“Ye could see all that in me eyes? Maybe ye should be the doctor.” Owen laughed.
“I’m serious,” she said, her spindly fingers pressing into his face.
“Alright Ma, I believe ye.”
“Ye’re the butterfly, Owen. Ye’re the candle by which all others will light their own. Ye’re the flower to the bees and lamp to the moth. All of this and more, ye are. I’m so proud to be yer Ma,” she whispered, releasing his chin and once again taking his arm.
* * *
By the time graduation came in the spring of 1847, Owen was still much younger than his classmates but more wise and mature than most of them. The morning of his commencement, he barely ate and chose tea and a biscuit over the ham and eggs Rachel had prepared.
“Ye must eat somethin’,” she implored him and then, she suddenly lost her breath and began to cough a deep, thick raspy cough.
“Ma, are ye alright?” Owen asked, rushing to her.
“Oh it’s nothin’ son, just a nasty cold I’ve been battlin’ for a few weeks.”
“Ye’ll come down ta the hospital later please?”
“A course I will. I mean, I’ll be right there anyway. Now please, eat somethin’ before ye run off?”
“I’m just too nervous, Ma. I’ve got ta run. I’ll see ye there.” He gathered his things and bolted out the door. He was barely gone five minutes when a knock came.
“Owen? Is that ye? Did ye forget yer key?” she shouted as she rushed to the door and opened it. There standing on her doorstep was Victor and Raina with a swaddled, chubby baby in her arms. Rachel was beside herself with joy and wrapped her arms around them all at once and welcomed them in.
“Hello, Mrs. Vhelan!” Raina said, entering the parlor. “Zis is my husband, Victor Engel. I am now Mrs. Engel and zis is Heidi, our daughter.”
Rachel was overcome with emotion as she reached for the beautiful, fair-haired child. “May I?” she asked.
“Please do, but she is a big girl.” Raina laughed with her wide smile. Rachel was so comforted, a tear rolled down her face and onto Heidi’s white blanket.
“Ve wanted to say sank you to zee angel who helped us,” Victor said, removing his hat and bowing to Rachel.
“Just seeing ye together is more thanks than ye could ever say. Would ye like some breakfast?” Rachel asked. “I made all this food for Owen. He claimed he was too nervous to eat.”
“O’en is here?” Raina inquired, looking about.
“Oh no, ye just missed him. He is graduatin’ from medical school today.” Rachel smiled and bounced the fussy baby in her arms.
“How vonderful! He did it!” Raina exclaimed.
Victor spoke very little English, so Raina translated for him and he cheered and clapped. They sat together, talked and ate for an hour before Rachel explained it was nearly time to go but she insisted they join her for Owen’s commencement. “Please come with me. I don’t want ta sit there alone with Kathryn.”
“Mrs. Doyle vill be zere?” Raina’s eyes flashed wide as if she’d seen a ghost.
“I take it ye don’t want to see her?”
“It isn’t zat I do not vish to see her but I cannot allow my family to know vere ve are. Ve are schtill in fear zey vill try to hurt Victor. Now ve have Heidi and ve cannot take zee risk.”
Raina took Heidi from Rachel’s arms and soothed her until she fell completely silent.
“Ve are sorry,” Victor said.
“I understand. There’s no need to apologize.”
“Please give O'en our lofe and sanks and congratulations,” Raina said, wrapping Heidi back up in her blanket.
“Of course I will, dear. I will explain it to him and I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Rachel walked them to the door and they stepped out into the crisp spring air. She embraced all three one last time before her cab arrived to take her to the graduation. The fulfillment of seeing them together would not allow the smile to leave her face until the smile of pride, watching Owen receive his degree, replaced it.
She barely acknowledged the fact that Dell accompanied Kathryn, when she found them in the auditorium and sat down beside her. However, she did acknowledge the familiar odor of whiskey coming from his direction.
