June 1902
Comstock had, to their relief, accepted Rosalind's story about an overload of power during an electrical storm and urged them to fix the contraption without delay. He was preoccupied at any rate with his negotiations with the United States and had little time to spare.
The day after their argument, she had been the one to clean up the bits of glass and scraps of metal, remove all of the parts that needed replacing, and walk a list over to the woman who did her custom work for her. Robert had been reading in the other room and watching out of a corner of his eye, and though several times he heard her draw breath to speak she said nothing. The experience had drained her, though, and she had taken to reading in another room where she could not see the contraption.
Their silence with each other lasted weeks. At first, it had been natural, as their anger had not cooled, and it was the way, Robert recalled, that their parents had ended their fights.
As much as they wanted to stand on their dignity, though, if it had been happening to anyone else, it would have been funny. They made attempts to coordinate their work on the siphon through notes that were often not found and illegible when they were. At night, they had each slept on the couch for several days, but it was not a comfortable piece of furniture in its best hour and, backs aching, they had settled for rolling to the extreme opposite sides of the bed. Once in a great while one of them would cook something, but they had mainly settled for having food delivered whenever one of them thought of it, but only for the person who was ordering.
He was relieved when they had managed to start speaking again, and even more so that Rosalind had been the one to apologize.
They were getting ready for bed last night when she brought him a list she had prepared, and a fat envelope of money.
She walks up to him, tentative and shy in a way that he does not recognize in her, and speaks.
It has been so long, it reminds him of the first time he had heard her through the tear. Her precise, elegant voice is like a blow to the chest.
"Robert."
He looks at her, shirt in hand, waiting to see what she has to say.
"Shirley has the parts ready. I would ask you the favor of picking them up from her tomorrow, if you would be so kind. Here is the order list and her payment."
"It will take us at least a week, I estimate, to install and run tests. Then, if you still wish, you can return to your world."
She continues. "I love you, more than anything. But I can't keep you here against your will. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have destroyed the contraption."
A smile glimmers across his lips. "I think that hurt you more than it hurt me."
Her eyes soften. "Yes. I feel like throwing up every time I look at it. It's like there's been a corpse in the living room."
He hangs his shirt in the closet, takes off his trousers and socks, and lays down in bed, relaxing into the pillows. He watches Rosalind as she disrobes, the layers coming off to reveal her pale, freckled body in its light chemise. She notices him watching her and smiles.
"I'm worried about you, going back to your world, though. You have probably been declared dead there. Your sudden reappearance may cause more problems than it solves," she says. She approaches the bed, and he beckons her next to him, tucking her in under the sheet with him. He shifts so that she has her head on his shoulder in the old way.
"Rosalind," he says. "What I would have told you if we were speaking to one another is that I will stay. You need me, whether you admit it or not."
She looks at him, nods once, and puts her head back down.
"Elizabeth needs me. I may not be able to go see her any more, but I've seen from our work on the siphon so far that if we do not speak up for her, no one will. Comstock thinks she's a sacrificial lamb and Fink thinks she's a cash cow. We can keep working to find ways to make it easy for her, even if she doesn't know it's us."
"Yes. We can do that. I will help. I'm…I…I don't deserve this, Robert."
"Then it's a mercy that we so rarely get what we deserve."
She reaches out to kiss him, her lips soft on his, then her hand on the side of his face.