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Being Mary Ro

Page 24

by Ida Linehan Young


  “Mary, it was selfish of me to ask for your hand in marriage. I shouldn’t have done so until you knew the truth. The news of the fire had come, and I was so worried about my son that I blurted out my proposal without giving you time to consider all the circumstances. I wrote you a hundred letters over the winter explaining the situation but didn’t want to pressure you. I kept them in my desk. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Mary was crying now—crying for the young man who had done the honourable thing at the expense of his own needs and who’d unavoidably hurt them both in the process.

  Peter held her as she cried.

  “Can you forgive me, Mary?” he asked in a hushed tone.

  Mary rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Her nose was running—she was a mess. She reached inside the collar of her dress and pulled out a small silver chain that her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday. She felt along the length of the links until her fingers landed on a soft braided loop, which she held up before him.

  “You kept it all these years?”

  “Yes, I was always hopeful that my love would return to me someday. Peter, I was willing to forgive you for marrying somebody else before I knew why, so I’m more than happy to forgive you now. I only hope that you can do the same for me for thinking the worst. I didn’t believe in you or in our love.”

  “We were young, Mary. I love you and have loved you since the morning you smiled at me in your mother’s kitchen. Nothing has ever changed that.”

  He gently clasped the makeshift ring he’d given her.

  “My house was destroyed. All my belongings were lost last summer, but I dug in the ruins until I found the wedding ring I’d bought in England,” he said, pulling a ring from his shirt pocket. “I got it cleaned up and carried it on me ever since, with the hope of someday putting it on your finger.”

  There was a commotion from below deck, and suddenly Danol, Meg, and Richard charged around the wheelhouse. They stopped abruptly when they saw Peter on one knee with the ring.

  “We heard Mary crying,” Meg said. She’d been peeping from below deck, telling the others what she thought was happening. They’d all stormed up, intending to come to Mary’s rescue.

  Before anyone could speak, they heard shouting from the wharf. “Daddy, Daddy, are you there? Can I come aboard?” A young, dark-haired boy, accompanied by an older lady wearing a big hat and long rose-coloured skirts, stood at the foot of the gangway. Peter looked at Danol, who nodded.

  Peter stood and ran down the gangway and hoisted the lad in his arms. “Of course. We’ve been waiting for you! Mrs. Mallard, are you coming, too?” Peter asked the older lady.

  “Peter, you know better than that. I’m seasick just standing here. Young Harvey told me where you’d gone, and I see you found your lady friend. Go on and be with Mary. Let me know if, or when, you need me.” She turned on her heel and was gone.

  Peter laughed as he watched her disappear into the crowd. She was probably crying. The tough old bird! She had saved Eddy the day of the Great Fire and kept him safe at her daughter’s house until Peter returned. He couldn’t thank her enough for that. She was a grandmother to Eddy and would always be his family.

  Once he’d opened up about Mary after Martha died, she’d been sick of listening to him talk about her. She’d urged him to go to Mary, and when he finally left and came back without her, he thought Mrs. Mallard was going to walk out the door. She told him if he wasn’t gone to John’s Pond by June, she’d go herself and get the girl. Peter had laughed at the thought of it because he knew she probably would.

  He brought Eddy aboard and made the introductions. Danol became quite taken with the boy and showed him around the ship.

  Mary discussed Danol’s proposition for their future as outport doctors. Peter was more than happy to sign on. He’d already decided to leave St. John’s and to make amends to his wife-to-be.

  Meg shouted to Danol, who was still below with the boy. “Let’s get this ship out to sea. There’s a wedding to perform.”

  Danol came on deck with Eddy, and within the hour the crew of eight, including the captain, had returned from a brief stint on shore. The captain gave commands to untie and set sail. Danol put the captain’s hat on Eddy and told the boy he was now the master of the ship. Eddy was hooked.

  “How soon before we can get married, Captain?” Meg asked again. “Mary and Peter, you’re nominated as witnesses,” she called out to them.

  They both laughed. Peter answered with a question of his own. “Would it be too much for you to have two weddings today?”

  Mary gasped aloud with delight. “We’ve been waiting a lifetime,” she said.

  Epilogue

  “Mary Ro, come quickly!” Richard gulped for air. “Meg’s in labour and is asking for you. Dr. Peter, she doesn’t want you to come. She asked specifically for Dr. Mary.”

  Mary eyed Peter and Danol. “Can we wait?”

  Danol and Peter both looked at each other and nodded before turning to Mary, answering “yes” simultaneously.

  She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath in anticipation of their response. She’d thought she was going to miss the birth by a week or more, but everything had worked out.

  Danol laughed. “We can leave later tomorrow. Today the medical need is here. I’ll come for you around the same time, and I’ll leave the boat docked in John’s Pond tonight.” Danol had built a big house on the south side of North Harbour. Good thing, too, because his life had changed in ways he’d never expected. He’d walk home once the boat was secure.

  Mary was delighted to hear they could stay. She quickly fastened her wool coat.

  “Petie, you go to your Uncle Brian’s house and tell Carla about the change in plans.” Her son raced out the door before she had a chance to tell him to be good.