Chapter Twenty-Five
By the following spring, Owen had been working at the Pennsylvania hospital for nearly a year and was making a substantial enough salary to search for a larger home. He consulted with several of his colleagues and by a stroke of odd luck, his old friend Vernon took a nasty fall during a Sunday afternoon ride and was brought in to the hospital for a suspected broken collar bone. As Owen predicted three years before, he hadn’t laid eyes on Vernon since before his last Christmas break of high school.
“Owen? Look at you!” Vernon moaned, lying flat on his back as he was wheeled into the sterile white exam room on a gurney.
“Indeed, it’s me, Vern. I’d ask how ye been but it appears not so well,” Owen replied, assessing Vernon’s badly bruised clavicle.
“Whoa, buddy! Got anything for the pain?”
Owen motioned to the attending nurse and leaned over Vernon again. “In a few minutes, ye’ll be relaxin’ comfortably.”
“Can I trust you, Doctor? I mean, you’re not still sore at me, are you?” Vernon chuckled and then groaned in pain.
“I can barely recall what ye mean, and aye, ye can trust me. Remember who yer speakin’ to now. Ye know I’m the kinda guy who’ll fix ye up first and then take ye on in one piece. I’d never take advantage of an injured fella.”
Once Vernon was peacefully resting, Owen tended to his shoulder which was so badly bruised, he’d certainly be unable to ride for at least a month. When Owen looked in on Vernon before he headed home, their conversation flowed as if they’d never shared a single harsh word. Before long, Vernon invited Owen to join his men’s’ club as well as setting a dinner engagement with Vernon’s family.
“I don’t have time fer clubs. I’m not much fer sittin’ around talkin’ business. So how is the bankin’ business these days?”
“Business is booming! We have more ships coming and going than ever. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of trying another profession already?” Vernon joked and then reached to steady his injured shoulder as he laughed.
“There ye go, tryin’ ta stir a pot. No, no, I’m where I’m meant ta be. I was just inquirin’, is all.”
“Well genius, if you ever get tired of clumsy rich bachelors falling off horses, you know who to see.”
“Bachelor still? No one special yet?”
“Plth! I’ve resolved to make my fortune first, and then I’ll have my pick of any litter!” Vernon joked again.
“As if ye’ve ever not had yer pick, ye scoundrel.”
“How’s that sweet mother of yours…and the rest?”
“Ma is frail but fine and the rest, well, I see me aunt on occasion and she appears fit as ever.”
“So are you still living here, in the city?”
“Aye, but I’m lookin’ ta relocate. We’re still in the little shack me ma bought way back when I started school and…”
“You must be pulling my leg! Would you believe me if I told you the house right down the street from me just went up for sale? I could help you with the cash if you needed it. I’d give you the lowest interest rate around, too!”
“Well, I’ve saved a good bit a money but I’ll keep that in mind if it’s out of me reach.”
“A fine doctor such as yourself should be living in style. This place is a gem. It’s furnished well, too. You’d barely need a tea pot. So when are you planning to set me free? I could have the caretaker let you take a look around, if you like.”
“Ye’ll be fine to go home in the mornin’; no ridin’ for a month but ye can go back to work by Thursday.”
“That will certainly not do. If I’m free to go in the morning, I’ll take the day and back in the office by Tuesday. No lying in bed for this chap!”
“That’s yer choice. I
’m just advisin’ ye as yer physician to take it easy. Since ye know where ta find me, don’t forget about the house.” Owen checked his watch and tucked it back in his pocket.
“Time to go?”
“It’s nearly eight o’clock. I’m already an hour late fer dinner. Not that me ma will be shocked by that.” Owen smiled “Ye get yer rest now, Vernon. It was great to visit with ye and I look forward to that dinner engagement. It’s been far too long.”
“Look for something from me in a day or two. Hopefully we can drag you away from this place for a few hours!”
Owen rushed home and found his mother fast asleep. He was a bit suspicious as soon as he entered the house, having not smelled something delicious in the air. He also found it quite unusual as she always waited up for him to return, no matter the hour. She’d been nursing what he believed to be a common cold for over a week with her tried and true homemade remedies and he believed she was worn out from the virus. He stepped quietly into her room and placed a light kiss on her forehead but his lips were searing against the heat that rose to meet them.
