides. “Yes.”

      “Then she’s the one.”

      Her hand absently fingered the end of her long, dark brown ponytail. “How do you know about my mom?”

      “By accident I found out she was on the same ship as my uncle.”

      Natalie held her breath. “What was his name?”

      “Tris Monbrisson.”

      Natalie tried to stop the gasp that came out of her mouth, but she was too late. Her eyes suddenly stung with tears. She felt like she was going to suffocate from pain…and excitement.

      Wiping the moisture from her cheeks she said, “If your uncle wants to talk to her, why doesn’t he call her himself?”

      “I’m the one who wants to talk to her. He doesn’t know I’m phoning.”

      Natalie’s breath caught. “Why do you want to speak to her?”

      “I need to tell her the reason why she never heard from him after they reached Switzerland.”

      Natalie’s heart pounded so hard, she felt sick. “That was a long time ago. I don’t think my mom would even remember him.”

      “If she married your father, then I guess my uncle was right.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “He said she would have forgotten him the minute she got off the ship. I’ll hang up now.”

      “No—wait!” she cried out. Dry mouthed she said, “What were you going to tell my mom? I want to hear.”

      “At my uncle’s hockey camp, he got struck on the head by a hockey stick and went into a coma.”

      “A coma—”

      “You know. Where you sleep and never wake up?”

      “I know what it means.” Fear shot through her. “I-is he okay now?”

      “Yes. But when he woke up a month after his accident, he couldn’t remember anything.”

      “You mean he had amnesia?”

      “Yes. There are six weeks of his life wiped out of his mind. He never remembered playing hockey in Canada, or his trip back to Switzerland. Those memories are gone forever.”

      “You’re kidding—”

      “It’s the truth. You can call the Belle-Vue Hospital in Lausanne. That’s where bad head injury patients are taken. My uncle was there for a month!

      “Ever since then he’s been troubled because he doesn’t remember anything about that time on the ship. Sometimes he worries so much, he gets bad headaches.

      “I was thinking that if your mother called him to tell him about what happened while they were on board together, it would make him feel a lot better.”

      “How did you learn she was on the ship with him?”

      “I was looking in an old backpack in his closet and found a note she wrote him on the ship’s stationary. She put her address in Switzerland at the bottom. The school secretary said she came from New Hampshire. That’s how I got this phone number.”

      “Oh my gosh— Listen Alain— Give me your number. I’ll tell my mom you want to talk to her.”

      “Okay. Here are two numbers. Are you ready?”

      “Yes.” She’d reached for the pad and pencil her grandmother kept on the kitchen counter.

      He gave her the information. While Natalie wrote down the digits, she could hear her mom honking out in front.

      “I’ll be at the second number for two weeks starting tomorrow. Then I’ll be back at this one.”

      “Okay.”

      “Tell her to call me at this exact same time.”

      “I will. Now I have to go. Goodbye, Alain.”

      “Goodbye.”

      She hung up and called her grandma at Bleylock’s to tell her she was going home with her mom. Then she hurried out to the car where her mom was waiting.

      “Hi, honey!”

      “Hi, Mom.” Natalie leaned across the front seat to kiss her cheek.

      “Before I left the office, Steve called,” her mother said, reversing to the street. “He’s taking us out to dinner tonight at the Brazilian Grill, so we’re going to have to hurry to be ready on time. Friday nights mean a long line. If we’re there early, there’ll be time for a movie after.”

      “I don’t want to go.”

      Her mother flashed her an anxious glance. “You look a little flushed. What’s wrong, honey? Don’t you feel well?”

      “My stomach’s kind of upset.” It was the truth.

      “Well I’m not leaving you if you’re

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