Sophie's Dilemma

by Lauraine Snelling

  She turned at the tap on the door. ‘‘Come in.’’

  Mrs. Sam pushed open the door, carrying a tray with coffee and toast. She took one look at Sophie’s ankles and shook her head. ‘‘Oh, I was afraid of this.’’ She set the tray down. ‘‘You get back in that bed, child. I’ll bring in some comfrey tea.’’

  ‘‘What does that do?’’

  ‘‘Take down de swelling some, we hope.’’ She hustled out the door, throwing one more comment over her shoulder. ‘‘I’m sending Lemuel for Dr. Elizabeth.’’

  Sophie moved the stool closer to the bed with her traitorous foot. Bending over was now an action of yore. How could things change so overnight? True, she’d not let anyone see the puffiness the day before, but this was beyond belief. She stepped up on the stool, turned, and sat on the bed, thinking it must have grown taller in the night.

  Then lying on her side, resting before the act of rolling onto her back and pushing herself up against the headboard, she let the tears flow. They seemed to gush at any odd moment, whether finding a number in her account books that didn’t match or seeing the daffodils in their spring glory. She should have paid much more attention to the legions of pregnant women she’d known in Blessing—the tears ran harder, making her gulp—back when she’d been so sure of herself in all things. That seemed another lifetime ago. Today, this moment, she knew nothing other than women had been going through this for generations, which made the continual arrival of babies in Blessing that much more incredible.

  Once she’d heaved herself into some sort of propped-up position, she mopped her cheeks with the edge of the sheet, wondering if the skin on her ankles would pop before her belly did.

  Six more weeks of this. Her mother was a saint. Ingeborg was a saint. Any woman who went through this was a saint.

  She’d dozed off when another tap came on the door and Dr. Elizabeth entered with her black leather bag. ‘‘Sorry it is coming to this. You’ve done well so far.’’ She took out her stethoscope and checked Sophie’s heart and lungs. ‘‘Are you having trouble breathing?’’

  ‘‘Only if I try to bend over, or when—’’ ‘‘You stand up or sit down or . . . ?’’

  ‘‘Something like that. Even my skin hurts.’’

  ‘‘I’ll have Mrs. Sam rub some glycerin cream into it. Skin stretches, but you’re pushing beyond an easy stretch.’’ Moving down over the mound, she listened to the baby heartbeats. ‘‘Two for sure now.’’ She smiled at Sophie, who did not smile back. What if . . . ?

  She had to ask.

  ‘‘Elizabeth, they’re . . . all right, aren’t they?’’

  ‘‘Far as I can tell.’’ She looked deep into Sophie’s eyes. ‘‘You’re thinking about Grace and her deafness, aren’t you?’’

  Sophie nodded, ashamed she was so obvious. Her sister only gave joy to anyone who was around her. Why did it matter that she did it without hearing? Sophie wanted it not to matter for her babies, but deep inside, she knew it did.

  ‘‘God only knows. Someday maybe we’ll understand more, but right now, well, I’m grateful for every baby that is born whole and healthy.’’ Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth straightened. ‘‘What I do know is that mothers taking better care of themselves have healthier babies. Not lacing their corsets also gives healthier babies. Imagine being pinched into smaller spaces while you are growing.’’

  She pressed the skin around Sophie’s feet and ankles and looked at her equally swollen hands. ‘‘Keep your feet up. The less walking the better.’’ When Sophie started to say something, Elizabeth raised her hand. ‘‘I know. Graduation is tomorrow, and you want to go to the party, but even if you rode in a wagon or buggy, you’d be bumped around more than I want you to be. I’m sure it will be hot, and much as I hate to say it, you would be better off here.’’

  Tears leaked out around Sophie’s determination and rolled down her cheeks. ‘‘It’s not fair.’’ Hearing the familiar lament she’d uttered so many times since Hamre’s death only increased her misery. Missing out on one more thing since she’d returned, like she’d missed out on the winter dances and dinners around the family table. This time Sophie would miss Grace’s important day, a day they would have shared if Sophie had had sense enough to care back then.

  Now she was bawling like a calf who’d strayed too far from its mama, and as she did, she accepted that she couldn’t go to Grace’s graduation. Her life was her babies now, and they needed her feet up.

  Forcing the words out through the gulps, Sophie answered Elizabeth. ‘‘I-I know. I will stay here . . . for the babies.’’