Immediately, he put his hand on her head and snatched her tiny wrist with the other, looking for her pulse. Her skin was so thin and her veins so weak, he searched her neck for easier access to a heartbeat. Her pulse was faint. He rushed downstairs, grabbed his medical bag and pulled his stethoscope from within it as he took the stairs two at a time. Within seconds, he was at her side, listening to her heart and lungs. She was breathing slowly but he didn’t like the sound of her chest and attempted to rouse her.
“Ma? Wake up and speak ta me, Ma,” Owen said as he wiped her brow with a cool, wet cloth.
Rachel forced open her eyes, and as she brought him into focus, her delicate hand rose and cradled his face.
“Ma, ye should have come to the hospital. What are ye thinkin’ lyin’ here like this fer God knows how long?”
“I wasn’t feelin’ well so I laid down for a bit. What’s the hour, son?” She spoke in a whisper.
“It’s nearly eight thirty. What time did ye lie down?”
“My goodness. I’ve been asleep since four o’clock. Let me get yer dinner,” she slurred, trying in futility to raise her head.
“I’m takin’ ye to hospital. Somethin’ is horribly wrong and we need to get ye there immediately.” Owen scooped her into his arms and carried her downstairs. He rushed out to the street and waved down the first cab he saw, begging its occupants to vacate the cab due to the emergency. Once he settled Rachel in the cab they were off.
“Doctor Whelan,” the attending nurse told him a few hours later. “Her fever is severe and we’re doing everything we can. Please, take a seat.” She turned down the light next to Rachel’s bed. “Here, take this pillow and blanket and lie down in the next bed.”
The entire night he held his vigil, bathing her forehead in cool water and assisting with the venesection. He was at first set completely against it due to her already fragile state but lacking any other option, he consented to the procedure. He would not however allow them more than twenty four ounces of blood, fearing she barely had twice that to spare.
“Owen, may I speak with you in the hall?” said his friend and mentor Dr. Forrester.
Owen, emotionally exhausted and groggy, stood and followed Dr. Forrester out of the room.
“Have you had any signs of a fever or congestion?” Forrester queried.
“Me? No. I’ve been as fit as a man can be. Why are ye askin’?” Owen paced in front of the door to his ma’s room.
Dr. Forrester made a few notes on his pad, and then looked over his spectacles at Owen. “Can you tell me who your mother’s friends are and who she keeps company with?”
“Friends? She stays home all day and only visits with me aunt on Saturdays. Doctor Forrester, I’m tryin’ to be patient with ye but…”
“Owen, she may have the wasting disease. She has all the signs. She’s been coming here for weeks to see me. I know this is difficult for you…”
“Comin’ to see ye?” Owen glared at his friend. Before him stood a man he respected above all others. Thoughts of Rachel dragging herself to and from the hospital for weeks while keeping such a thing from him nearly made his head explode. He fell back against the wall and took a deep breath.
“She didn’t want to worry you. She knew you were under a great deal of pressure to succeed and she threatened to refuse any treatment if I questioned her on her activities or disclosed her visits to you. I couldn’t break the oath. I hope you understand.” Dr. Forrester placed his hand on Owen’s shoulder.
“Ye’re certain, then?” Owen ran his hand through his unruly hair and reached into his pocket for the handkerchief that wasn’t there.
Forrester only nodded and handed Owen his own.
“I don’t understand. This is a contagious disease. How could she have come inta contact with this?”
“How could you know what she’s been doing? You’ve been spending nearly twelve hours a day for the past four years either at your studies or here with your patients. Do not blame yourself Owen, please. She’s obviously had to have come into contact with someone who has the disease. I suggest you find a good sanatorium for her. We’ll do everything we can to help.”
“No. Absolutely not, I’ll not be shuttin’ her away alone somewhere. I’ll take care of her meself. Thank ye Charles. I know ye did what was right and what ye had ta do.” He walked back into his ma’s room and quietly closed the door. By early morning, Rachel’s fever had subsided enough to where she was able to drink a few ounces of water and open her eyes.
