Tag: Brynne

May 17, 1914

Belfast – Dunallon

2:45 a.m.

Tom had a nightmare tonight, one so disturbing that he couldn’t go back to sleep. I have to admit that when he told me the dream, it left me with chills.

---

“Tom?” When Tom had awakened and left their bedroom in the middle of the night, Brynne followed him. She’d found him in Evie’s room. He stood over the sleeping infant’s crib, gazing down at her.

Hearing his name pulled him from his adoration of his daughter. He looked toward the open doorway of nursery and found Brynne.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said quietly. “Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” Brynne said. “But it’s okay.” She stepped into the study and joined Tom at the crib. She reached in and softly stroked Evie’s face with her finger. “What’s wrong?” she whispered to Tom. “You can’t sleep?”

“I had a nightmare,” was his soft reply.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. It must have been one hell of a bad dream if it shook him up so badly that he couldn’t sleep, she thought.

He looked at her. “You sure you want to hear it?” he asked. “It was very disturbing, to say the least.”

Brynne took his hands and led him from the nursery. When they’d returned to their bedroom, they sat on a the loveseat across from their bed. “Tell me about it,” she said.

Tom sighed. “We were on the Titanic,” he began. “And the ship hit an iceberg, just as in real life. But this time, things were different. There were no ships in range to come to our rescue in time. We put passengers off in the boats, but it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t have been. There were only 20 boats onboard, and not even all of those went away at capacity. I made you go away in one of them.”

“There were hundreds, perhaps even a thousand, left on the ship, and I was one of them.” Tom paused and swallowed hard. ” A lot of people jumped into the frigid water before the ship went down, and I remember tossing deck chairs and anything else that could be used as a life raft or preserver overboard. I knew deep down, though, that they would likely freeze to death before help finally arrived.”

He leaned back into the couch, sighing heavily as he rubbed his hands down his face. “I don’t think I even tried to save myself, even though a few people tried to persuade me to make a go for it. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though, not when so many others were suffering because of me. It was because of my design flaws, my failures.

“The last thing I remember was standing in the smoking room, in front of the fireplace, just staring at the painting hanging above the mantle. Then, I woke up.”

Tom looked at Brynne. “It all felt so real. Not at all like a dream. Everything was so fresh and vivid.”

Brynne’s expression was one of shock and horror, and Tom regretted his decision to tell her about his dream. “I told you it was disturbing,” he said.

Brynne simply stared at Tom. If her expression was one of shock and horror, it was because that’s what she was feeling at the moment. Tom had just described what had happened to Titanic in the original timeline, including his alternate fate.

Was it a coincidence? Was it fate? Was it the result of some cosmic, temporal phenomenon?

Brynne didn’t have an answer for any of those questions. But she did have one more question – should she tell Tom the truth about herself? Was this a sign that she should tell him that she was from the future, that his dream was more than that and that it had actually occurred in some alternate reality?

Telling Tom the truth was an idea she’d flirted with on occasion before, but she could never bring herself to do it because she couldn’t find the benefit it doing so. Sure, she would have the comfort of knowing that someone else knew the truth about her, but how would Tom react to that knowledge? There really was no telling. He might think she were crazy or joking. Or he might believe her – and the truth might be too much for him to bear.

Brynne swallowed. “That’s some dream,” she said. “The real thing was bad enough, but thank the good Lord it didn’t turn out the way it did in your dream.”

“I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if it had,” Tom said.

August 5, 1913

Belfast

Harland and Wolff

2:29 p.m.

I hate showing weakness in front of all the men here at the firm, but I can only do what my body will let me. I knew being pregnant would take a toll on my body, but I didn’t know it would happen this early along.

Being able to see her work come to life before her eyes was one of the things Brynne loved about being a ship designer. Everyday, she could look out her office window and see the ship inch closer to completion. It became even more evident on days like today, when she was able to actually board the Britannic and see some of the results of her work first-hand. Many days, she was simply too busy to go out to the ship. Today was different. Today, she’d been able to accompany Tom as he made an inspection of the ship to check progress.

Brynne peered over the side of the ship from her vantage point on the Promenade deck. It was just a quick peek, and it shouldn’t have affected her negatively. But it did. A few nanoseconds after she looked down over the side of the Britannic, the world began to spin. Nausea followed, washing over her. She felt she was being rocked by rough waves, even though she knew it was impossible, as the ship was still in dry dock. She tried to take a step away from the railing, but her knees buckled and darkness closed in around her.

