Three Words for Goodbye Read online

  It was probably wishful thinking.

  “It’s time you both took a vacation,” Violet said. “Time you left America and saw more of the world!” She chuckled at her own enthusiasm. “You’re going first to Paris, then to Venice, and finally, to Vienna. And you’re going together. It’s time you put your differences aside.”

  My mind raced. I knew things were heating up in Germany with the Nazi Party, and I suspected the ripples were being felt throughout Europe. If I was there, among it all, I could take stock of it firsthand, perhaps find some new angle, a gripping story I could submit to the newspapers here. I thought of the stack of articles I’d written and submitted the last three years. Only one had been picked up, placed in a small periodical. But I was determined to keep trying. Maybe this trip to Europe would provide new inspiration.

  As my thoughts raced ahead, Violet reached beneath the chaise and lifted out a notebook filled with newspaper clippings and photographs, one of which stuck out farther than the others. I recognized the woman in the picture at once: Nellie Bly, or Auntie Nellie as we’d known her as children.

  “What’s all this, Violet?” I asked as I flicked through the paperwork.

  “You remember Auntie Nellie,” she replied.

  “Of course. Who could ever forget her!”

  Clara scoffed. “You were so silly the way you always trailed around after her. ‘Tell me that story again, Auntie Nellie. Tell me about that time you went to Mexico.’ I’m surprised she didn’t get weary of you.”

  I ignored my sister’s sniping and looked through the newspaper clippings. I’d admired Nellie from the moment she’d swept into our home in a wave of brusque determination and irrepressible ambition. I hung on to her every word, fascinated by her tales of daring trips, undercover newspaper reporting, and being on the front line of the war. It had been more than a decade since her death, but few women had matched her journalistic achievements. I was determined to follow in her footsteps. I’d worked hard the last three years, trying to do just that.

  “She was a woman without equal,” Violet continued. “It was a real first, you know, a woman traveling alone around the world. Many didn’t believe she would manage it, let alone break the eighty-day record Jules Verne wrote about in his novel.” Violet shifted on the chaise, her sickly body not able to sustain any one position for too long. “Nellie once said, ‘Jules Verne made it all up. I made it really happen!’”

  “She was funny,” I said. “A real straight shooter.”

  “She was,” Violet agreed. “Just like you!” She patted my hand affectionately. “But she was much more than that. She was a complex and complicated woman, as most of us are.”

  The room fell silent. Clara and I both sensed Violet needed a moment to dwell in the past, the way she often did in recent months.

  “Anyway,” she continued eventually. “As I reach the end of my life, there are some things I need to say to three people who are very important to me. A curtain call, if you will. A chance to make my peace. I’d like you both to deliver some letters for me. One in France. One in Italy. And another, the most important of all, in Austria.”

  “Couldn’t you mail the letters?” Clara asked. “It seems like an awfully long way to go to deliver them in person. And they would get there much faster.”

  I blew out a breath of frustration. Clara had a rare ability to drain all the joy out of a situation.

  “Why all the mystery?” I added, ignoring my sister. “Who are these letters to?”

  Violet smiled. “So many questions, girls! First, let me tell you about the planned itinerary. You’ll sail from New York to France on the Queen Mary, visit Paris and its wonderful sights and, of course, the art galleries. From Paris, you’ll take the Orient Express to beautiful Venice, with all its bridges and canals. From Venice, you’ll travel to Vienna to deliver my final letter and then . . .” She paused, dramatically.

  “And then?” I asked, unable to hide a smile.

  “And then, you’ll fly home on a zeppelin. The Hindenburg. The finest airship ever built! It’s not quite circumnavigating the world like dear Nellie did, but you’ll travel far enough, and for long enough, to figure out a few things along the way.”

  The prospect of such luxurious travel and visiting some of the most famous cities in the world was impossible to resist. I thought again of the shifting politics in Europe and the newspaper articles I’d read recently about Austria’s struggle against the new autocratic rule, and Mussolini’s regime in Italy. I’d have a front-row view of it all, unlike the many journalists here in the city. For once, I’d have an advantage.

