by Stacy Henrie
Evelyn fought the urge to cry. Would she ever stop weeping or battling tears? “What job did you have today?” she asked after sampling some cheese.
Louis paused in devouring his lunch. “Washing windows.” He made a face. “But I get to stand on a ladder to reach the high parts.”
Evelyn allowed a soft chuckle. The sound was foreign and felt as if it must have come from someone else. She cut a glance at Louis. He appeared to be adjusting well to living at the hospital, though at night when she came to tuck him in, he often confided through his tears how much he missed his mother. Evelyn didn’t have the heart to tell him it would be a long time, years perhaps, before the ache lessened. Was that how it would be for her, without her baby, without Joel?
Louis finished his bread and started in on his cheese, but several moments later, he stopped chewing and cocked his head. “Are you sad, Nurse Gray?”
Evelyn swallowed the morsel in her mouth and did her best to appear less sorrowful. “Why do you ask?”
He broke off a tiny bit of cheese and squeezed it between his fingers. “Dr. Dupont said something sad happened to you last week, but I am not to ask. I promised. He said Cook would give me no sweets for a week if I broke my word.” He lifted his chin and studied Evelyn. “You look like ma mère after Papa was killed. But you are not going to die, too, right? That is not asking, okay?”
Sliding over, Evelyn placed her arm around him. She could relate to his fear of her leaving him. “You haven’t broken your word, Louis.” She pulled him close. “And no, I am not going to die. I am perfectly healthy.”
He visibly relaxed. “I am sorry you are sad.”
“That may be true at other times. But do you know what?”
Louis glanced up. “What?”
“You help me not be sad.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
His face brightened at her words and he scrambled onto his knees. “Guess what Cook made last night?” He didn’t wait for Evelyn to answer. “Fudge.”
Clearly there’d been more in the truck the other week than just supplies. Evelyn peered into the basket. She’d longed for real chocolate for months. Louis removed a napkin from a small plate, revealing four brown squares.
“Real fudge? This is the perfect picnic.”
Louis picked up the plate and held it out to her. Evelyn took a piece of fudge and bit into it. While it didn’t taste exactly like the fudge from home, it was better than any sweet she’d had in ages. “Delicious.”
That was all the prompting Louis needed. He popped two in his mouth before Evelyn had swallowed her first piece. As she reached for her second, a large raindrop splattered on her hand. Another hit her apron. She finished off her fudge and climbed to her feet.
“Come on, Louis.” She grabbed the basket, just as the scattered drops became sheets of rain. She darted for the building and Louis followed. Evelyn ducked down the cellar entrance, which provided some shelter from the downpour. She looked at Louis and couldn’t help a genuine laugh. “We’re soaked.”
Louis grinned and gave his head a good shake, sending water flying in all directions. Removing her drenched cap, Evelyn shook out her hair, too. She would definitely have to change before she returned to her duties. She eyed the still pelting rain, an idea forming, then she smiled at Louis.
“Do you know what you do when it rains at a picnic?”
Louis shrugged.
“You play tag.” She touched Louis’s arm and darted back into the rain, calling over her shoulder, “You’re it, Louis. Now you have to chase me.”
He laughed and started after her as she raced through the rain. She sprinted to the driveway, but she slowed her steps when she reached the front lawn so Louis could catch up.
“I got you, Nurse Gray.” He slapped a hand against her back before running off. The joy on his face brought Evelyn a twinge of happiness.
She turned and dashed after him. Back and forth they chased each other across the grass—first one it then the other. Evelyn couldn’t remember ever being so wet, but the coolness of the rain, the fresh smell of the damp earth, and the sweetness of laughter in her throat felt exhilarating.
Out of breath, and a little sore, she stopped and lifted her face to the cleansing drops. The water slid down her face and off her chin, but this time, it wasn’t tears. She felt Louis’s hand slip into hers as she stood there. Gratitude for the simple moment melted some of the hard numbness that had encased her heart the last week. A feeling of thankfulness grew and became words in her mind, almost like a prayer.