  Richard was flushed and still breathing hard. The poor man was frightened to death for Meg, even though it was her fourth child. Mary was sure that everything would go well. She now had years of maternity experience. Meg was healthy and strong and, aside from the three-inch scar on her stomach, she had no ill effects of the stabbing. She and Richard had had three beautiful boys, and they were hoping for a girl with the fourth.

  As Mary quickly left, following Richard, she called back to Peter, “Don’t forget to give little Petie a scrubbing when he gets back from Brian and Carla’s house. He’ll be good and dirty after playing in the mud.”

  “Don’t worry, Doc Mary. You go tend to your patient, and I’ll look after things here. Danol will help me if I get in trouble.”

  “I’ll have nothing to do with my godchild. Peter’s on his own,” Danol said. “Besides, I have enough to keep me busy at home.”

  “I’ll make sure he gets it right,” laughed Eddy. He was growing into such a fine young man.

  Peter smiled, knowing that Danol would do anything for him, his wife, and children no matter what. Catherine Rose had him wrapped around her little finger, and she was only two. Danol was especially protective of Mary, and Peter was fine with that connection once he’d accepted that Danol was no threat to his relationship with his wife.

  Mary loved when Peter called her “Doc Mary.” It was their special endearment for when things were about to get busy. She was a full-fledged doctor now, thanks to the support of her husband and his tutelage. Today—well, tomorrow now—they were scheduled to leave on the Angel Endeavours for medical visits around St. Mary’s Bay and north to the islands and communities in Placentia Bay.

  Now in their seventh year of making the trip, this voyage would be special because Petie could go with them. For approximately a month, little Catherine Rose would stay with her Uncle Brian and Aunt Carla. Danol had offered to watch Petie in each port, allowing Mary and Peter time to treat patients in the little communities peppered throughout the bays. Eddy, although busy learning the ropes from Danol’s crew, woul
d help with his little cousin whenever he could.

  Eddy was going to be a sailor, Peter and Mary knew that. He’d followed Danol like a puppy for the last number of years, and now, at sixteen, Eddy would crew with Danol on this sailing, as well as a few merchant runs, before they all returned in the fall. Mary had loved the boy from the moment she laid eyes on him. He was Peter’s son in every way but one, and that one didn’t count when love prevailed.

  Recalling their first medical trip with Peter, folks weren’t too sure about a lady doctor—especially one in training. Mary was quite nervous, but she’d proven herself and won them over, community by community, as she doctored alongside her husband. Peter often told her that he was proud of her accomplishments. Knowing, yet not fully understanding, how much she had struggled to be more than “Mary Ro,” he often teased that “Mary Ro” was all he could manage.

  Mary strived for excellence to confirm her worthiness of the trust placed, sometimes reluctantly, in her skills. It was difficult to be accepted as a female doctor, but “her Peter” had a great reputation and helped transition Mary into the work. She was not naive to the situation and chose to follow Peter’s lead, her love for the profession and her husband guiding her heart and her hands. In turn, Peter recognized Mary’s skills in women’s health and was more than happy to learn a thing or two from her.

  After spending four summers on the Angel Endeavours as an apprentice and her winters and springs in hospitals throughout Boston, Mary received her degree from Boston University. It was a funny sight when Mrs. Ange came barrelling in the lane waving a brown envelope, shouting to Mary and Peter, “It’s here!”

  “I guess we’ll have to call you Dr. Mary after this,” she’d said and hugged Mary tightly while swiping at the tears welling in her eyes. The old woman was tough but had a heart of gold.

  Peter completely supported her. He was such a good man, and she was so lucky he had come back to her. She recognized that working hard to make an independent name for herself would be an endless journey and, after having Petie, finally reconciled with the fact that she was good enough—being Mary Ro was still all right, and not only in John’s Pond. That realization was another epiphany of sorts—it wasn’t the name she wanted more out of; it was her life. When she stopped fighting the limitations she had in her head of being Mary Ro, she opened up to possibilities of so much more. Happiness happened when she allowed it.

  Mary stopped at Mrs. Ange’s to tell Edith Weeks they would be leaving a day later than planned. Edith, from Bay Bulls, was interested in becoming a doctor, too, and was about to spend her first summer on their schooner. She planned to attend the combined Trinity-Toronto universities in the fall but wanted to accompany Peter and Mary to see if doctoring was for her.

  Mary and Richard arrived at Richard’s door before long, and Mary went in to help the midwife. Meg was doing well, and by mid-morning Mary laid a beautiful baby girl in Meg’s arms. Richard was so happy with the news that he almost fainted, though inquiring first about Meg to make sure she was fine.

  Those two were so in love. They still bantered back and forth, and sometimes you’d think they couldn’t stand each other, but the look they had for one another was that of deep love. Mary hoped they would have many more children to bless their union.

  When they were alone, Meg looked at Mary and said, “You saved my father. I’ll never forget that.” She paused as a post-birth contraction wracked her body. “Remember the day we had to go to Colinet together?”