“Ah there she goes,” Owen smiled at her.
She smiled weakly and raised her hand to caress his cheek but it fell limply back onto the bed. He held it tenderly, wanting desperately to ask her why she’d kept this from him, but the answers were already established in his thoughts. The only mystery he had to solve was how she contracted this death sentence. For now, none of this mattered and he only wanted the fever to break so he could take her home and tend to her himself. In the meantime, he rambled on and on with stories he’d never shared with her. He cared not for why he suddenly needed to tell her everything that flooded into his thoughts but instead he simply let them flow, all the while holding onto her hand and waiting for it to cool. He told her of his first day of school in America and his fear of finding out he was a complete idiot and his personal glory when he realized how easily everything came to him. He told her of the first time he met Vernon and how he’d wanted nothing at all to do with Vernon due to his wealth and somewhat snobbish personality, and how he’d learned from her to never judge anyone. He was grateful to her for always reminding him that just as it isn’t a person’s fault to be born poor, it is the same for children born into wealth.
“Don’t dress too fancy or speak over people’s heads,” she always told him. “Look them in the eye, not in the wallet.”
For hours he sat going over all of her lessons, associating and validating them with his experiences. Even after her hand cooled and her eyes closed in deep slumber, he carried on through five cups of tea and two sandwiches, until night fell once again and he finally succumbed to sleep. His heart and mind were drained of every withheld experience from the smallest detail to his deep adoration of Raina and his unwavering dedication to helping people. His final confession was his longing to fall in love and how frightened he was of never finding it. Only then did Rachel finally open her eyes enough to look upon his weary, unshaven face and smile.
“Ye will fall in love when ye trust someone enough to catch ye,” she murmured.
“Ma, thank God.”
“I’m more proud of ye than ye will ever know,” she told him. “I’m sure ye know now what I’ve been up to. When I’m back on me feet, I’ll tell ye the rest. Please, get some sleep. I love ye with everythin’ I am. If ye love me the same, do what I ask.”
Owen kissed her forehead, lifted his blanket and pillow from the chair and carried it to the empty bed next to hers
. Before climbing in, he released the wheels and pulled the bed flush against Rachel’s so he could hold her hand while she slept.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Owen put on his white coat and walked the long hallway to his new office. He sat alone and in silence for several minutes before noticing a letter on his desk, propped up in front of a brand new, freshly pressed copy of “A Christmas Carol.” Since Christmas was but a few weeks away, he assumed this was yet another invitation to a holiday gathering and set the note aside, opting to thumb through the clean pages of the book for a few moments before checking the pile of patient files to his right.
“Oh, Ebenezer, ye old fool. It took ye three ghosts and an entire book before ye finally saw the good light in the world.”
Owen’s eyes shot up from the book. He could almost smell the grass and feel the warmth of the Irish sunrise on his face. Buried deep behind those green irises, arose the face of Daniel Flynn, glaring down at him. That glorious first sunrise bounced over Dan’s shoulder and bathed him and his brother in beams of gold so bright, he had to shield his eyes. His uncle appeared no more than a silhouette and his half-smile was almost invisible. Owen could feel Dillon clinging to him for protection. Yet again, an awakening of past memories was coming into focus unannounced.
“Past, present and future,” he mumbled and then was distracted by someone clearing their throat in the doorway, “I’m sorry, Polly. Can I help ye, lass?”
“I wanted to make certain you’d received the book and the letter. A very handsome gentleman named Vernon left it for you this morning.”
“Vernon?” Owen searched his desk for the letter and slit it open, scrambling to read what his old friend had written. He barely heard Polly when she told him she’d be right back with his tea. He drank in the good humor and delightful news of his friend’s impending marriage on Christmas Eve and was delighted to accept the invitation, as long as he could arrange for Aunt Kathryn to sit with Rachel. He imagined the fine affair and could hardly contain his excitement at Vernon’s impending nuptials.
Hope from the Ocean: (The Prequel to Fireflies ) Page 20