The Nurse Novel

by Alice Brennan

  Miss Jennifer stared at her, outraged, affronted and mildly apprehensive. Dr. Potter chuckled.

  “Afraid you’ve met your match, Miss Jennifer, and way past time that you should have,” he said frankly. “And it seems only fair that your match should be a girl you brought up and bullied unmercifully for more years than I care to think about.”

  Miss Jennifer had the grace to look away from his impish grin and back to Lindsay, who was studying her curiously, almost as though she had never seen the old woman before.

  “And now, Lin honey, come and get settled. You’ll have the room next to Miss Jennifer’s, so that if she needs you in the night she will have only to call,” said Dr. Potter briskly, and gestured toward the dark old door that opened from Miss Jennifer’s room to an ancient bathroom in which a tub had been set in wooden frames. “You’ll want to change those damp clothes and have some supper. While you are unpacking and changing, I’ll hunt up Lucy-Mae and have her fix you something to eat.”

  “Nice of you to take over in my own house, Doctor,” sneered Miss Jennifer. “And I can tell you now, Lindsay, that you’ll get nothing fit to eat until Amalie comes back, unless you have learned to cook since you have been away.”

  “I have, Aunt Jennifer, and I’m sure I can teach Lucy-Mae to prepare you something you will like,” Lindsay answered coolly, and crossed the dingy old bath to an enormous room that was as gloomy as Miss Jennifer’s.

  She got out of her damp clothes, found a fresh uniform in her suitcase and donned it. For a moment she hesitated. Then she brushed her hair and tucked her cap smartly in place as she would have done at the hospital. When she came back into her aunt’s room, Miss Jennifer eyed her with acrid amusement.

  “Ah, quite the Florence Nightingale, aren’t you?” she sneered. “I am impressed.”

  Lindsay stood at the foot of the bed, her clenched fists jammed into the pockets of her uniform, her eyes meeting Miss Jennifer’s steadily.

  “Look, Aunt Jennifer,” she said quietly. “I will have to be here until Amalie comes back. Couldn’t we sort of declare a truce and stop this bickering? It gets us nowhere, and it’s very tiresome and childish and silly, don’t you think?”

  For a moment Miss Jennifer studied her with an inscrutable expression, and then she turned her head away and said irritably, “Oh, don’t be a fool. Go and get your supper.”

  “Have you had yours?” Lindsay asked.

  “Long ago. Jasper brought it. That fool Lucy-Mae won’t even come inside this room.”

  “Probably because you make things unpleasant for her when she does.”

  “Probably!” snapped Miss Jennifer. “She’s a servant, and I expect her to take orders and, what’s more, to carry them out. Which she won’t do. Just because I’m here in bed and can’t keep an eye on her, she does as she pleases from morning till night. And goodness knows what she does at night, if she’s even in the house. She won’t answer my bell.”

  “Well, I’ll be right next door from now on, Aunt Jennifer, and you will only have to call,” said Lindsay, and turned toward the door as it opened to admit Dr. Potter.

  “Come along, Lindsay; Lucy-Mae’s fixing your supper,” he urged. And then, as his eyes took her in from head to foot in the white uniform, he looked very pleased. “My, my, don’t you look pretty! I bet the docs and the residents at the hospital are going to miss you.”

  Miss Jennifer snorted, “Now don’t go filling her head with nonsense, Edward. She thinks well enough of herself without any help from you.”

  Lindsay said quietly, “I’ll be right back, Aunt Jennifer.”

  “Well, don’t hurry. I have managed very well without you for five years. I can manage quite well for five more years.”

  Dr. Potter’s eyes sparkled with anger, but he did not answer as he held the door open for Lindsay.

  “Uncle Doc, couldn’t she be in a wheel chair? I know she is paralyzed from the waist down, but it seems to me a wheel chair would be more comfortable for her. Staying in bed all the time must become very tedious. No wonder her disposition is so bad,” said Lindsay as they walked along the wide old hall and out through the open back door to the covered runway that led to the outdoors and beyond it to the kitchen.

  Yellow lamplight spilled from the open kitchen door, and they had to dodge the blowing rain as they hurried along the passageway.

