A Fall of Marigolds

by Meissner, Susan

  “There’s nothing complicated about that letter. I think you’re doing the right thing by giving it to him. I’ve thought all along he should have it. Although I don’t see any reason to put off doing it until he leaves.”

  “He needs to concentrate on getting well and getting off this island.”

  Dolly shrugged. “Well, I don’t suppose it will matter much if he reads it now or next week. And you’re sure Dr. Randall will return those things to Mr. Gwynn the way you want? He won’t report you, will he?”

  “He said he liked me. And he said he wanted to help me.”

  “But he was talking about helping you off this island. And other issues related to your wounded heart, I’d wager.” She was thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll trade wards with you. I’ll take the scarlet fever ward and you can finish out my week with the tots. They’re cute little things this time. No biters. And I will give Mr. Gwynn his belongings for you.”

  “Not until the day he leaves, right?”

  Dolly clucked her tongue. “I don’t think it will matter.”

  “It matters to me! I don’t want to run into him here on the island after he’s read it. He’ll know I had it the whole time. And that I certainly must have read it. You have to promise.”

  “I think you’re making more of this than what is there, love.”

  “I am not. That letter is going to crush him in a way Lily’s dying didn’t. He thinks she loved him! It’s an amazing thing to believe you are loved.”

  Dolly looked at me, surely hearing my own longing in those words. “Indeed it is,” she finally said.

  “So you will wait until he’s ready to leave? You promise?”

  “I promise. He won’t even suppose I know anything about anything. I’ll hand him the pattern book and the scarf on his way out. And it will be done. Finished. All right?”

  I nodded, closing my eyes.

  Yes, it would be finished.

  “So you’ll tell him you’re moving on to another ward, yes? You’ll tell him you’ll make sure the new nurse—that would be me—gets his belongings to him?”

  “Why can’t you just tell him?”

  Dolly studied me. “Is that really how you want to do it?”

  I shrugged and looked down at my feet. “I’m just his nurse.”

  “It’s not a crime that you fancied him, Clara.”

  I snapped my head up. “I didn’t. I don’t.”

  “And I’m saying it’s not a crime if you did. You can’t pine after Edward forever. He wouldn’t want it, you know. Have you thought about that? Would he have wanted you to be stuck on this island the way you are? I don’t think he would. No, I don’t.”

  “Stop.”

  “You know I’m right.”

  “I don’t fancy Andrew Gwynn. He mourns his wife, for pity’s sake.”

  “Then come with me and the girls next weekend. We’re going to the Jersey shore this time. Come with us. It will be fun. And it won’t be New York.”

  I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore. I just wanted to crawl under my bedcovers and escape into my dreams. “I don’t know, Dolly. Maybe.”

  “I can live with maybe.” Dolly closed the bag of popcorn and tossed it onto her bedside table. “But I think you should tell Mr. Gwynn tomorrow that you’re rotating to another ward. Tell him I can be trusted to get his pattern book and that scarf to him with no fuss. You say you have no feelings for him. But if you leave without saying a word, it will look as if you do.”

  She stood and a few stray bits of golden kernels fell to the floor. I watched as she took her toothbrush and powder and headed out of our room.

  If what Dolly said was true, then I would also have to tell Dr. Randall that I was rotating to a different ward. I rushed to follow Dolly to the bathroom. She looked up at me as she sprinkled powder on her toothbrush.

  “I’d like to tell Dr. Randall that I offered to switch with you because you were needing a break from the little ones,” I said.

  “Dr. Randall?”

  “He will also wonder why I left the ward early. He will see me on the children’s ward in your place and he will make assumptions. Just like you did.”

  Dolly considered this request for only a second. “You can tell him that.” She stuck the brush in her mouth but then pulled it out again. “And what of the doctor, Clara?”

  “Pardon?”

  “The doctor. Do you fancy him in any way?”

  “No,” I said quickly.

  Too quickly. She shoved the brush back in her mouth, a slight grin on her face.

  • • •

  I went in uniform with Dolly to breakfast the following morning, though I could have slept in later, as I had the day off. But I wanted to make sure Mrs. Crowley would allow us to switch wards with just one week left on our rotation. If we were to make it, Dolly would be headed to the scarlet fever ward that morning and the floater taking my place on my day off would need to report to the children’s ward.

  We ate quickly and found the matron in her small office near the main reception, getting ready for the week ahead. When we asked whether we could make the switch, because Dolly needed a break from the little ones who missed their mothers, she simply nodded. What did it really matter anyway to someone who didn’t know the real reason I wanted to switch? She was more interested to know why I was in uniform.

  “You’re off today, Miss Wood. Why are you dressed that way?”

  “I thought perhaps I needed to take care of this in uniform,” I said quickly.

  “Well, go take that off or I am liable to put you to work.” She shooed us away, obviously encumbered with more important matters.

  As we emerged back into the main corridor Dolly turned to me. “I’ve got a few belongings in the children’s ward. I’ll give you a couple minutes to say what you need to say to Mr. Gwynn.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  In fact, the quicker I said good-bye to him, the quicker I could regain my equilibrium, such as it was. We parted and I headed for the scarlet fever ward, earlier than I would have had I been working that day. The night nurse would still be on duty, and I would have to hope she didn’t find it strange that I needed to speak to one of the patients.