Thank you for Louis. Thank you for the rain. Thank you for a reason to smile, if only for a few minutes.
Down deep she still felt the hollowness of losing the baby, but this moment in the rain gave her hope that someday she would feel more whole.
“Race you to the surgery wards,” Evelyn said, tipping her head in the direction of the cellar entrance. It was probably time to get back.
Louis let go of her hand and raced away. “I will beat you, Nurse Gray.” His adorable grin reappeared.
Evelyn followed at a slower pace. She’d done enough running. The rain felt colder now that their tag game had ended, but she had to admit she’d enjoyed herself. Ahead of her, Louis disappeared down the cellar steps. Evelyn collected her neglected cap and the picnic basket and pushed through the heavy door.
“You certainly did beat—”
Dr. Dupont stood there, a hand on Louis’s shoulder. “Did you have a nice picnic?” he asked.
Evelyn wrung water from her apron. “We did, though we got caught in the rain.”
“It is all right, Nurse Gray,” Louis said. “I told him about tag.”
She blushed, though the doctor’s gaze reflected only amusement and compassion, not censure. “Yes, well, I need to get back to work, Louis.”
“Actually, Sister Marcelle would like to see you.” Dr. Dupont peered down at Louis. “You, too.”
“Is everything all right?” Evelyn studied the doctor’s face as her stomach twisted painfully with fear. What did Sister Marcelle want? Had someone told her the real reason for Evelyn’s three-day absence from work?
“No need to worry.” The doctor gave her a pointed look that brought Evelyn some relief. He, at least, hadn’t revealed anything. “She said she had news, which concerned the two of you.”
“Should we change?” She glanced at Louis and couldn’t help laughing again. He looked like a drowned kitten, and she was certain she hadn’t fared much better.
Dr. Dupont shook his head. “She asked you to come the moment you returned.”
Evelyn blew out a sigh and held her hand out to Louis. “Let’s go then. Wet and all.”
She led him up the back stairs. With each step, their shoes made squishing noises, which set Louis laughing. Soon Evelyn was giggling, too. When they reached the door to Sister Marcelle’s office, she paused to smooth her damp apron and take a deep breath.
“Can you keep a straight face?” She gave Louis a stern look, but he wouldn’t have it. His lips creased. He clapped his hand over his mouth to hide his smile.
Evelyn fought back another set of giggles as she knocked and waited for the sister to invite them in. Once she did, they stepped into the room and Evelyn shut the door behind them.
Sister Marcelle turned away from the window and smiled. “Ah. Here are two of my favorite people.”
“The doctor said you wished to see us.” Evelyn didn’t spare a glance at Louis. If she did, she might not be able to keep from laughing again.
“Yes, thank you both for coming.” Sister Marcelle went to her desk, but she didn’t sit. Instead she set her fingers on a sheet of paper lying there and shifted it back and forth, back and forth. She cleared her throat.
The head sister had always exhibited a calm, controlled demeanor, but clearly she was distressed today. The worry Evelyn had felt downstairs returned with greater intensity. Whatever the news, it wouldn’t be pleasant. Evelyn squeezed Louis’s hand and r
isked a quick peek at him. He, too, must have sensed the discomfort in the air. His earlier smile had been replaced by a tight frown.
“I will get right to it.” Sister Marcelle placed her palm flat against the paper and lifted her chin. “I received word this morning that you are being transferred, Nurse Gray.”
“Transferred?” Evelyn echoed, reeling back as if slapped. “To where?”
“The front lines. A truck will be here tomorrow to take you and Dr. Dupont to your new assignment.”
“And me.” Louis stood tall, his small chest puffed out. “I am going, too.”
“I am afraid that is not possible, Louis.” Sister Marcelle came around the desk. “You will need to stay—”
“No.” He pulled his hand from Evelyn’s grip and twisted to face her. “I can come with you, Nurse Gray. I can help. I can.”