  “I’ve been trying to get her into a wheel chair ever since the paralysis struck, but she won’t listen,” Dr. Potter answered. “Perhaps you can persuade her.”

  Lindsay gave a small, mirthless laugh.

  “That’s a joke, Uncle Doc. Me persuade her to do anything? I’d be more likely to convince her that she could never use a wheel chair!” Lindsay answered and stepped beside him into the kitchen.

  It was a very large room, with several windows against which the storm slashed furiously, making the light of the big oil lamp on the clean-scrubbed table flicker.

  A young Negro girl in her mid-twenties, her face sullen, stood near the big old wood range. In the background a young Negro man a few years older than the girl stood watchfully alert. “Lucy-Mae, Jasper, this is Miss Mallory, who has come to look after Miss Jennifer until Amalie comes back,” Dr. Potter introduced Lindsay, who smiled a warm, friendly smile. The two seemed to relax ever so slightly beneath the impact of that smile.

  “How you do, Miss Lindsay?” said Lucy-Mae.

  “I’m fine, Lucy-Mae, and I’m sure you and Jasper and I are going to be good friends,” Lindsay replied, and added suddenly, “Oh, I remember you now, Lucy-Mae. Amalie used to bring you with her when you were just a little thing, and you and I used to play together.”

  The ebony face was split with a wide grin, and the last trace of sullenness vanished from Lucy-Mae’s eyes.

  “Yessum, Miss Lindsay, we sure did, and we had some good times, didn’t we?” She beamed.

  “We surely did, Lucy-Mae.” Lindsay laughed and turned to Jasper. “I don’t remember you, though, Jasper. Were you here then?”

  Jasper’s grin was shy. “No’m, Miss Lindsay. I come here ’bout five-six years ago, and me and Lucy-Mae married, and I’ve been here ever since.”

  “Jasper’s a fishin’ man,” Lucy-Mae reported. “He came here with me when Granny broke her hip, account of I wouldn’t come by myself.”

  She glanced uneasily at Dr. Potter and then back to Lindsay.

  “I ain’t sayin’ I’m skeered o’ Miss Jennifer, but she sure is hard to get along with,” she defended herself. “I don’t mind cooking and cleaning and the like o’ that. But she’s the meanest white woman the Lord ever put breath in!”

  The last came out in a swift, angry flood that Lindsay knew instantly Lucy-Mae regretted almost before the words were spoken.

  “Reckon I ought to say I’m sorry I said that, Miss Lindsay,” she mumbled. “But I purely ain’t, ’cause it’s nothing but the dyin’ truth! She’s mean!”

  “She’s sick, Lucy-Mae, and helpless,” Lindsay attempted an explanation, even though she knew before she spoke the words that they were not true.

  “She wasn’t sick when you was here, a little bitty girl just ’bout so high!” Lucy-Mae protested. “She was mean the day she was born, and she just kep’ on gettin’ meaner and meaner.”

  “Well, never mind now, Lucy Mae. You won’t have to come into contact with her. I’ll be here to look after her until Amalie comes back,” Lindsay tried to soothe the girl’s rising anger.

  “Give Miss Lindsay her supper now, Lucy-Mae. She’s tired, and I’m sure she’s hungry.” Dr. Potter spoke firmly. “And I’ve got to be getting back to the hospital. If you need me, Lin honey, Jasper will telephone me from the village.

  “Of course, Uncle Doc.” Lindsay smiled at him, brushed his leathery cheek with her soft lips and saw him depart.

  She turned back as Lucy-Mae began dishing up an ampl
e and very appetizing-looking supper.

  “You want to eat in here, Miss Lindsay?” she interrupted herself to ask anxiously. “The dining room is so cold, and vittles gets cold taking ’em in there.”

  Lindsay drew up a chair to the table, that was scrubbed to bone-whiteness, and smiled at Lucy-Mae.

  “Right here, Lucy-Mae, where it’s warm and dry!”

  Lucy-Mae put the plate in front of her and poured coffee and said anxiously, “Sure is too bad you had to come back to Bayou House when it’s stormin’ like this.”

  Lindsay managed a rueful smile.

  “Well, it isn’t exactly a pleasure trip, Lucy-Mae!” she answered.

  “No, ma’am,” Lucy-Mae answered vigorously. “It sure ain’t! And that’s for sure!”