  The westbound train whistled and, even though slowing, shook the entire building. While Sophie hardly ever paid attention to it anymore, Elizabeth rolled her eyes. ‘‘You must have to straighten pictures every day.’’

  ‘‘You’ve noticed we don’t have a lot of pictures on the walls.’’

  ‘‘Good thing. Do you have any questions?’’

  ‘‘I had one earlier, and now I can’t remember it. I’m going to have to let out those two dresses. . . .’’ A sigh slid up from her puffy ankles and out her lips. ‘‘Maybe I should just wear a sheet.’’

  An answering smile met her. ‘‘That’s a thought,’’ Elizabeth said. ‘‘We could sew two of them together at the shoulders and sides, hem them up, and away you go.’’

  Sophie giggled and she could feel her arms and legs relaxing. ‘‘Now that would be a sight.’’

  A bustle out in the vestibule caught their attention, then two male voices and Lily Mae answering.

  ‘‘Oh, that must be Mr. Gould, and now I won’t get to meet him either.’’ She slitted her eyes in thought. ‘‘I sure hope those rooms are at their best. I reminded Mrs. Sam about that yesterday. I should have put them on the first floor; then I could have made sure.’’

  ‘‘Sophie, Sophie, you know they took care of it all. And you’ll get to meet him. I’ll make sure of it.’’

  ‘‘But not now. My hair’s a mess. I’m a mess.’’ She raised her hands and let them fall on her stomach. ‘‘Nothing is going right.’’ Nothing had since Hamre. That’s enough. This muddling around in misery doesn’t change anything. Besides, it wasn’t true anyway. Just not the way she wanted things. Well, then. Her thoughts had steamed up like the train that had just blown through, and the words fell faster and faster as she stared at the ceiling. ‘‘And on top of that Garth asked me to marry him—’’ ‘‘Did you say what I thought you said?’’

  ‘‘And even after all this, I still want to travel—’’ ‘‘Sophie!’’

  Finally another rib-rattling sigh. ‘‘And I don’t know what to do.’’

  ‘‘Garth asked you to marry him?’’ Elizabeth’s eyes were wide.

  Sophie nodded. ‘‘He said he loves me, but I couldn’t say yes. I said yes too fast last time.’’ Moisture joined the tears on her cheeks. ‘‘No. I made Hamre say yes too fast. I’m not the same girl. At least I don’t want to be the same girl. What do I want now that I have a choice? A choice that includes two babies?’’ Blowing out a deep breath, she finished, her bottom lip in the pout she hadn’t allowed herself for months. ‘‘All I know is I’m so huge the bed might break, and then I’ll fall onto the floor.’’

  Elizabeth rolled her lips together to keep from laughing. When the silence fell, they could hear someone walking in the room overhead. Sophie made a face and clapped a hand over her mouth.

  ‘‘They couldn’t hear me, could they?’’

  ‘‘I doubt it. But I have some advice for you. All you can do right now is take care of yourself and the babies. All the rest will work out in God’s good time.’’

  Sophie swallowed and mopped her eyes with a napkin. ‘‘Sorry.’’

  ‘‘No problem. An outburst once in a while by a pregnant woman is not a bad thing. You’ve been through a lot, Sophie dear, and God isn’t going to desert you now.’’

  Sophie huffed a sigh that puffed out both cheeks. ‘‘Thanks. You won’t tell anyon
e, will you?’’

  ‘‘Tell anyone what?’’ Elizabeth put her stethoscope back in her bag.

  ‘‘About what I said.’’

  ‘‘Doctors never tell anyone anything they’ve been told.’’ She patted Sophie’s hand. ‘‘You talk it all over with your mother. She’s the best advisor around.’’

  Sophie slept through much of Saturday, or rather napped, since sleeping for any length of time day or night was becoming more difficult by the day.

  Sunday morning she drowsed awake when she heard the church bells, shed some more tears at missing the graduation, and fell asleep again.

  In the evening she heard laughter and recognized both Grace and Astrid’s voices. Surely the other voice was her mother’s, and when they trooped into her room, Ingeborg was along too.

  ‘‘Since you couldn’t come to the party, we brought the party to you,’’ Astrid said, setting a handled basket on the hassock.

  ‘‘Oh!’’ Sophie teared up again. It would be lovely to have a conversation without busting into waterworks. ‘‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come. How did it go?’’

