Pia blanched. Why was she being hostile? Surely the Hudsons wouldn’t appreciate her acting that way. She took a deep breath and gathered a small measure of courage. “He won’t believe you,” she said.
“Are you sure?” Nurse Wallis said. “I heard you tried to escape St. Vincent’s several times. And Sister Ernestine didn’t have one good thing to say about you. Have you even told Mrs. Hudson about your missing brothers?”
A hot flush of fear and frustration crawled up Pia’s neck. She couldn’t risk the nurse talking to Mrs. Hudson about Ollie and Max. Mrs. Hudson might wonder what else she was hiding, especially after the incident with Leo. Dr. Hudson and his wife were some of the nicest people she’d ever met, but they’d never understand what she’d done to her brothers, especially so soon after losing their baby boy. Maybe she would tell them someday, but not now.
With the heavy weight of resentment like a boulder on her chest, she reluctantly showed Nurse Wallis the way to the kitchen, then went up to the playroom to get Mrs. Hudson. After explaining the situation and apologizing numerous times, she was relieved to hear Mrs. Hudson say it wasn’t her fault, that she was upset with her husband for sending for the nurse, not with her. After Mrs. Hudson told the older girls to stay in the playroom, then put Elizabeth, who had fallen asleep in her arms, in the nursery, she and Pia went back downstairs.
When they entered the kitchen, Nurse Wallis was at the table, pouring hot water into two teacups. She set the teakettle down on a hot mat and smiled at Mrs. Hudson, her hands clasped at her waist.
“May I help you?” Mrs. Hudson said, her voice curt.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Nurse Wallis said. “But your daughter said you were getting ready to have tea and I thought I’d help out. May I join you?”
Pia frowned. Why was Nurse Wallis acting like she didn’t know who she was? Maybe she was the one who needed a mental evaluation.
“My daughter?” Mrs. Hudson said. Then she realized who the nurse meant and she ran a hand along the back of Pia’s arm, surprising her and making her stiffen at the same time. “Oh, this isn’t my daughter, she’s...” Mrs. Hudson hesitated and regarded the nurse with wary eyes. “I’m sorry. Who are you again? Pia said my husband sent for you, but he didn’t tell me you were coming. I’m sure he would have told me something that important.”
Nurse Wallis gave her a smile that was both kind and condescending. “Forgive me, Mrs. Hudson, but that was a little white lie. I knew Pia wouldn’t let me see you otherwise.”
Pia gaped at the nurse, anger flushing her cheeks.
Mrs. Hudson’s face went dark. “What’s this all about, then?” she said. “What are you doing in my house?”
“First, let me say how very sorry I am about your son, Leonard,” Nurse Wallis said. “One of my nurse friends read about his passing in the newspaper and told me about it. Such a tragedy. She says your husband is a wonderful doctor and she thought I should stop by because I—”
“You work at the hospital?” Mrs. Hudson said. Fear edged her voice.
Nurse Wallis shook her head. “No, I’m a visiting nurse. I visit people in their homes when they’re sick.”
Mrs. Hudson gasped and took a step back.
“Oh no,” Nurse Wallis said. “There’s no need to worry. I promise I haven’t been around a new flu case in weeks. And I’d never take the chance of bringing sickness into your home when you’ve already lost so much. I was only hoping I’d be able to talk to you. To offer my sincere condolences about your boy, and to help you get through this difficult time.”
“No one can help me,” Mrs. Hudson said. “Especially someone I don’t know. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave.”
Nurse Wallis came around the table, a sympathetic look on her face. “You’re right, you don’t know me, but I’ve helped many women get through the death of a child, and I know what you’re feeling. I know you’ve suffered a tremendous loss and have a hard time thinking clearly right now. I know you’re in the deepest, darkest pit of despair you ever imagined. And I know your heart is shattered. Most of all, I know you’re not sure you can keep living with such unspeakable pain.”
Tears flooded Mrs. Hudson’s eyes and her face twisted in anger. “How could you possibly know what I’m feeling?” she said. “You don’t know anything about me. And you certainly don’t know anything about my son.”
“I know because I’ve been where you are,” Nurse Wallis said. “I lost my baby boy too, when he was only four months old.”