  Chapter Two

  Long after she had gotten Miss Jennifer settled for the night, and had gone to bed herself, Lindsay lay wide-eyed, staring into the darkness.

  She fell asleep at last, and when she awakened in the morning, it was to find that the storm was over and the sun was out. Her spirits lifted a little at the sound of birds singing in the old trees around the house.

  In her uniform, she went in to Miss Jennifer, who eyed her sourly.

  “I needn’t ask if you slept well,” Miss Jennifer sneered. “It’s the middle of the morning, and you’re just getting up.”

  Lindsay glanced at her wrist-watch and said evenly, “It’s eight o’clock, Aunt Jennifer. What would you like for breakfast? I’ll have Lucy-Mae prepare it while I give you your bath.”

  “You’re going to give me a bath? I’d like to see you try it,” snapped Miss Jennifer, her tone outraged.

  “Would you? Then just wait until I give Lucy-Mae your breakfast order, and I’ll let you see me bathe you,” Lindsay told her coolly.

  “You don’t have to give Lucy-Mae any orders,” snapped Miss Jennifer. “She knows what I like, and Jasper will be bringing it along any hour now.”

  “Then we might as well get on with the bath, don’t you think?” said Lindsay in the firm but pleasant tone she would have used to an obstreperous patient in the hospital, as she pushed her sleeves up and went into the bathroom for a large basin and fresh washcloth and soap.

  Outraged beyond measure, Miss Jennifer submitted unwillingly to the bed-bath. When she had been put into a fresh nightgown and the incongruous ruffled cap tied once more beneath her chin, she glared up at Lindsay.

  “Now,” said Lindsay briskly, “isn’t that more comfortable? I’ll change your bed as soon as I find the fresh sheets.”

  “You will not!” snapped Miss Jennifer hotly. “My bed is exactly the way I want it, the way Amalie fixed it.”

  “Then it’s high time it was changed, isn’t it?” said Lindsay.

  There was a gentle tap at the door, and Lindsay opened it to admit Jasper, a laden tray in his hands.

  “Lucy-Mae, she say maybe you like to eat breakfast with the madam, Miss Lindsay, so she sent breakfast for two,” he announced.

  “Oh, that will be nice, won’t it, Aunt Jennifer?” said Lindsay sweetly as she drew a small table beside the bed, and Jasper put down the tray and made a thankful escape. “Can you feed yourself, Aunt Jennifer?”

  Miss Jennifer’s answer was an angry exclamation.

  “Of course I can feed myself, you impertinent creature!” she blazed. “Just set the tray here in my lap and get on with your own.”

  “Good!” said Lindsay, and fluffed the pillows, adding an extra one that propped Miss Jennifer high enough for her to handle the tray. “Too bad you don’t have any of the comforts of the hospital, like a bed that can be raised or lowered, and a sliding shelf to hold your tray, and a wheel chair! Wouldn’t that be wonderful, Aunt Jennifer—a wheel chair so that you could go out of this room onto the verandah?”

  Miss Jennifer glared at her, ignoring momentarily the golden-yellow scrambled eggs, the thin slice of rosy ham, the inevitable grits on her plate.

  “A wheel chair?” she cried sharply. “I suppose that fool Doc Potter put you up to insisting I get about in a wheel chair. He’s been trying to get me into one ever since my legs gave out on me. I refuse to spend the money for such foolishness! And you’re wasting your time trying to persuade me to.”

  Lindsay was busy with her own breakfast and apparently paying little attention to her aunt’s sputtering indignation.

  “Well, I only thought you must get very tired of staying in this room all the time, with nobody to help you get out on the verandah! Why, with a wheel chair you could even go out in the garden when the weather gets a little warmer,” she answered carelessly. “Wheel chairs aren’t so terribly expensive, Aunt Jennifer. And after all, you can easily afford some of the comforts. So why shouldn’t you have them?”

  Miss Jennifer eyed her shrewdly, a malicious gleam in her eyes.

  “I must admit I’m a little surprised that you should try to encourage me to spend money,” she drawled spitefully. “I would have expected you to begrudge every penny I spent, because it would mean that much less for you when I’m gone.”