  Violet shifted on the chaise again as Clara helped her and folded a blanket over her knees. That was when the impossibility of Violet’s plan struck me.

  “But Violet, you aren’t well,” I said. “How can we possibly leave you for months when we don’t know how long you’ve got?”

  Violet smiled, her watery eyes lit from within.

  “Don’t worry about a thing. I will still be here when you return, my darling girls. Really, this is very important to me.” She paused, seeking our gazes before she continued. “Everything will make sense when you get to each location. But I want you to know this isn’t just about making the trip for me, it is also about finding the answers to your own questions: Who you are. What you care about. Where, and with whom, you will be most happy. It will all come together, you’ll see.”

  “Well, it’s tantalizing, but Clara will complain and worry the whole time,” I said, knowing my comment would irritate her. “She’ll take all the fun out of it.”

  “And Madeleine will make a nuisance of herself with others, and get us into trouble,” Clara added. “She never listens or obeys instructions.”

  Violet held up her hand. “Hush, you two! It breaks my heart to see you bicker and argue. There is nothing more important in the world than family.” She leaned back against the cushions, her energy waning as she brushed a long silver strand of hair from her face. “Besides, I already have the tickets. And I want you to promise me that you will travel and lodge together, without exception. It will mean so much to me to have the letters delivered in person, but it will mean even more to have the two of you become friends again, or if not friends, then at least not picking at each other over every little thing.”

  I stood abruptly, moving to the large windowpane overlooking the curve of private beach I’d played on as a child with my favorite person in the world. My sister. I could still feel the wind whipping through my hair, still smell the briny air mingle with the tinge of lavender from Clara’s favorite soap as she bent over a mound of sand with shovel and pail. There was a time we’d gotten along so well. Though we were different, our personalities complemented each other, but as adults, we were as opposite as the sun and moon, Broadway and Park Avenue. All my life, I’d wanted to throttle my sister as often as I’d wanted to embrace her, only the embraces had grown fewer over time until they’d disappeared entirely. Now, we were to travel together for nearly three months? It would be a horror show.

  I turned and met Clara’s stormy eyes.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, what do you think? I seem to remember you usually have all the answers.”

  As colorful images of the Eiffel Tower and the Piazza San Marco filled my mind, and the chance to study the political situation in Europe, up close, became a reality, a smile spread across my face.

  “I think it’s an excellent idea.”

  Violet grinned. “It’s settled, then.”

  “Not quite,” Clara added. “Charles will never agree to it.”

  “Ah, but he already has, dear,” Violet said. “I spoke to him yesterday. He thinks the trip will do you the world of good.”

  For once, Clara was rendered speechless. I was as surprised as she was to learn of Charles’s reaction, and I didn’t trust it, not one bit. Clara’s fiancé was undeniably handsome with his blond hair and striking build, but his overbearing charm grated on my nerves.
He always had a gaggle of self-important people around him that I found tiresome, never mind his questionable business dealings. Despite our differences, I wanted more for my sister. My mistake, along with many others, had been to tell her as much.

  “By the way,” I added, turning back to Violet. “Who are we taking these letters to? You didn’t tell us.”

  “All will become clear along the way.” She turned to face us both. “Trust the journey, girls. Trust each other.”

  When it came to Clara and me, that was far easier said than done.

  Clara

  The unexpected confrontation with Madeleine, and Violet’s outlandish plans for our trip to Europe, had left me rattled. I arrived for dinner with Charles that evening in a fractious mood.

  “It’s a silly idea,” I said as we took our usual table at the yacht club. “I understand Violet’s desire to put things right, but she knows how strained things are between me and Madeleine. And there’s a wedding to organize.”

  “Yes, darling. It all came as a bit of a surprise.”

  He wasn’t really paying attention. He was in a sour mood after a difficult day of business wrangling, something to do with tenements he was trying to purchase in Manhattan, and I knew I was irritating him with my incessant chatter. He studied the menu and signaled to a waiter without looking up.