Pia drew in a sharp breath. She had no idea.
“I know what it’s like to feel so heartbroken and alone you think you’ll go mad,” Nurse Wallis continued. “Like no one else will ever understand the devastation you feel. I know what it’s like to want to die, and if you go on living, to wonder how you’ll ever eat or laugh or smile again. But I also know you have other children to live for, which is something I didn’t have. You owe it to them to get through this, Mrs. Hudson. Just think what would happen to them if they lost you too, how awful it would be for them to have that much tragedy in their lives. They need you to stay strong.”
Mrs. Hudson pressed her trembling fingers over her mouth, stumbled over to the table, and sat down, shoulders convulsing. Nurse Wallis laid a comforting hand on her arm, and Mrs. Hudson reached over and squeezed it hard, her fingers turning red, as if the nurse were a lifeline in a storm. Pia gritted her teeth and blinked back tears. She wasn’t a mother yet, but she knew the horrible, heavy heartache of grief; the jagged, aching hole in your chest that could never be fixed. Losing a child had to be a thousand times worse. And seeing Mrs. Hudson break down again made her think of her own mother, who would have been equally shattered to lose one of her children. To think she could be responsible for that kind of pain was almost too much for Pia to endure.
“I’ll go check on the girls and give you some privacy,” she said. Before anyone could protest, she slipped out of the kitchen.
Maybe Nurse Wallis was right. Maybe Mrs. Hudson needed to talk to another grieving mother. It couldn’t hurt and might even help. When she reached the end of the hall, playful voices and soft giggles floated down the stairway. The girls were on the top steps, starting to come down. Pia hurried them back up again, with promises to play hide-and-seek. The last thing they needed was to see their mother fall apart again.
The next afternoon, Nurse Wallis came by to talk to Mrs. Hudson again while Pia kept the girls occupied upstairs. Following routine, she put Elizabeth in the nursery for her nap at two o’clock, then went down to the pantry to get Sophie and Margaret an afternoon snack of plum pudding or fruit farina. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she overheard the women’s voices drifting out of the parlor and down the empty hall. Mutti always said it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help straining to hear, one hand on her stomach, ready to run if someone came out of the room. She listened partly because she was worried Nurse Wallis might tell Mrs. Hudson about Ollie and Max, and partly because she hoped the nurse would say something to help ease her own grief. No one, not the nuns at St. Vincent’s or sweet Sister Agnes, had ever talked to her about losing her family. No one had ever tried helping her through her heartache and sorrow. Sometimes the depth of her misery frightened her, and she worried she really might lose her mind.
“I’ll never be the same,” Mrs. Hudson said, sniffing. “My heart will be broken forever. Sometimes I feel so desperate I want to die just so I see his face again.”
“I understand,” Nurse Wallis said. “Truly I do. I felt the same way. The only thing that helped me carry on was helping women like you, and helping orphans find new families.”
“I commend you for helping orphans. But I’m not sure I could do that without bringing them all home with me.”
Nurse Wallis chuckled. “Oh, trust me, there have been a number of times I’ve wanted to do just that. The conditions in the orphanages are dreadful. They’re dirty and overcrowded, and some of the people in charge really don�
��t care about the children at all. Sometimes I wonder if God took my son to lead me to my true calling, helping those in need, especially children. I know that sounds strange, horrible even, but there’s something about putting myself aside and seeing the gratefulness in their eyes that’s makes life worthwhile.”
“Well, if that’s the way He works,” Mrs. Hudson said, “He’s not the God I thought He was.”
Pia had to agree with Mrs. Hudson. If God loved everyone so much, why would He purposely cause them so much pain? She wanted to listen longer, but Sophie was in the upstairs hall, calling her name. She grabbed the snacks and hurried back up the steps, moving as quickly and quietly as possible.
By the third day, it seemed as though Nurse Wallis’s visits were actually helping Mrs. Hudson. She started combing her hair again and took over the cooking. Pia didn’t think the nurse had said anything about her or her brothers yet, and she hoped it would stay that way. Still, she kept thinking about telling Mrs. Hudson the truth before Nurse Wallis could. And now that Mrs. Hudson had a relationship of sorts with the nurse, maybe she could talk her into really looking for Ollie and Max. Maybe Dr. Hudson could help and, between the two of them, they could find out something, anything to lead her in the right direction. But it was too soon after Leo’s passing to say anything. And she always lost her nerve at the last minute anyway.
