Blessed Assurance

by Lyn Cote

  Caleb didn’t speak at first. “You could start over, learn.”

  “I can’t. Can’t you see? Just the thought of doctoring again makes me literally sick to my stomach. My hands shake just thinking of holding a scalpel. You were there. I can’t explain it to Jess. She couldn’t know what it was like.”

  “She’s a good woman. You’d just have to take time—”

  “No. I can’t face it. I can’t even talk to her about it. In the last two years of the war, Will, my best friend, and alcohol were the only things that kept me going. And after Will died, that left only whiskey.”

  “Susan told me you quit being a bartender, but she didn’t tell me you drank.”

  “I don’t drink anymore. But I wasn’t sober from the night Will died until early this year.” In spite of the stuffiness of the room, Lee shivered sharply. He couldn’t stop now. “It’s more than that. My family hushed it up, but the army sent me home under restraint. I was out of my mind with drink, with…” He fought the images of that last hellish night of surgery when he’d begun screaming and couldn’t stop. Even when he was too hoarse to make a sound, he’d gone on. A cold sweat broke over Lee, shaking.

  “What brought you to Chicago, then? If you didn’t want to face this, why come to Will’s family?”

  Lee clamped his legs together and clutched the sides of the chair. The trembling lessened. He cleared his thickened throat. “I promised Will I’d take care of Jessie and his son.”

  “I see.” Caleb bent his elbow to the chairback and rested his chin on his fist. “You lied to Mrs. Wagstaff, so she wouldn’t have to know you were a doctor. Now you need to tell her the truth because you want to marry her.” He looked up. “Why not just keep on lying?”

  Distant fire bells started up again, sending their message of danger. They suited Lee’s mood. Alarms within. Alarms without. “She read some of Will’s letters and found out Lee Smith was dead. She’s known since a few days after your father’s death.”

  “That long? That’s not like Mrs. Wagstaff. She doesn’t stand for things for a minute. There’s your answer. Susan was right.”

  “What’s my answer?”

  “Mrs. Wagstaff cares about you. She’s not a woman to hide from the truth. She must have feelings for you or she would have had it out with you right then and there.” Caleb sounded sincere.

  “You think so?” Lee wanted to believe him.

  “She’ll be upset when you tell her, but she can’t make you practice medicine—on whites or blacks—if you don’t want to.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll lose her and Linc.” Saying the words made Lee sick with dread.

  “She’ll be angry. She has a right to be. I don’t like people lying to me—”

  Lee’s pulse raced. “Jessie and Linc mean everything to me!” Without them, I don’t have a life. He couldn’t say this out loud.

  “She’ll forgive you,” Caleb said it almost kindly. “You have to trust her.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll lose her.”

  “If you don’t tell her, you will lose her.” Caleb’s words, though spoken quietly, hit and echoed through Lee like a hammerblow.

  Jessie and her mother stood looking at Field & Leiter’s Department Store. Esther gave her a nervous smile. “It’s a very imposing, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t have to do this, Mother.”

  “No, Ruby is right. I must help myself.”

  “Very well.” Entering, Jessie escorted her mother to the store office, where a gentleman asked Esther to his desk for an interview. Jessie squeezed her mother’s hand. “I’ll go browse, but I’ll be back. I’ll meet you here.”

  Esther nodded timorously, then went with the gentleman.

  Jessie wandered through the aisles. With money so dear, she rarely let herself enter a store. Today would be a rare treat. In the millinery department, a hat on a mannequin head brought her to a complete stop. It was fashioned like a wing, reddish brown like oak leaves. It sported a pheasant tail feather over the crown and in front a delicate veil to draw across the face. Her fingers itched to lift it from the form and set it on own her head.

  “May I help?” A young, modish saleswoman approached.

  “No, I—I was merely browsing.” Jessie felt like she’d been caught stealing and had the urge to run out of the store.

  “Certainly, but wouldn’t you like to try that on?” The woman nodded toward the striking hat.

  “N-No, I really shouldn’t,” Jessie stammered.

  The woman scanned the nearly empty department. She smiled and said conspiratorially, “Why not try it on—just for fun? I’m not busy. Come sit down.”