  As it was, she was assisting someone in the toilet, and I sped toward Andrew Gwynn’s bedside to take advantage of the opportunity. He appeared to have only just awakened. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, the sheets rumpled and the comfortable look of sleep in his eyes. The skin on his neck and cheeks looked better than it had in days. His eyes widened at my approach.

  “Nurse Wood?”

  “Good morning, Mr. Gwynn,” I said as quietly as I could without sounding like I was being secretive. “I just wanted you to know that I am rotating to a different ward today. But the nurse coming in after me is my roommate. Her name is Dolly and she will be sure to give you the pattern book and the scarf when you leave. She won’t say a word about either one until you are discharged and then she will hand them to you. All right?”

  He seemed to need a second to process all that I had said. I stole a glance toward the door but no one was walking toward it.

  “You’re moving to a different ward?”

  “Yes. We rotate wards here. I am moving to the children’s ward. I just didn’t want you to wonder how you were going to get your belongings. It’s all been taken care of. Dolly will be discreet.”

  “But . . . you said nothing of this yesterday.” He frowned and my heart seemed to skip a beat.

  “Yes, I know. It came up rather suddenly. Dolly was needing a break from the little ones. It can be hard for them. Very hard. Most of them miss their mothers so much. It’s very frightening for them.”

  “So I’ll not see you again?”

  For a second I could not answer. I had been wholly unprepared for his disapp
ointment.

  “I . . . Dolly is a fine nurse. And very friendly. You will all get on fine with her. I promise you.”

  He blinked, his gaze never leaving mine, and I could see he was thinking. Contemplating my words. Weighing them.

  “Is this about the book? Is it about the doctor?” he finally said, not much louder than a whisper.

  “No. No, not at all!” I whispered back with intensity. “We move about the wards. All the time.”

  But he sensed there was something I wasn’t telling him. I could see it in his expression. “Is it something I’ve said to you? What is it? What is troubling you?”

  His kindness, so like Edward’s, was nearly unbearable. I could feel tears springing from the ready place they’d occupied since the fire. There is no way to hide ready tears. You can keep them from falling, but you cannot keep them from shimmering just at the rim of your lashes. They shine like silver. Especially in morning light.

  The truth was, I did fancy Andrew. He was starting to fill the space Edward had left and I hadn’t even realized it until that moment. And nothing good could come from that swelling attraction, not for me.

  “I need to go.” I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I wish all the best for you, Mr. Gwynn. I truly do. And I . . . I hope you will remember that I said this to you.”

  I turned and left before he could say anything else, hurrying as I heard the pull of a nearby toilet’s flush cord.

  I flicked the stray tears away and made for my quarters. I pulled off my uniform as soon as I was alone in my room and tossed it onto the back of the vanity chair. I needed to get outside and drink air that didn’t smell like the hospital. Grabbing a tawny brown shirtwaist from my wardrobe, I re-dressed in my own clothes and yanked my nurse’s cap off my head. My hair came undone and fell about my shoulders but I didn’t care. I left the room.

  It was the first of September and the heat from the day before had slithered away like an unwanted guest. A teasing chill lingered and as I stepped into the sunlight, I felt my skin respond to the change in the weather. I made for the long corridor between islands two and three, passed the ferry house, and finally reached the far side of Ellis.

  Once there, I watched in fascination as the New York skyline shook off its early morning cloak and embraced the sun. An ache such as I had not felt before came over me. I wanted to be back in the city, in the grip and grace of its mesmerizing hues. Back to that bit of time when it was nothing but loveliness to me. I wanted to spin the world backward, to the day Edward had invited me up to the sewing floor. I wanted to say to him, “Let’s skip out early, shall we? Let’s leave before the clock tells us the workday is over!” He’d smile and say, “Where will we go?” And I would say, “Anywhere, Edward. Anywhere but here.”

  And we’d be far away from the Asch Building when the first hungry spark grabbed hold of tinder-dry scraps.

  I stood there for a long while, watching the city welcome the new day. I felt it call to me from its glistening shore. Teasing me. Taunting me. Daring me to return to the place where one doesn’t know from one moment to the next what will happen, where there is no spinning backward.

  I waited until that voice grew quiet and it seemed to turn its attention to more important matters.

  Then I walked slowly back, lingering for a while on Ellis, watching newcomers make their way into the building, hope and desire coloring their faces.

  As I passed through the ferry house I saw Dr. Randall in his blue medical corps uniform preparing to meet the next ferry. It was his day off, too. He saw me as well, and he pushed through the crowd to speak to me.

  “Miss Wood! You’ve changed your mind?” His voice was hopeful, but also dubious. He seemed surprised by more than just my being there. My hair was down around my shoulders and I hadn’t so much as a clip to keep it tamed. He looked regal and handsome in his ensign uniform, and I surely looked like a wild woman from the mountains.

  “No, just out for a walk,” I said, as brightly as I could.