Evelyn’s heart felt as if someone had twisted it full circle. How could she leave Louis behind, and yet what choice did she have? She had no legal claim on the boy, and she would not put him in danger by taking him with her to the front.
Kneeling, she took both of his hands in hers. “Louis, you can’t come with me. You know that. It’s much too dangerous. You have a home here, with Nurse Thornton and Sister Marcelle and all the others.”
Several tears slipped down his clamped jaw. The determined light in his black eyes reminded her so much of Joel that it hurt. “But you will not be here,” he argued in a fierce tone.
“For a while, yes—”
“No,” he repeated. Yanking his hands from hers, he darted past her and flung open the door.
“Louis?” Evelyn rose to her feet and started after him, but Sister Marcelle called her back.
“Let him go,” she said in a gentle voice. “I knew he would need some time to accept the change. I will look in on him in a bit.”
“Thank you.” Evelyn longed to follow him, to bury her own head beneath a pillow and sob. She had thought her time for good-byes had passed with the loss of her baby, and now it was sooner than she’d expected.
“I am sorry you cannot stay, Nurse Gray. You will be greatly missed, and not only by Louis.”
“Do you think there is a chance I could be transferred back?”
The sister lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I suppose it is possible. In the meantime, we will have the boy write to you, and you are always welcome to come here on leave.”
Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache was forming. Her next leave was still weeks away. “You—you will look out for him?”
Sister Marcelle nodded. “While a hospital is not the best place for a young boy, he is welcome to stay here as long as he likes.”
“I wish I could do more for him. He is…” Evelyn let her voice trail off. Was it silly that she and Louis were the closest thing to family either of them had now?
“He is a good boy and loves you very much. I do not think your bond is one that will be severed with time or distance.” Sister Marcelle’s voice was soft, almost wistful. “Nor do I think it a coincidence that you met one another before his mother died.”
Evelyn studied the sister’s lined face. “You are very good with him.”
Sister Marcelle smiled, but it held a bit of sadness. “I had two younger siblings I looked after and adored. My brother died at four years old, and I have not heard from my sister in years. She felt I was throwing my life away when I decided to become a Sister of Charity. We had always planned to marry brothers, become mothers ourselves, and live beside each other. I hope she has fared well through this war.” She glanced at her hands, then straightened her shoulders. “As I said, I will look in on Louis soon.”
“Thank you, Sister Marcelle.” Evelyn meant so much more than the sister’s help with Louis. Sister Marcelle’s story gave Evelyn a rare look at the woman’s private life and the heartache she hid behind her perpetual smile. “Is there anything else you need?”
Sister Marcelle shook her head. “You may to return to your work.”
Evelyn left her office, but she hesitated beside the stairs. She wanted so much to talk to Louis now, though he was likely still angry with her. Hopefully they could resolve things before she left tomorrow.
Recalling that Dr. Dupont was also leaving, Evelyn went back downstairs. She was needed in the recovery ward soon, but first, she had something to say to the surgeon. She found him in his surgery ward, going over the ledger. He glanced up when she walked in and set his book aside.
“Did you know?” Evelyn demanded. “That I was going to be transferred to the front? Is that why you let Louis take me on that picnic, knowing all the while I was going to have to leave him behind?” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from crying.
“I did not know. Sister Marcelle only mentioned I was being transferred. She did express sorrow at losing her best nurse, too, which I suspected meant you.” He removed his glasses and wiped them on his lab coat. “I allowed the picnic because you needed something happy and pleasant, Nurse Gray.”
Evelyn turned away, her face hot. “I’m sorry. Forgive me for jumping to conclusions. You’ve been nothing but kind. It’s just that…” She swallowed back her tears, but they would not obey. “How can I leave him? He’s as much mine as…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. If she did, she feared the pain of losing her baby would rise up and render her useless to everyone, including Louis.
She heard the sound of the doctor crossing the room. He came to a stop in front of her and took her hand in his. “You can. And you will.”