On the nurse’s fourth visit, Pia noticed her medical bag sitting outside the parlor. Why did she always bring it if she was just there to talk? Made of black leather, it had a metal clasp and worn handle, and a thin book, like a ledger, stuck out of a side pocket. Pia’s heartbeat picked up speed. Maybe it was a list of nuns and orphanages in the city. Maybe it was something that would help her find her brothers. She edged closer to get a better look.
In the parlor, a spoon clinked against the sides of a china cup as someone stirred their tea. Pia held her breath to listen, making sure no one was about to come out into the hall.
“I’m sorry, but we’re all out of lemons,” Mrs. Hudson said.
“This is fine,” Nurse Wallis said. “Thank you.”
Pia moved closer to the bag, then bent over and slowly eased the ledger out of the side pocket. The ledger was made of leather too, but newer than the bag, and it was bound shut with a large rubber band. When she pulled it all the way out, three ten-dollar bills slipped out from behind it and floated to the floor. More bills hung halfway out of the pocket. She swore under her breath, clamped the ledger under her arm, knelt down, and, with trembling hands, quickly picked up the bills and shoved them back in the pocket. When she started to straighten, the ledger slipped from under her arm and hit the floor with a loud slap.
“What was that?” Nurse Wallis said.
“I have no idea,” Mrs. Hudson said.
Chairs creaked and footsteps clacked across the parlor floor.
Pia grabbed the ledger, shoved it back in the bag, and sprinted down the hall on her tiptoes. When she reached the kitchen, she stood out of sight, breathing hard.
“Pia?” Mrs. Hudson called out.
Pia bit down on her lip, not sure what to do. If she didn’t answer they might come into the kitchen and wonder why she was hiding. She edged toward the pantry, then went back to the door, and looked out. “Yes, ma’am?” she said, trying to sound casual. Nurse Wallis stood beside Mrs. Hudson in the hall, her hands on her hips.
“Oh, it’s just you,” Mrs. Hudson said. “We heard a noise and didn’t know what it was.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was getting the girls’ snack and I dropped something.” She hoped Mrs. Hudson wouldn’t ask what.
“Is everything all right?” Mrs. Hudson said.
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”
Mrs. Hudson turned to Nurse Wallis. “It’s nothing,” she said. “Let’s finish our tea, shall we?”
Before following Mrs. Hudson back into the parlor, Nurse Wallis glanced down at her bag and frowned. It was only then that Pia noticed the ledger was nearly falling out of the pocket and a ten-dollar bill still lay on the floor. Nurse Hudson reached down to pick up the money, pushed the ledger back in the pocket, and lifted the bag, suspicious eyes locked on Pia the entire time.
Pia forced a smile, then turned to go back to the pantry, a hot flush of fear crawling up her neck. If Nurse Wallis thought she’d gotten into her bag, there was no telling what she might do. It would be her word against Pia’s if she said something was missing. But what was a nurse doing with all that money, anyway?
The next day, she came downstairs to get the girls’ snacks and heard something that made her stop in her tracks.
A baby crying.
She tiptoed down the hall and stood outside the parlor door, listening. The cries sounded like those of an infant, maybe even a newborn. Why would Nurse Wallis bring a baby into the house? Was she trying to torture poor Mrs. Hudson?
“No,” Mrs. Hudson said, her voice trembling. “I can’t do it.”
“Of course you can,” Nurse Wallis said. “It will be the best medicine for both of you. And it’ll help you stop thinking so much about Leo.”
“I don’t want to stop thinking about Leo,” Mrs. Hudson cried. “I don’t ever want to stop thinking about him.”
Pia clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to march into the parlor and stand up for Mrs. Hudson. Of course she didn’t want to stop thinking about her lost son, no more than Pia wanted to stop thinking about her mother and father and brothers. Not to mention it was impossible. How could Nurse Wallis say such a thing?