  “Are you all right?” Concern played across his face.

  “Just forgot my hat. Have a nice day onshore. Good day, Doctor.”

  I started to move away from him, but he caught my arm gently. “I’ll wait for the next one if you’d like to go fetch your hat. It’s a beautiful morning in Manhattan, Miss Wood.”

  I looked past him for just a second to the city’s beckoning, bullying towers.

  “As pretty as it is here on the island,” I said.

  And I spun away from him.

  I didn’t look back. I headed toward my room, where I planned to spend the day writing letters and reading. In the main corridor I stopped to see whether the mail had been delivered and if there were any letters from my mother or sister.

  The mail had indeed been delivered. And there was a letter for me, but it was from my father. I opened it as I walked back to the nurses’ quarters, but stopped as I read what he had to say.

  He was coming to Manhattan that week and he wanted to have lunch with me. He, my mother, and Henrietta were worried about me.

  He would meet me at noon on Friday.

  At the dining room at the Hotel Albert on East Tenth Street.

  Twenty-Two

  I sat on the edge of my bed with my father’s letter in my hand, long after I had read it and read it again.

  I’d assumed that my parents and sister believed me to be happily engaged in my work at Ellis’s hospital, and so enamored with my post that I was fully content to spend every waking moment on the island, even on my days off.

  I was nothing but cheerful in my letters to my parents. I couldn’t think of one sentence I had written that betrayed my real reason for not leaving the island in nearly six months. The sad girl my parents had left in Manhattan had found renewed purpose on Ellis. But I had been a bit more forthright in what I wrote to Henrietta. As I sat there, I tried to remember what I had written to her that might have suggested that something besides dedication to the job kept me planted in one place. I hadn’t mentioned Edward, but I had told her the island was filling an empty space within me, one that the fire had created. Had she surmised there was more to it? If she was concerned about me, she wouldn’t hesitate to bring the matter up with our parents. But why couldn’t she have asked me first whether something was bothering me? I would have assured her that I was quite content.

  That was the least of my concerns, of course. I could not picture getting on a ferry on Friday to have lunch with my father. Just sitting there on my bed thinking about it made my heart race. I wasn’t ready.

  And I didn’t have that day off.

  Spinning thoughts circled in my brain as to how I could decline the invitation. I could send a telegram addressed to my father at the hotel, expressing my regrets that I had to work. He might wonder why I was not able to ask for the afternoon off when he had given me plenty of notice. I would have to say that I had tried but was unsuccessful. I would have to lie to him.

  I sprang from the bed, clutching his letter. I wasn’t in the habit of lying outright to my father. In fact, I never had. I had allowed him to think things that weren’t true, but I had never told him I had done something that I had not done. The thought of it now was nauseating.

  Perhaps I could tell Mrs. Crowley that my father had asked me to lunch but that I knew how busy the children’s ward was and I could meet him another time. I could tell her this when she was busy. She would be glad not to have to think about finding a floater for me for Friday afternoon. “Fine, fine,” she would say. And then I would not have to lie to anyone.

  In fact, I would ask her right then. Mondays were notoriously busy and she’d remember that I’d asked a favor of her already that day, so my telling her that I wouldn’t be asking for Friday off would actually sit well with her.

  I stuffed the note from my father in my skirt pocket and quickly braided my hair. Then I hea
ded down to the hospital’s main reception area to find Mrs. Crowley. It was nearly lunchtime and there was only a small crowd at registration. I waited until the last patient had been properly admitted and then, as Mrs. Crowley rose and began to collect her things before heading to the staff dining room, I approached her.

  “Mrs. Crowley, I’ve had a letter from my father asking me to lunch in Manhattan on Friday, but I will understand completely if asking for that afternoon off is too much of a complication, especially since you’ve already done me a favor today by allowing Dolly and me to switch rotations.” I said it too fast. She blinked at me.

  “What was all that?”

  I repeated what I had said, overly mindful that she was now paying attention to every word. I had hoped she would be distracted with more important details and would simply nod in agreement.

  “Your father, you say?”

  “Um. Yes. But—”

  “And when was the last time you went ashore?” She motioned for me to follow her. We began to walk.

  “The last time?”

  She turned to me. “Yes. I can’t recall that you’ve left the island since I’ve been here. So it must have been a while.”

  The conversation was not going as I had hoped. “Yes,” I said, but nothing else.

  “So how long has it been?”

  “Quite a while.”

  “Then you should go. No one on my staff is as dedicated as you are, Nurse Wood. But you can’t let your work be your everything. Go have lunch with your father on Friday.”

  “But I am sure we can make it another time. I know how busy the children’s ward can be.”

  She waved that excuse away as if it were a mayfly. “They’re all busy. Just go. Be glad you’ve a father to have lunch with. I want you to go. You’ll be no good to me if you work yourself to death, Nurse Wood.”

  “Oh, but I don’t mind the hours I put in. I truly don’t.”

  Mrs. Crowley frowned at me. “Yes, that’s my point. You should mind. You should want a break from all this. How can you not? I want you on the eleven o’clock ferry on Friday.”