Tom, standing beside Brynne, had turned just in time to see the beginning of her fall. Only his quick reflexes prevented her from hitting the deck. He caught her in his arms.

“Brynne!” He carefully lowered her to the ground. “Brynne?” Her face was pale, and she was unconscious, but she was mildly responsive.

Brynne woke up staring at a ceiling. She turned her head slightly to get a better look at her surroundings. She was in Tom’s office, lying on his sofa.

“Tom?” she said.

Tom walked over to the sofa and sat alongside Brynne. “Here I am,” he said softly. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “How do you feel?”

“Like an idiot,” Brynne said. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was looking over the side of the ship, the next I was completely dizzy.”

There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” Tom called out. The office door opened, and a receptionist stepped inside.

“Dr. Callahan here to see you, sir,” the young man announced. He stepped to the side to allow the doctor entry into the room.

“Tom, Brynne,” the doctor greeted.

Tom looked at the receptionist. “Thank you, James,” he said, dismissing the young man. James left, closing the door behind him.

Tom turned his attention to the Callahan. “Doctor, thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“It’s no trouble,” Callahan said. “No trouble at all. What seems to be the problem here?” He walked over to the sofa. Andrews rose so that Callahan could examine her.

“She fainted this morning while we were onboard the Britannic,” Tom said. Callahan took Tom’s place beside Brynne on the sofa. He began to take her vitals.

“I started feeling dizzy all of a sudden,” Brynne said.

Callahan was silent as he continued taking her vitals. “Your pulse is a little weak.” He felt her face with his hands to see if her body temperature was elevated. “Have you had any other symptoms today? Nausea? Headaches?”

“I remember feeling nauseous right before I passed out,” Brynne said, “but I felt fine before then, which is why I don’t understand it. I’ve never had vertigo before. I don’t understand why I reacted this way.”

“Pregnancy can affect a woman’s body in many unexpected ways,” Callahan offered. “This is one of them. It’s also been very warm today, which probably didn’t help.”

“Is it all right to take her home, Doctor?” Tom asked.

“Oh, yes, by all means. Get her home and into bed. Make sure she gets plenty of rest for the remainder of today and all of tomorrow. Plenty of fluids and bed rest. You must learn to be easier on yourself and your body, Brynne. You must remember your delicate condition.”

Callahan rose from the sofa, and Tom took a few steps toward him. “So, she’s all right?” Tom asked. “The baby, too?”

“As far as I can tell, everything is still progressing nicely. She just needs more rest.”

Tom nodded, relieved. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“I’ll drop by the house later on tonight to check on you again, Brynne,” Callahan said.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Brynne said, echoing her husband.

Callahan left the office, leaving Tom to rejoin Brynne on the sofa. “Brynne, you know that I’ve never wanted to be one of those husbands who order their wives around, but I must put my foot down about this – you can’t go back onboard the Britannic before the baby is born. In fact, it would probably be a good idea if you stayed away from the outside areas of the yard all together. It’s too dangerous.”

Brynne wanted to argue … but she knew he was right. “I know,” she said, nodding. The reality was that it was still early in her pregnancy, and she didn’t know what other changes were in store for her. If unpredictable fainting spells were going to be a continued possibility, along with who knows what else, the last place she needed to be was somewhere potentially dangerous, like a ship still under heavy construction.

But Tom wasn’t finished, yet. “I also think we should take Dr. Callahan’s advice about getting more rest,” he said. “Maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time here at the firm.” Brynne looked up at him with questioning eyes. “Not that you should stop working, but maybe you should cut down on the number of hours you spend here. Perhaps work here at the office for half a day, then maybe work at home for the rest.”

“I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad,” Brynne said. “I have been tiring more easily lately.” She managed a small smile. It was easy for her to forget that she was carrying a child sometimes. In a few more months, though, it was going to become much more difficult to overlook.

July 3, 1913

2:26 p.m.

Belfast, Ireland

Dunallon

I’m pregnant.

I had a feeling this would happen eventually. As … active … as Tom and I have been with each other, and with birth control the way it is nowadays, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. We haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other. But that’s as it should be between a husband and wife. There was even this one time at the office … but I probably shouldn’t go into all that.