  ‘‘We are all graduated,’’ Grace said. ‘‘That means we are women now, not just girls.’’

  ‘‘Not in my mind,’’ Ingeborg said. ‘‘You are all still my little girls.’’ She included Sophie in the warm glance.

  ‘‘Little?’’ Sophie stared at her belly, making the others laugh.

  ‘‘Well, in our minds you are all still little girls.’’ Kaaren kissed Sophie’s forehead. ‘‘Somehow I don’t remember being this big.’’

  ‘‘I don’t remember that either, but maybe over time we’ve forgotten some things.’’ Ingeborg walked around the bed and took Sophie’s hand.

  ‘‘You and Grace were so little, I was terrified you wouldn’t make it.’’

  ‘‘I think these two are going to be born walking,’’ Sophie said.

  ‘‘We wanted to bring ice cream, but Mor said it would melt before we got it here.’’ Astrid took a jar of canned raspberry juice from the basket. ‘‘I’ll take this out to the kitchen and make swizzle to have with our cake.’’

  ‘‘There’s ice in the icebox. Just ask Mrs. Sam.’’

  ‘‘We brought you some things to keep you busy,’’ Ingeborg said, taking a roll of fabric from another basket. She unrolled it to show an open-front baby gown with two sets of ties. ‘‘I thought you could embroider on this, and I brought knitting needles and baby yarn too, along with the instructions. Plus you can finish the handwork on these little hats, so you will have one for each baby. Can you sit in the chair?’’

  ‘‘With my feet on the stool I can, for a while at least. I tried working on the books earlier this morning, but I didn’t last long.’’

  ‘‘Have you met Mr. Gould yet?’’ Ingeborg asked.

  Sophie shook her head while fingering the little garments. ‘‘I wanted to, but . . .’’ She gestured to her hair. ‘‘I look a mess, and I can’t do anything without huffing and puffing.’’ Tears. She was going to shrink her face by the time these babies were born with all the water pouring down it.

  ‘‘We’ll take care of that.’’ Grace brought the brush and comb from the top of the chest of drawers. ‘‘Can you sit up more?’’

  ‘‘With help.’’

  Kaaren and Ingeborg helped her to sit on the edge of the bed with her feet on the stool.

  ‘‘I don’t have much bend in me. Almost slid off here during the night.’’

  ‘‘Here, this will be easier.’’ Kaaren brought a chair over and helped Sophie put her feet on that. ‘‘Better?’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’

  Grace knelt behind her and brushed through the long locks, using her fingers to work out some of the tangles.

  ‘‘Oh, that feels so good.’’ Sophie tipped her head back to make reaching the top of her head easier. ‘‘I just bundled it back in a snood earlier, but that’s not comfortable to lie on.’’

  ‘‘How about we braid it?’’ Kaaren drew up the rocking chair and sat down. ‘‘Elizabeth said those two dresses I sewed for you are getting too tight.’’

  ‘‘I suggested we sew two sheets together. I’m bigger than one of the cows.’’

  ‘‘I saw an elephant once,’’ Astrid announced as she came through the door. ‘‘Mrs. Sam is making the swizzle. A cow maybe,’’ she said, her grin impish. ‘‘But you’re not as big as an elephant.’’

  It felt so good to laugh.

  ‘‘Sophie,’’ Astrid said, lowering her voice. ‘‘Jonathan Gould has arrived.’’ Her eyes sparkled like there was a story to be told.

  Ingeborg and Kaaren both rolled their eyes. ‘‘Just because he is handsome . . .’’ Ingeborg began.

  ‘‘Well mannered. . . .’’ added Kaaren.

  ‘‘And has a charming New York accent . . .’’ Astrid piped in.

  ‘‘Are those any reasons for all the girls to swoon over him?’’ Inge-borg finished.

  ‘‘I didn’t swoon.’’ Astrid insisted, frowning at her mother.

  ‘‘All right. We exaggerated a teensy bit. But it was fun to watch.’’

  Grace finished braiding Sophie’s hair and tied a ribbon on the end of the braid. She sat beside Sophie on the bed. ‘‘Jonathan says he is looking forward to his summer here in Blessing.’’

  ‘‘Wait until he gets up to milk tomorrow morning.’’ Astrid plumped up the pillows and set them back against the headboard. Then she climbed up to sit against them. ‘‘Can we bring you books or anything?’’