  Lindsay put down her fork and clenched her hands tightly in her lap as she met the spiteful old eyes.

  “And why should I expect anything from you when you are gone, Aunt Jennifer?” she asked quietly. “You surely don’t think I expect the most casual mention in your will?”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t, because you’re not going to get one!” snapped the old woman. “I’ve made my will, and your name isn’t even in it.”

  “I never expected it to be,” Lindsay said evenly. “I don’t even want it to be.”

  “Oh, don’t you?” sneered Miss Jennifer. “Then why else did you come sneaking back here when you found Amalie was in the hospital?”

  Wearily Lindsay said, “Because I felt it was my duty, Aunt Jennifer. I told you that last night when I arrived.”

  “Humph! You told me, but I’m sure you didn’t expect me to believe it,” Miss Jennifer sneered. “You came back because that old Doc Potter telephoned you that I was helpless and you both felt it was a good chance to get on the good side of me. You hoped maybe I’d change my will.”

  Lindsay said, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you have to leave in your will, Aunt Jennifer, but whatever it is, I want no part of it. I’m perfectly capable of earning my own living, and I want no part of Bayou House, or the fisheries or the fishing fleet or anything else that you own.”

  Miss Jennifer’s thin-lipped old mouth twisted with contempt.

  “And you expect me to believe that?” she snapped.

  “Whether you do or not, Aunt Jennifer, doesn’t matter in the least to me, because it’s the complete and unadorned truth!” Lindsay told her.

  She stood up and added quietly, “I’ll go get the linens to change your bed while you finish your breakfast.”

  She went out and closed the door and stood for a long moment in the dark hall, leaning her back against the heavy old panels. She had known that this was going to be an ordeal when Dr. Potter had telephoned her at the hospital, but she hadn’t remembered quite how unpleasant Aunt Jennifer could be.

  She came back to Miss Jennifer’s room with the fresh linen, and Miss Jennifer watched her warily as she approached the bed.

  “I’ve told you you’re not going to change my bed,” Miss Jennifer warned her.

  “I know,” Lindsay answered pleasantly. “You also told me I wasn’t going to give you a bath, but I did.”

  “Well, only because I’m a helpless, defenseless old woman and you are stronger than I am.”

  “That’s the reason I’m going to remake your bed: because I’m stronger than you are,” Lindsay said. “Roll over now.”

  She held the folded sheet, ready to slip it under the big old body, but Miss Jennifer refused to budge, looking up at Lindsay with hate-filled eyes.
/>   “Suppose you make me,” she sneered childishly.

  “Glad to,” said Lindsay, slipped her arms beneath the ample body and heaved not too gently. As the old body rolled, she moved swiftly and tucked the folded sheet beneath it.

  Miss Jennifer sputtered furiously, but Lindsay went on deftly as she had been taught at the hospital, tucking the folded sheet neatly at either end, then went around to the other side of the bed.

  “Roll over,” she ordered, and Miss Jennifer planted herself firmly as before.

  Lindsay again slipped strong young arms beneath her, heaved and yanked the sheet in place, while Miss Jennifer burst into tears of helpless rage.

  “Almost finished now,” Lindsay told her with professional cheerfulness as she adjusted the sheet and mitered the corners.

  “You’ve almost finished me,” Miss Jennifer wailed, and a moment later was crying out, “Oh, Doctor, Doctor, I’m so glad you’ve come. She’s been abusing me shamefully.”

  “Hello, Uncle Doc,” said Lindsay as she straightened from smoothing the sheet and glanced toward the door, confident that Dr. Potter would share her somewhat acid amusement at the old woman’s words.

  The next moment she caught her breath and stood quite straight, for the man in the doorway was not Dr. Potter. He was a tall, ruggedly handsome young man, no more than twenty-eight to thirty, and he was eyeing her with a look of sharp censure.

  “What’s the meaning of this, Nurse?” he demanded sharply.

  “She’s been pulling and pushing me and saying terrible things to me, Doctor. Oh, please make her go away and let me alone. I’m not able to stand this sort of thing. I’m a helpless, defenseless old woman, and she’s taking a mean advantage of me. I don’t want her here! Make her go away.” Miss Jennifer sobbed wildly and held out shaking hands to the tall young man.