  “Yes,” said Mary, smiling at her friend. “Indeed I do. I had doubts about you.”

  Meg touched her scar and looked at Mary.

  “It was because of me you were in that situation, Meg.”

  “That’s not your regret to carry, Mary Ro. I chose to be with you that day. Thank you, Mary, for being my friend, and I hope you won’t mind if I ask you to be the godmother for our child.”

  “Oh, Meg, I’d be honoured. But I know you have family and Richard has sisters that you might want to consider.”

  “Richard and I already talked about it, and we both want you. Our first girl was always going to be you.”

  Mary felt overcome with emotion. Meg had grown to be an amazing and trusted friend.

  “Well, then, I’d be honoured to be the baby’s godmother. You know that I’m leaving tomorrow and won’t be back for maybe two months?”

  “Yes, I know that. We can wait until the July visit from the priest to christen her.”

  Mary lovingly touched the baby’s head. Her first godchild and her amazing friend! “Do you have a name for her yet?”

  Meg said, “We do!”

  She raised her voice, calling to her husband, “Richard, can you come in again, please?”

  Richard came immediately to her bedside, looked lovingly at his wife, and gently took his new daughter from her mother.

  “Meet Mary Elizabeth Theresa Dalton.” Meg had a glow about her as she spoke.

  Mary’s eyes filled with tears. She looked from the baby to Meg and Richard.

  “Oh, Meg, are you sure?”

  Meg held out her arms, and Mary instantly hugged her friend.

  “Of course, Mary. I want her to grow up and be just like you. How better to do that than to have your name?” Meg stated matter-of-factly.

  Mary squeezed Meg hard and mouthed a silent thank you. If she uttered a word, she’d cry. Understanding, Meg embraced her again.

  When Mary returned home, she bragged to her husband and Danol about how she had a baby named after her. They were both delighted.

  “Tomorrow we sail,” said Danol.

  “Tomorrow we sail,” said Peter and Mary in unison.

  In the morning, Drs. Peter and Mary Nolan would embark on a new journey to visit the distant outports and tend to the sick. Life was a splendid adventure. Mary stepped outside later that evening for a breath of fresh air as Danol and Peter regaled one another with tall tales of the sea. The community was quiet now. “Not many lights on down the Pond,” she whispered contentedly to herself.

  How many years had she unconsciously fought this place, only to find it wasn’t the boundaries of the sea, the ridge, and the treeline that held her captive? She’d been in the shadows of happiness for so long—desolate, swallowed by isolation, yet somehow comfortable. Her feet had been solidly planted in the crushing bog of insecurities and complacency: an observer without connection, communal inclusion out of bounds until she was willing to take that first step. Although it was a lonely existence, the grip of the mire was somehow safe, holding the hurt close yet at bay, her equilibrium tolerable. If she didn’t move, she wouldn’t sink further, but without shifting, she couldn’t escape. Finally, unrestrained from the fear of change, taking a chance, she birthed into the life she was meant to live. She was still Mary Ro on the outside and at peace with that.

  A flickering trail of light in the cloudless sky caught her attention. The tail end of a shooting star transported her back to a wish made many summers before. If she recalled correctly, it was something like a magical and life-changing experience. That had certainly come true.

  Tonight, pondering the opportunity before her, with nothing she wanted or needed, she merely said, “Thank you.”

  She almost jumped out of her skin when Peter spoke behind her.

  “Who are you talking to, my love?” he asked, kissing her red curly locks.

  “Just the heavens,” she answered. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “Maybe I will,” she teased.

  Mary smiled mischievously as her adoring husband wrapped his arm around her, leading her into the house. The tendency to tire more easily and the fluctuating emotions indicated it was time to reveal her secret: their family would be a bit bigger come New Year. Peter would be delighted!

  And Edith Weeks would go on to achieve her medical degree and graduated
with high honours in 1907. She treated female patients at the Queen Victoria Wing of the Old General Hospital and opened her own practice in St. John’s. Although Mary Nolan had received her degree ten years prior to Edith’s graduation, Edith held the distinction of being the first female medical doctor in Newfoundland because of her affiliation with a hospital. Mary had no connection to any licensed hospital; instead, she chose to put her talents to use alongside her husband. Edith attributed her love of women’s medicine to her friend and mentor, Dr. Mary Nolan.

  Because this was Mary’s home—her beacon rather than her prison. She had set herself free and never looked back, and never regretted the transformative journey to being the real Mary Ro—a force to be reckoned with.

  About the Author

  First and foremost, Ida Linehan Young is a mother to three adult children, Sharon, Stacey and Shawna, and a grandmother to the most extraordinary little boy, Parker. By day she works in the information technology sector in the federal government and has recently forayed into learning the French language in the hopes of becoming bilingual. She started writing several years ago and published her memoir, No Turning Back: Surviving the Linehan Family Tragedy, in 2014. Influenced by her love of local history and the familial art of storytelling passed down by her father and her maternal grandfather, she escapes to writing any chance she can get. She enjoys writing historical fiction to keep the past alive for generations to come.

  Facebook, Twitter: @idalinehanyoung.

 

 

 


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