  Jessie objected feebly but soon found herself sitting in front of an ornate vanity with trifold mirrors. The young woman removed Jessie’s worn bonnet and arranged the new hat on her crown, securing it with hat pins.

  The transformation in Jessie’s appearance was so startling for a few seconds, she couldn’t speak.

  “An excellent choice,” the saleslady murmured. “It brings out the warmth in your hair and eyes.”

  Jessie, unaccustomed to compliments, blushed. She half rose. The woman gently urged her back into her chair. “The effect isn’t complete yet. Allow me.” The woman reached into a drawer of the vanity and lifted out a large silk scarf of the same rich autumn hue, which she draped over Jessie’s shoulders.

  Her reflection as a staid widow vanished from the mirror. Looking back at her was the image of a comely, young woman with russet-tinged brown hair. She gasped, “It doesn’t look like me.”

  “I’ve seen this happen before. When a woman has been in mourning for a year or more, she forgets how she looked in colors. Have you been in mourning for more than a year?”

  Jessie nodded. Six years.

  “Out of respect for the loved one, it’s difficult to leave off mourning clothes, but your loved one would want you to go on living. You are young and attractive. It’s time you let it show again.”

  The words sank into Jessie’s mind and heart like misty rain on a dry garden. Inside, a tight clasp—which had trapped her spirit—swung open. A thrill of pleasure shimmered through her. “How much is this?”

  “Only one dollar and seventy-five cents. A bargain.”

  “Oh.” Jessie’s voice fell. “I don’t have that much with me.”

  “We have an easy time-payment plan. Merely put down fifty percent and then you can make a few weekly payments and it’s yours.”

  Jessie’s conscience balked, but one glance at the reflection in the mirror silenced it. “I’ll take it.”

  As she watched the saleslady wrap the hat delicately in tissue paper and tie it up in a charming mauve hatbox striped with gold, she felt free, airy. In her whole adult life, this was her first extravagance. And Lee came to mind. “Where is Gentlemen’s Finer Attire?” she asked.

  The saleslady handed her the ribbon-handle of the box. “Upstairs.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m happy you found such a flattering hat. I hope you’ll let me serve you again.”

  With quick, light steps she ascended the marble and mahogany staircase. When she topped the steps and scanned the second floor, she located the gentlemen’s department easily, but she did not see Lee. She walked among the mannequins, displaying men’s suits that fit the description of Gentlemen’s Finer Attire. Then she saw Lee just beyond her in the aisle.

  Jessie felt herself beaming. She paused behind two mannequins, trying to decide why she’d sought him. She hadn’t seen him since she left him the night before in the goat shed. When he hadn’t come home by morning, she had worried in spite of herself.

  Before Jessie could come out from behind the mannequins, a tall, elegantly dressed woman glided up to him. “Leland, is it really you?”

  “Eugenia! Sister!” Lee exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I surmised that Chicago might be where you’d gone to start over. So when Mrs. Field invited me here to consult with her about charity
work, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to try to discover if I were right and how you were.”

  “Charity work?”

  Jessie echoed his question. Her mind frantically tried to make sense of this.

  Eugenia continued, “If you had been paying any attention to your family in the last six years, you would have known I’ve made myself one of the foremost women in the nation—”

  “Yes, yes, Eugenia, I’m sure you have. Did you really come looking for me?”

  “Yes, but I never expected to find you without even trying. I had asked Mrs. Field about doctors here, trying…Good heavens, Leland, you don’t work here, do you?”

  Doctor. Jessie’s temples throbbed. He couldn’t be.

  “Yes, sister dear, I am employed here in Gentlemen’s Finer Attire.”

  “Leland, with all your education. Couldn’t you find something more appropriate?”

  “I told you in Boston, I will never practice medicine again.”

  He is a doctor. Jessie clutched the hatbox ribbon with both hands. Dr. Smith?

  “Very well. Father and I never understood why you wanted to be a doctor.”

  “That is old news, sister.”

  Not to me, Jessie wanted to shout.

  “How’s our esteemed father?”