  “Why did you tell Violet you approved of the idea without discussing it with me first?” I pressed. “Even if I enjoyed Madeleine’s company—which I don’t—the idea of two women traveling through Europe is absurd, not to mention dangerous, particularly at the moment. You were telling me yesterday about the Nazi Party becoming ever more powerful. I don’t know why Violet can’t just mail the letters. I really don’t like the thought of crossing the Atlantic, either. You know how seasick I get.”

  Charles glanced up. “Do you?”

  I didn’t reply. Having often sailed with him on his yacht, I’d have thought he knew this already.

  He ordered for us both and lit a cigarette. I didn’t like him smoking, but hadn’t told him so.

  “The new liners are very safe, darling, and the Queen Mary is the best of the best. I’m actually quite envious I won’t be joining you.” He smiled over the top of his newspaper. “I thought you would enjoy the opportunity to see Europe. You’ve often said you’d like to experience the Orient Express, and you’re not going to spend time in Germany, so I don’t think we need to be concerned about the political unrest there.”

  “You sound as if you’re almost keen to get rid of me.” I circled the rim of my water glass with my fingertip so it hummed.

  Charles folded his newspaper and placed it on the table. “I’m not keen for you to go, darling, I’m simply offering reassurances. Your grandmother put me in a difficult position, talking about her dying wishes and what have you.” Our conversation paused as the waiter returned with a bourbon for Charles and a sidecar for me. I wondered if they had different cocktails in Paris. “Go and have your European adventure,” Charles continued when the waiter left. “When we’re married, we’ll have the rest of our lives to spend together. Morning, noon, and, most importantly, night.” He winked seductively as he drank half his bourbon in one gulp.

  “Charles!” Color rushed to my cheeks. “Stop it.”

  He put down his glass. “The way I see it, you and Madeleine already can’t stand the sight of each other, so it can’t get much worse. You can stay out of each other’s way as much as possible, deliver Violet’s letters, enjoy a little sightseeing, and you’ll be on your way home before you’ve hardly had time to miss me. You might even enjoy yourself. They say Paris is wonderful in the spring.”

  I stared at him, wondering what had come over my fiancé. He made it sound so simple when I’d expected him to dismiss the entire scheme as nonsense.

  I leaned back in my chair and peered out of the window at the narrow strip of midnight blue where the ocean met the horizon. Cotton wool clouds drifted across the sky, nudged along by a brisk wind. Ours was the best table in the restaurant. It offered uninterrupted views of the water but was positioned so that Charles could keep a careful eye on the other patrons coming and going, in case there was someone’s hand he needed to shake. There often was. Charles Hancock was someone everyone wanted to meet.

  We’d fallen in love quickly, too quickly according to my sister. Charles had easily dazzled me with his charm and good looks. His status among the most prominent families in New York had impressed my parents, and while his proposal had come as something of a surprise, my father had already given Charles his permission, and I’d accepted without hesitation. I knew I’d ruffled a few feathers, and that many other society women had hoped Charles would put a ring on their finger, instead of mine. I glanced at the ring now and wondered if I would ever tell him I wasn’t especially fond of sapphires.

  “But there’s still the matter of the wedding,” I said eventually. “I can’t very well organize things from the Queen Mary, can I?”

  Charles reached across the crisp linen tablecloth and took my hand in his. “My mother will be only too happy to step in and help with arrangements while you’re gone.” I resisted the temptation to tell him that was precisely what worried me. “Go and have some fun. You’re so serious recently. It seems silly to throw the opportunity away just because of a little disagreement with your sister.”

  I pulled my hand from his. “Mine and Madeleine’s differences are more than a little disagreement. You know how stubborn she can be.”

