snuggled into his arms, before they both fell asleep. Just before she did, she thought once more of her life in San Francisco, and knew that she wanted to do something more than just have a baby. The baby was wonderful and exciting, but she wanted to do something else too. She hadn't figured out what yet, but she knew that in time she would.
At six o'clock the next morning the steward knocked on their door, to let them know that they were coming into New York. They weren't going to be docking until 10 A.M., but it was customary to enter the harbor very early. After that there were the usual formalities to be handled, and every effort was made not to inconvenience passengers by docking too early. But there was something very special about passing the Statue of Liberty at sunrise, with the golden sunlight streaking across the sky and reflecting off her arm and torch and crown. It was a sight that rarely failed to stir intense feelings, and those who got up early enough to see her always felt a special bond with their country as the ship glided into port. Serena was moved beyond words as they passed the statue lighting her way to a new life.
Even B.J. was strangely silent. The last time he had come home had been only for a brief visit, on a military flight. This time he felt as though he were coming home from the wars at last, with his wife at his side, to the country he loved. It was a feeling of well-being and gratitude that welled up inside him like a sunburst, and he knew no other way to vent it but to take Serena in his arms and hold her tight.
“Welcome home, Serena.”
“Grazie.” She whispered softly to him as they kissed in the soft orange light of the June morning.
“We're going to have a beautiful life here, my darling.” It was a promise that he meant to keep for a lifetime, hers as well as his own.
“I know we will. And our baby too.”
He held her hand tightly, and they stood there for almost an hour, watching New York from the distance, as the ship hovered in the harbor, waiting for immigration officials and tugboats and clearances and red tape and all the rest of the brouhaha that always went with arrivals, but Serena and B.J. were oblivious to it all, they stood on deck, hand in hand, thinking of what lay ahead.
At precisely the same moment Brad's mother sat in her bed on Fifth Avenue, drinking a cup of coffee, her brows knit, her eyes dark, thinking of her oldest son and the woman he was bringing home. If she could have, she would have liked to force Brad to dispose of Serena as quickly as possible, but she had not yet come up with a reasonable suggestion as to how that could be done. She no longer had a hold on any of Brad's money, there was no job he depended on his family for now. In his own way he had flown the coop and now he was hovering above them, doing just what he wanted, in his own way, with this damned Italian tramp he was bringing home.… His mother set down her coffee cup with a clatter, pushed back the covers, and strode out of bed with a determined air.
18
As Serena stepped down the gangplank, walking ahead of Brad, she could feel her heart pound within her. What would they be like? What would they say? In her heart Serena held a glimmer of hope that Mrs. Fullerton—the other Mrs. Fullerton, she smiled to herself—would come around. The pressure of it all weighed on her like a thousand-pound weight as she stepped off the boat in a cream-colored linen suit, with an ivory silk blouse, and her hair done in the familiar figure-eight bun. She looked terribly young and strikingly lovely, and there was something so vulnerable and so fresh about her, like a white rose, standing alone in a crystal vase. One wanted to reach out and touch her, yet no one would have dared. Her white kid gloves were impeccable on her hands as she barely touched the railing, and she looked back once at Brad, and he could read everything in her eyes. He leaned toward her with a word of encouragement as they got closer to land.
“Don't look so worried. They won't attack you, I swear