  “I don’t know why you never could get along with father—”

  “Eugenia, do we have to go over ancient history? How long are you going to be in Chicago?”

  “Just another few days. Tonight the Fields are hosting a soiree in my honor at the Hotel Tremont.” A self-satisfied smile lifted Eugenia’s long, plain face.

  “Indeed?”

  “Yes,” Eugenia lowered her voice, “and though I realized Mrs. Field invited me to advance socially, I’ve found her to be not quite as gauche as I had thought she’d be. And Mr. Field is quite droll.”

  “I thought so myself.”

  “Do you know him?” Eugenia’s eyes widened.

  “He interviewed me for this job.”

  Eugenia put her hand to her forehead.

  Jessie felt like screaming at the patronizing woman.

  “Don’t worry, sis. I’m using the name, Mr. Lee Smith, not Dr. Leland Granger Smith.”

  “Thank goodness!”

  Lee chuckled. “And I’m afraid I will be unable to attend tonight’s soiree. My evening clothes are still in Boston.”

  “Your regrettable sense of humor, Leland.” She shook her head at him.

  Alternate flashes of heat and cold coursed through Jessie. How could Lee be Dr. Leland Granger Smith, her Will’s best friend? She’d read Dr. Smith’s name on the death lists, but there’d been so many mistakes on those lists. Dr. Smith hadn’t died. Giddy, she was afraid to move for fear she’d faint.

  “You should give me your address in case I ever need to get in touch with you.”

  “Send any letters here to Lee Smith. If I quit, I will leave a forwarding address with the office.”

  “Very well. Oh, did you locate your friend Will’s widow?”

  A silent gasp caught in Jessie’s throat. It was all true.

  “Yes, I did. I’m staying at her boardinghouse.”

  Looking over her brother’s shoulder at a large, free-standing mirror, Eugenia adjusted her hat. “And how about her poor little son?”

  Jessie’s face flamed.

  “He’s not a poor little boy. He’s great lad.”

  “Of course.” Eugenia glanced at the gold pendant watch that was pinned to her gray bodice. “I’m sure they are grateful for your help.”

  Lee spoke stiffly, “So far Mrs. Wagstaff won’t accept any money from me.”

  “A charity case with foolish pride. Ah, there is Mrs. Field.” Eugenia wagged one finger to another well-dressed lady and turned away from Lee. “Goodbye, brother.”

  “Miss Smith,” Jessie overheard the other lady say. The rest of her sentence was lost to Jessie in her welter of emotions.

  Now she knew this man was Will’s unlikely best friend, Dr. Smith, son of a wealthy Boston banking family. Dr. Granger had defied his family by taking up medicine, then by enlisting as an army surgeon. And this man’s sister thought of her and Linc as just another “charity case.” Foolish pride? Her face flaming with outrage and shame, Jessie whirled away down the steps.

  The nearby church bell tolled six times. Though the sunlight was deepening into dusk, the heat of the long day was undiminished. Jessie, alone on her front porch, paced.

  “Jessie, what is it?” Her mother finally returned from Field & Leiter’s.

  Jessie halted, wringing her hands. “How did your interview go?”

  “I’m glad you didn’t wait for me. I started in Infant’s Wear immediately. I love it.” Then Esther came up the porch steps. “What is the matter, Jessie?”

  “Nothing—”

  “Look at your hands!”

  Jessie glanced downward and immediately let her hands drop to her sides. “Please go in. Tell Susan to go ahead and serve dinner without me.”

  “Jessie?”

  “Please, Mother.”

  Esther paused at the front door to cast a worried glance at her daughter. With a shake of her head, she left her.

  Back and forth, Jessie paced, her hands knotted together and pressed to her mouth. She waited for Lee.

  “Mama, why won’t you come to supper?” Linc appeared beside her.

  “Lincoln, it’s nothing you need to be concerned about—”

  Lee sauntered around the corner of the block, headed right for them. Jessie panicked. “Lincoln, you must go in now.” She pushed him toward the door, but, seeing Lee approaching, Linc struggled against her.