  “Yes, I do. She’s damn hard work. Is she still trying to be taken seriously as a writer?” He laughed, a little unkindly. “God loves a trier, I suppose. But listen, darling, since you’ll be spending a lot of time with her, don’t let her bad-mouth me. You know how she loathes me, for no reason at all. She just can’t accept you’ve found someone who treats you as you deserve, rather than deriding you all the time, the way she does.”

  To my surprise, I found myself wanting to defend Madeleine.

  “Well, she has every reason to want to take this trip,” I concluded. “I have every reason not to.”

  “Why not sleep on it? I really do think you should honor Violet’s dying wish. The old dear doesn’t have much time, and these letters seem to be important to her. I could always meet you in Austria at the end of your trip? I have a few business arrangements in the country so it would make sense for me to come. We can travel home together on the Hindenburg and be the envy of all our friends. What do you say to that?”

  He raised his glass to mine, but his attention was caught by the arrival of friends of ours, the Strausses. Charles waved to them, put down his napkin, and stood up.

  “You don’t mind, do you darling. There’s something I need to discuss with Robert.” As usual with Charles, it was a statement, not a question. He didn’t often ask for others’ opinions.

  As he went to join his business colleague at the bar, Lacey Strauss made her way over and sat in the empty chair beside me.

  “Penny for them? You look like you have all the troubles of the world on your shoulders.”

  I smiled. “World is right.”

  Lacey was one of the older wives in the yacht club, and someone I trusted. I was glad of her company.

  “Tell me to mind my own business if it’s something you’d rather not talk about.”

  I didn’t want to talk about it, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about what to do.

  “It’s my grandmother. She’s concocted a plan for me to travel across Europe with my sister. Live a little before I commit to a life of marriage and children. I’m really not sure about it at all.”

  Lacey laughed. “Sounds very sensible to me. You’ll be married a long time, Clara. I’d grab the opportunity with both hands if I were you. What does Charles think about it?”

  “He says I should go. He’s actually quite insistent.”

  I took a long sip of my sidecar and thought about the itinerary Violet had created. She knew exactly how to entice me. I’d al
ways wanted to visit the Louvre and the Gallerie dell’Accademia and the dozens of other European art galleries and museums that held some of the world’s most beautiful masterpieces. Spending time with Madeleine would be worth it to see the Mona Lisa in person.

  Lacey looked at me knowingly. “Well, as your husband, Charles will decide what you can and can’t do, so there’s little point in disagreeing with him.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I replied.

  Lacey leaned a little closer. “Go to Europe, Clara. Have an adventure. Who knows, you might see everything quite differently when you get back. Traveling has a way of doing that to people.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Showing them what it is they really want.”

  Lacey’s words swirled around my mind as the ice in my drink cracked and Charles and Robert Strauss laughed loudly over a shared joke.

  “To adventures,” I said as I raised my glass to hers.

  “To you,” she replied. “Go and have a little fun. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Maddie

  New York

  March 1937

  It took two months of disagreements to figure it all out, but in the end we agreed to go, for Violet’s sake. Her doctor assured us, as best he could, that we could make the trip and still spend time with Violet when we returned, before the inevitable happened.

  Planning began in earnest, though Clara and I couldn’t agree on a single detail. Every time we met to discuss something, we parted under a cloud of dissent and renewed animosity. She said my smoking irritated her, that my casual attitude was all wrong, and my laissez-faire approach would get us lost, or worse. Clara was even duller than I remembered. Had she always been so straitlaced and conservative? Everything she said was peppered with caution and pessimism. Her insistence on following rules and schedules made me break out in hives.

  Eventually, Violet intervened and made most of the decisions for us. She was a stubborn old mule once she set her mind to something. I was a mirror image of her in that way. In fact, I had more in common with Violet than with either of my parents or my sister. It had always bothered me, that sense of being in the wrong family. I’d once asked Mother if she was sure she’d brought the right babies home from the hospital. She’d told me not to be ridiculous. “There isn’t always a shocking story, Madeleine. You’re just . . . different from the rest of us. That’s all.” But she was wrong. There was always a story. You just had to know where to look.