Tom doesn’t know, yet. All he knows is that I haven’t been feeling well for the past few weeks. I saw the doctor last week, and he confirmed it. I’m planning to tell Tom this evening, and I’m petrified. I never planned this. I’ve never had any experience with children. This situation would be difficult enough in my own time; having to go through it in this time, and in my particular situation, is especially daunting. I know Tom will be ecstatic, and I would be, too … if I weren’t so scared.

---

Brynne closed her journal and placed it between the covers of a portfolio. The work day was nearly over, and she had grown more nervous with every minute that brought 5 p.m. closer. Today was the day she would tell Tom about her condition. She dreaded doing it because saying it aloud to someone else would serve as another signal that this was really happening, as if morning sickness hadn’t already accomplished that. She was going to be somebody’s mother.

Andrews, donning his hat and coat, appeared in the open doorway of Brynne’s office. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Brynne sighed heavily, an attempt at a calming, cleansing breath. “I am now,” she said rising from her desk.

“Are you alright?” Andrews asked, eyeing her with concern as she gathered her things and placed her hat on her head. “Are you still feeling unwell?”

Brynne looked up at him and managed a smile, but the feeling that something was amiss remained with Andrews.

“I’m fine,” Brynne said. “I just have a lot to think about.”

Andrews nodded. He knew that something was wrong, but now he was sure he knew what it was. “We are going to have a remarkable holiday once we’re all done with this ship,” he said. “We’ll go wherever you want and stay as long as you want.” Holding a briefcase and a roll of deck plans on his left, he wrapped his free arm around Brynne’s waist. “And it will be a real holiday, not a working trip. There’ll be no deck plans, no meetings, no Ismay. It’ll be just the two of us, free to go off on whatever adventure we choose. How does that sound?”

“It sounds marvelous,” Brynne said, “but it’s still a long way off.”

“Well, if you want to take some time off sooner rather than later, you know it won’t be a problem. I can always make arrangements if you want to take a break.”

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I can tell you’re exhausted. I’d much rather you take a break than burn-out. You’re too good of an architect for us to lose you permanently.”

“I’m just tired from the day’s activities. It’s been a long day. I’ll be rejuvenated by tomorrow.” She kissed him and added, “I promise,” before kissing him again. “Can we please go now? I’m starving, and I’m going to waste away to nothing if we stand here talking all night.”

---

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” Brynne told Andrews as they reached the end of dinner that night. She knew that she had his undivided attention, which didn’t make what she had to do any easier.

“Is it something very serious?” Andrews asked, concern lining his words.

“Yes,” Brynne replied. She added, “but it isn’t bad … I don’t think it is, at least.” She’d gone over how she would begin this conversation a thousand times in her mind. Still, she didn’t feel at all prepared.

Brynne tried to get her thoughts together. How should she say this? What words would a proper lady use of this period use? Unfortunately, her COSI training had failed to cover this particular situation.

“Please don’t keep me in suspense, darling,” Andrews urged. “What is it?”

“I’m pregnant,” Brynne said. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Of course it caught Andrews completely by surprise, which Brynne had expected. But when he didn’t say anything for a long moment, she began to think that maybe she’d jumped the gun in assuming that he would be happy about the news.

“Brynne,” Andrews said, “are you sure?”

“I saw the doctor last week,” Brynne said. “The day I wasn’t feeling well and stayed home from the office, I called Doctor Callahan. He came to the house and confirmed what I’d been suspecting.”

“How long have you suspected it?” Andrews asked.

“A few weeks. But I had to make sure before I told you. Doctor Callahan says I’m about 6 weeks along.” Brynne viewed each of Andrews’s successive questions as evidence that her husband was significantly less than pleased with the developing situation. And why should it be otherwise? This had to be some of the worst timing ever to have a baby. TheBritannic was set to be launched in February, and there was still so much to do before then.

“This is amazing…” Andrews said. To Brynne’s surprise, he rose and walked from his seat to hers. He kneeled, and honed in on Brynne’s waist. “My God, Brynne – there’s a person in here, our child.”

“Are you upset?” Brynne asked, still unclear as to how he was receiving the news.

“Upset? No, I’m the farthest thing from it.” Beaming, he raised his eyes to Brynne’s. “It’s a shock, without a question, but it’s a good one, like you said. Good is an understatement – it’s fantastic!”