“Oh no,” Nurse Wallis said. “Please forgive me. That’s not what I meant. Of course you don’t want to stop thinking about Leo. And you won’t. Ever. It’s just that you and this baby need each other, that’s all. What better way to honor your son’s memory than helping a destitute child? If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. God works in mysterious ways, Mrs. Hudson.”
Pia gasped, cupping a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t believe what Nurse Wallis was asking Mrs. Hudson to do, especially so soon after Leo passed.
“Please,” Mrs. Hudson said. “Just take him and go.”
“All right,” Nurse Wallis said. “But if you turn him away I’m not sure what will happen to him. I can check the orphanages to see if they have room, but there’s so much sickness and neglect in those places it wouldn’t be the ideal choice for any baby. I’ve seen it firsthand and it’s truly inconceivable. And he’s so young, I don’t know how well he’d fare—”
“But he has a mother,” Mrs. Hudson said. “Perhaps she’ll get better and—”
“If that were the case I wouldn’t have brought him here,” Nurse Wallis said. “His mother was sent to the lunatic asylum last night. The doctor said it’s very likely she’ll spend the rest of her days there.”
“But he... he must have other family,” Mrs. Hudson said. “An aunt or grandmother to take him in.”
“If he does, I have no way of locating them. His mother was out of her mind when they found her, and she doesn’t speak English.”
The baby’s cries grew weaker, as if he were getting tired.
“Oh God,” Mrs. Hudson said. “I can’t bear it. The poor dear.” The sofa creaked and her shoes clicked on the parlor floorboards, back and forth, back and forth. “Well, there must be something else we can do besides... besides . . .”
Listening to the baby whimper, Pia’s eyes filled. It was all she could do not to go in there and take him, to find out what was wrong and comfort him as best she could.
“If there was something else I could do,” Nurse Wallis said, “I would have done it already. I understand how hard this is for you, Mrs. Hudson. I truly do.”
“I’m not sure you do. Otherwise you never would have brought him here. Even if I wanted to take him in, Dr. Hudson would never allow it.”
“You might be surprised what a man will allow if it makes his wife whole again.”
Mrs. Hudson’s footsteps stopped. “No, I won’t do it,” she said. “It wouldn’t
be right. Leo has only been gone a little over a week. My arms still ache for him. My heart screams for him. It’s... it’s too soon.”
“Well, then do you have any leftover formula in the house?” Nurse Wallis said.
“No, I... I nursed my son. My husband and I believe a mother should suckle her children. I know it’s considered old-fashioned by many, but—”
“Take him,” Nurse Wallis said. “Just for a few minutes.”
“No, I can’t. I just can’t.” Mrs. Hudson’s footsteps resumed pacing, then stopped again. “Can’t you find a wet nurse for him?”
“I could, but they’re either immigrants or colored. And wet nurses cost money. Who would pay for it? Besides, this poor boy needs to be fed now.”
Mrs. Hudson started to say something else, but the baby started crying in earnest again, the loud, high-pitched wail of a hungry newborn.
“Please, Mrs. Hudson,” Nurse Wallis said. “I’m not sure when he ate last.”
Pia could barely stand listening to the baby carry on, each cry a little louder and more desperate than the one before, each wail and intake of breath more frantic. She thought she might scream if they didn’t do something for him soon. Maybe she should go find a bottle to fill with water, anything to ease the poor child’s hunger. Were they just going to let him shriek? And if Nurse Wallis really cared about the baby, what difference did it make if the wet nurse was an immigrant or colored? She said his mother couldn’t speak English, so she must have been an immigrant too. It didn’t make sense. Finally, after what felt like forever, little by little, the baby calmed down. He made several muffled, nuzzling sounds, then went quiet.
Pia let out a long, silent breath. Nurse Wallis must have had a bottle of formula with her all along. So why had it taken her so long to give it to him? Had she been trying to pressure Mrs. Hudson into taking the boy by letting him cry and playing on her emotions? Anger swirled in Pia’s stomach. The more time she spent around Nurse Wallis, the more her distrust grew. She started to turn away and retreat down the hall, relieved at least that the baby was being fed.
The Orphan Collector Page 31