  Lee walked up the steps. “Lincoln, if your mother wants you to go in, do so immediately.”

  The boy ceased struggling and the door closed behind him. “What is it, Jess? You’re upset with me, but—”

  “Upset?” She forced her voice to stay low. “I’m incensed. Why didn’t you tell me you were Will’s friend, Dr. Smith?”

  Lee’s mouth opened in shock.

  “You’re a doctor and you knew how I needed one! How could you keep still?”

  “How…how—”

  “Today at Field & Leiter’s I saw your sister—and heard her. Foolish pride.” Her face burned again. “Yes, I suppose I am only a charity case to you, but, at least, I know how to tell the truth.”

  “Jessie, listen—”

  “Your valise is here and inside is the money you paid for next week. Don’t come back.” She spun away from him through the front door, shutting it firmly behind her.

  “Mama, no!” Linc’s voice called through the door.

  Hearing Linc’s frantic pleas, Lee stood, petrified, his mind blank. Slowly, slowly, he became aware again of Jess’s door shut to him. From his memory, a deep voice spoke weakly, “Take care of them, Lee. They’ll need you.”

  Lee whispered, “I’ve failed you again, Will.”

  Chapter 15

  Returning from Sunday evening service, Jessie and Esther mounted the front steps. Strong currents of hot wind swirled around them, catching and flaring the hems of their skirts. “Where did this hot wind come from?”

  A sudden gust kicked Esther’s bonnet forward, so that it fell over her eyes. “Oh, Mother!” Jessie pressed her hand over her mouth, suppressing a chuckle.

  “Go ahead laugh at your poor mother.” Esther giggled as she righted her bonnet. “I’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to really laugh.”

  “Mother, I…” Jessie paused and stared as though looking far away. When she spoke, her voice held a quality of wonder. “Cherries all around me on the floor. Cherries in my mouth and we’re all laughing. What does it mean?” She looked to her mother.

  Esther said with hushed awe in her voice, “I can’t believe you remembered that. You were only a toddler. I’d picked a pan of sour cherries for pie.” She took Jessie’s hand. “Your father called me outside. When we came back, there you sat, the pan upside down and che
rries all over you. Your cheeks bulged like a greedy chipmunk’s. Your father and I laughed until we couldn’t laugh any more.” Esther wiped tears from her eyes. “Fancy you remembering that tonight.”

  “Mother, I love you.”

  Esther hugged Jessie to her. “Daughter, I love you, too. These past few days have been difficult, but they’ve given me the chance to be close to you again and to Linc for the first time.”

  “Oh, Miss Jessie, Miss Esther, what we gone do?” At the door, Ruby was twisting her apron with nervous hands.

  “What is it?” Jessie asked.

  “Your boy finally come back after you been gone. I give him a good scold for missing church and sent him to his bed like you told me.”

  “What has happened?” Esther asked.

  Ruby twisted her apron more. “A while and I goes to check on him. He gone, left this paper on his pillow. What it say?” Ruby pulled a scrap of paper from her apron pocket.

  Jessie read the scribbled message aloud, “Mother, I’m going to find Mr. Smith. Linc.”

  Though Jessie stood, she felt as though she were falling down, down.

  “Now, Jessie, boys do this,” Esther spoke up. “We’ll find him. Ruby, is Susan home yet?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Then you stay here to tell her what has happened. Jessie, you go through the neighborhood. What was the name of that saloon where Mr. Smith worked?”

  “Linc wouldn’t go there,” Jessie objected.

  “He might,” Esther said. “Maybe Linc thinks someone there would know where Mr. Smith is.”

  “The Workman’s Rest,” Ruby supplied. “I heard that redhead yell it all the way in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can!” Esther hurried down the front steps.

  “Mother!” Jessie called after her. “Be careful!”

  The increasing wind carried her mother’s response back to her. “Of course, dear!”

  Jessie dashed down the steps. Calling Linc’s name, Jessie ran through the neighborhood, stopping at every house. Near desperate tears, she ran down every alley and every street within a square mile around Wagstaff House. The wind blowing harder, harder, Jessie finally returned, bursting into the kitchen. “Is Linc here?”