He stood. “There are so many preparations to make,” Andrews said, beginning to pace as his mind raced. “We have to set up a nursery, we need to hire a nurse. There’s so much to do.”

“You’re not disappointed in the least?” Brynne asked. “This is rotten timing, you know. If we remain on schedule, the Britannic’s fitting out should be due to begin around the same time that this baby arrives.”

Andrews stopped moving and turned to her. “We’re going to have a baby, and you’re worried about the Britannic? That should be the least of your concerns now.”

“I know, but we do have to consider it at least,” Brynne said. “We can’t just drop everything at the firm. There’s still so much to be done before the launch.”

“Don’t worry about the firm,” Andrews said. “I’ll take care of things there.”

“Do you think we’ll need someone to fill in for me for a little while after the baby gets here?” Brynne asked.

“We’ll need someone as soon as possible,” Andrews replied. “I’ll start making the arrangements tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Brynne stood. “I was thinking more along the lines of January, at the earliest. It isn’t as if this baby will be here anytime soon.”

Andrews gently caressed her arms and hands. “Brynne, I know you want to see the Britannic all the way through to the finish, but you’re in a delicate condition. You don’t need to risk your health, or the baby’s, by being stressed out over work.”

“I’m not stressed out over work,” Brynne insisted. “If I’ve been troubled about anything, it’s telling you this news. I see now that I had good reason to worry.” She gently pulled her hands from his grip.

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?” Andrews asked.

“Look at what you’re saying.”

“What? What am I saying that’s so bad?”

“You want me to quit now? To just leave my career at the drop of a hat?”

“It happens all the time, Brynne. This is what working women do. They leave the working world when they have children. Truth be told, most leave when they marry.” As soon as that last sentence left his mouth, he immediately regretted saying it.

Shocked, angered, and a little hurt that he would throw a statement like that at her, Brynne turned and walked toward the dining room door. “Right after we got married, you told me that you didn’t have an issue with me working,” she said walking. “Did you mean what you said then?”

Andrews followed her. “Of course I did.”

Brynne stopped at the dining room entrance and turned to Andrews. “Then, you just felt the need to throw that little tidbit in about women leaving the workforce when they marry? Why? Some part of you must wish that I had done the same.”

“Brynne-” Andrews began.

She didn’t give him a chance to complete his thought. “So, I suppose you didn’t mean it when you said earlier that I was too good of an architect to lose.”

“I meant it,” Andrews said. “I meant every word.”

“Then why is it an issue that I want to continue working?” Brynne pressed.

“You know why it’s an issue. Can’t you see that things are different now?”

“How? I’m perfectly capable of working until the baby arrives,” she insisted sharply. “I was perfectly capable this morning, before you knew, and I’ll be perfectly capable tomorrow. Informing you of my condition does nothing to change it.”

“Brynne, the work is not important, you are. We can get someone else to do the work. What you need to focus on is staying healthy. Surely, you weren’t expecting to work right up to the delivery?”

“Maybe not right up to the day, but certainly for the next few months at least. I don’t see any reason why it should make a difference.”

“You’re in no condition to work,” Andrews countered.

“I’m not just going to give up my work, Tom. I’ve been working on Britannic for over a year. You can’t just expect me to abandon it.”

“That’s exactly what I expect,” he said, stepping past her into the foyer.

Brynne didn’t turn around to face Andrews, who was now behind her in the foyer. She didn’t move at all. She just said, quietly, “I’m not quitting.”

Andrews looked at Brynne, who still hadn’t turned to face him. She couldn’t see his utter bewilderment at why she would blatantly choose to put her career above the potential well being of their child. She also couldn’t see the pained anger he felt, but she could hear it in his voice.

“You’re going to be a mother, Brynne,” Andrews said. “You must start thinking and acting like one.” He left the foyer for his study, and Brynne didn’t follow him. He’d barely raised his voice above a conversational level, but Brynne knew he was angry. She understood his perspective, but she couldn’t let this go. His logic in this situation was uncharacteristically ridiculous. She had a good five or six additional months of work left in her.

Brynne finally turned around and faced the space where Andrews had stood only a few moments earlier. At last the huge generational differences between her and Andrews had come to light. She understood that he was a product of his time and she of hers, but that didn’t make accepting the mores of 1913 any easier. Unfortunately, if she wanted to keep the peace with her husband, and she did, it looked like she was going to have to go along with it, regardless of her own desires.