“But how? I won’t be here to know he’s all right. That he’s fed and warm and happy.”
Dr. Dupont’s eyes glistened with moisture. “I thought the very same thing when I learned the Germans had taken over Bridgette’s village.”
Evelyn wiped at her wet face, guilt replacing her anguish. She shouldn’t complain. At least Louis had someone kind to look out for him, even if it couldn’t be her for some time. The good doctor had no way of knowing how his daughter was faring.
“Do you know what has kept me from going mad with worry?” he asked.
“What?”
He patted her hand. “Prayer, Nurse Gray. At times like these, it is only God who can keep the burden of fear and remorse from crushing us. Do you believe that?”
She sniffed and glanced at the floorboards. Did she believe God would help her and Louis? Maybe not so much her, but she didn’t doubt He would watch over this little boy who’d become as near and dear to her as anyone. Except perhaps Joel.
Fighting the sting of memories when it came to Joel, Evelyn nodded. “I will try to remember that.”
“Good.” He released her hand and offered her a compassionate smile. “I am somewhat relieved to hear you are going to the front, too. They need both our skills and I want our best nurse assisting me.”
“Thank you.”
He returned to his books and Evelyn left the room. She made her way to the recovery ward, where she threw herself into the work of assessing patients, helping others to walk around the lawn, and wheeling others outside in their chairs. The keen attention to her tasks kept her mind from wandering too often to things she didn’t want to dwell on, such as the transfer or her miscarriage.
By the time dinner rolled around, she was ready to drop from exhaustion, though she was glad she’d made it through the past several days without morphine. She would need all the stamina she possessed to be a nurse at the front.
Evelyn entered the bustling dining hall, but to her great disappointment, she didn’t see Louis. She sought out Sister Marcelle, seated at one of the tables, hoping the sister would know where the boy had gone. The head sister informed her that Louis had eaten earlier. Evelyn’s distress cut deeper—she and Louis typically ate their meals together. Sister Marcelle told her she’d talked with the boy that afternoon and was confident he understood the impossibility of accompanying Evelyn to the front.
He must still be angry,
though, Evelyn thought, if he’d avoided eating with her. She finished her dinner quickly, then headed upstairs to Louis’s room in the attic. The two of them had created a nice, snug room, complete with a lamp, a makeshift bookshelf out of crates, and the iron bedstead Evelyn had discovered on her perusal of the top floor. They’d also brought his grandmother’s books, a pocket watch of his father’s, and two of his mother’s quilts from the little cottage to serve as tangible, happy reminders of his family. The room also had a radiator, which would keep Louis warm in the coming cold months.
She found Louis in bed, reading his copy of Around the World in Eighty Days. He flicked his gaze at her as she entered the room but didn’t speak. Evelyn sat down on the bed beside him.
“You’ve read quite a bit,” she said, noting the number of pages he’d made it through.
He shrugged, his eyes still focused on his book.
“Are you ready for me to blow out the lamp?”
Louis shook his head.
Evelyn straightened the corner of his blanket and stood, frustration and hurt weighing heavily on her. She couldn’t force him to talk, though she wished her last night with him might have gone differently.
“Good night then, Louis. Sleep well.” She walked to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Evelyn?”
Surprise filled her at hearing him use her first name. He’d always called her Nurse Gray. She turned back, relieved to have the strained silence broken. “Yes?”
He shut his book, though he still wouldn’t fully look at her. “You will not forget me, will you?”
Evelyn pressed her lips hard against the rush of emotion crawling up her throat. She crossed the room in three strides and sank onto her knees beside his bed. “Of course not. I could never, ever forget you, Louis. I’m going to write you and I’ll come see you the minute I can. All right?”
His chin wobbled with unshed tears before he threw his small arms around her neck and held tight. “I do not want you to go.”
“I know.” A few tears escaped her own eyes, despite her efforts to appear strong. “I don’t want to go either. But we’re going to make it through this, Louis. We will.”