  Sophie shrugged. ‘‘If I can work on these baby things, that will take me plenty of time.’’

  ‘‘Do you remember how to thread a needle?’’

  Ah, Astrid was quick. Sophie grabbed a pillow and thumped her cousin while Grace and the others chuckled. ‘‘I’ll have you know I sat still long enough to read the paper here, and I read one in Seattle.’’

  ‘‘One or once?’’ This time it was Grace, a slight smile sneaking over her lovely face.

  Mrs. Sam carried in a tray holding a tall pitcher and glasses with ice. She set the tray down, poured the glasses full, and handed them around. ‘‘Congratulations to the both of you,’’ she told the girls. ‘‘You all growed up now.’’

  When Mrs. Sam left the others filled Sophie in on all the doings she’d missed hearing about, including the rebuilding of the flour mill and a letter Elizabeth had received from the woman who had been interested in building a hospital in Blessing.

  ‘‘She is still pursuing the idea, she wrote, and is looking for investors.’’ Ingeborg’s fingers kept up her knitting.

  ‘‘Blessing would be blessed with a hospital,’’ Sophie said.

  When Sophie began to yawn moments later, Ingeborg put her knitting away. ‘‘It is time for us to be on our way home. I’ve been thinking.

  Perhaps we should have the men build a place for you to lie down out on the back porch. That way you could enjoy the breeze and not feel so cooped in. Pad it with quilts, a feather bed. Make something easy for you to get on and off.’’

  Later, reminiscing about the wonderful visit and rejoicing that she had people who cared about her, Sophie thought about Ingeborg’s idea. ‘‘A bed to roll the cow off and on.’’ She giggled, her words getting wispier. ‘‘But not as big as an elephant. So there.’’ Sophie was almost asleep when the thought hit her. She’d not told Grace about Garth’s proposal.

  37

  THE NEXT MORNING, thanks to Grace’s help, Sophie was sitting on the back porch next to Grace with her hair combed, face washed, and wearing the blue calico dress with new inserts in the sides so it was comfortable when a knock came at the door. Her heart leaped. The knock sounded male. So Garth had not abandoned her. ‘‘Come on out.’’

  ‘‘Pardon me, but I would like to meet the other Mrs. Bjorklund before I leave.’’

  The deep voice was like none she knew. Oh, do I look all right? How can I look all right? She trapped her dithering and put a smile on her face. �
��‘Mr. Gould, come join us.’’

  ‘‘Thank you.’’ He stepped through the door and tipped his head. ‘‘I couldn’t leave without meeting you, and now I’ve met all the family.’’ He nodded to Grace, acknowledging her too.

  Crossing the porch, he stopped at Sophie’s side and held out a box wrapped in white with a yellow bow. ‘‘This is for you.’’

  ‘‘Why, thank you.’’ She smiled up at him, noticing that his silver hair was set off by dark eyes. ‘‘You look just like I imagined. Tante Ingeborg has told us the story of meeting you so often. Please, have a seat.’’

  ‘‘I cannot stay long. I have a train to catch. I want to thank you for your hospitality and commend you for your fine establishment.’’

  ‘‘This is all thanks to Grandma Bridget. I just run it now. Well, actually, Mrs. Sam runs it. We’d be lost without her.’’

  ‘‘She is a fine cook. You are fortunate.’’

  ‘‘I know.’’

  ‘‘I hear that you dream of traveling.’’

  ‘‘I always have.’’

  ‘‘Well, if you travel to New York, we would be honored to have you stay with us. I tried to convince your mother and Ingeborg to come too. They might have new and better memories of the city if they came again.’’

  ‘‘Thank you for the invitation.’’

  ‘‘Well, I must be on my way. Thank you again.’’ He held out his hand, and she laid hers in it. He bent over and kissed the back of her hand and then repeated the action with Grace. ‘‘Good-bye, Mrs. Bjork-lund, Miss Knutson.’’

  ‘‘Good-bye.’’ They watched him leave, the door clicking behind him, then swapped astonished looks. ‘‘I think we should all go to New York,’’ Sophie told Grace.

  ‘‘Me too.’’

  Sophie felt her mouth drop open as she stared at her sister. ‘‘Would you go to New York?’’

  ‘‘If I went with all of you, yes.’’ Grace fetched the stool and put it in front of her sister. ‘‘Put your feet up.’’