Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

Dr. Sumner Delano

Rose and Beryl bring Marie to me at around five o'clock. They enter and hang up their belongings. Her lips are white with anger when she takes off her mask. They'd apparently given her an earful, but that seems to have made her dig in.

"Good afternoon, Marie." I greet her as I normally would. "We should have a talk. Come back to the kitchen."

The three of us usher her inside. It's late enough for me to offer drinks. I pour two fingers of acquaintance whiskey for each of us, and we sit at the table. Marie looks out the window. Dust swirls in little eddies over the street.

"I suppose you still feel the way you did last night."

"I do," she says loftily.

"You think I'm a?—"

"Oh, no, Doctor Delano." She looks my way to interrupt me. "You couldn't be like that man. He's the sort that wants to destroy decent, naive men. You need our protection, not our condemnation."

"You're wrong, Marie." I said I'd be able to weather this storm, so I might as well let it blow. I'm angry now, and it's this woman's bigotry they set everything off. "You see, I am not a decent man by your definition, nor am I naive. Doctor Hamilton isn't the first man in my life. He is a man of character, and I'm proud to call him my friend. I don't need your protection. I have always been this way, and I can't change that. I wouldn't even wish to."

If anything, Marie goes paler. "You can't mean that. It's a sin. You must stop this line of thinking before it's too late."

"Is that what you told your brother?"

Her eyes harden dangerously. "Where would he'd be now if we hadn't stepped in. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord."

"Is your brother living happily?" I ask. "With his wife?"

She lowers her eyes. "My brother is afflicted with many weaknesses, and we can only help so much."

"Weaknesses besides being with men?" I'm not surprised to hear it. "How is he otherwise afflicted?"

"You're mocking my family," she says with quiet dignity. "I would never have expected such a thing from you."

I take a sip of my drink. Rose and Beryl seem frozen in place, uncertain. There's probably nothing I can do to make this right, but I am determined to have my say. "I would never mock someone who is going through hard times. What other weaknesses? Does your brother drink? Take laudanum? Does he harm himself?"

She gasps in shock and disbelief. Her expression asks, how can he know about that?

I should tell her I get messages from the great beyond.

"I've known a lot of men like me and women too. They're told their natural desires are flawed, perverted, and sinful. They're told it's a choice and an illness. They're committed to institutions and given unproven medical treatments that would make your hair stand on end."

"To save them!" She fists her hands on the table. "To show them they don't have to follow base instinct into sin."

Rose hesitates before saying, "Marie, animals of every species in the animal kingdom mate with others of their gender, sometimes for life."

"We're not animals !" Marie shouts the word. "We're made in the image of God. We have a free will to choose to be like Him or like an animal. To be a righteous person or debauched or a drunkard, or?—"

"We don't have to argue about this," I cut in. I hold my glass and swirl its contents while I try to get a grip on my temper. I'm losing control, but I'm not certain I care anymore. "I disagree with you. I'm not saying that we should agree to disagree. I'm saying you're wrong, to put a fine a point on it."

"Doctor!"

God, she's shrill.

"No, let me speak." I raise my hand. "I know who and what I am, Marie, far better than you ever will. I feel nothing but compassion for your brother, who buckled under your family's disapproval and is now probably miserable due to unnecessary, ill-placed shame."

Her eyes glitter, but she's speechless.

"Shame on you for thinking to enforce the Creator's rules when they were codified by men who sought to organize society to their exacting standards two millennia ago. Shame on you, Marie, for driving your brother into a sham marriage."

"Doctor Delano, please." Marie can't be dissuaded. "Listen to me. It's for the sake of your soul?—"

" I will look after my soul, Nurse Palmer." I haven't called her that since she came on board five years ago. "As I am most likely to be affected by my actions, I will be the one to choose them."

Her eyes are flinty now. More determined than ever. It seems I have waved a red flag at a bull, and he's pawing the ground in preparation to strike. "You forget Doctor Hamilton is the person who caused this, and he will be the one to suffer from closer scrutiny."

I've been so busy talking about what I believe, I forgot that her target was Luke all along.

"Who is he really, Doctor Hamilton?" she asks. "Where did he come from? He appeared in the middle of the night half-dead, and despite what you say, he doesn't have the first idea about modern medicine. He talks about this daughter, but it's clear from the way he pants after you, he's the kind to lie with men."

"Why can't he have a daughter?" I don't know why that's the thing that sticks out. Rose hides laugher behind her hand. Beryl looks away.

"Because…he lies with men." Marie sputters.

"Oh, sweetheart," Beryl wraps her arm around Marie. Though she tries to pull away, I think Marie needs the affection. "People can have lovers of both sexes."

Rose finishes her drink and puts her glass down with a clack. "Dr. Sumner isn't the naive one. You are."

"Marie is not naive. She's ignorant," I say. "She's listened to her parents and her pastors and done her reading in the scriptures, and she's come to these conclusions honestly."

"Thank you," she whispers. She's stopped struggling against Beryl. Does that mean she's losing steam?

"You're not Catholic, are you?" I ask.

"No," she sniffs.

"When I treated a dying Catholic soldier, I called a priest, because I knew that's what he would have wanted me to do. But I'm not a Catholic, and I wouldn't ask for last rites. I don't believe their church has the right to tell me how to pray."

"And you choose immorality?" God it's like she's got one card and she plays it every hand.

"I choose to live by my code. You can call that whatever you like." I am done with this argument, and I need another drink.

I'm so disappointed. I thought Marie was a friend. How did I miss all that self-satisfied piety?

"Nurse Palmer, I invite you to say anything you like about me. However, if I hear you've let one malicious word slip about Doctor Hamilton, I will exercise the full might of my social standing, my money, and my family name to see you destroyed. Do we have an understanding?"

She looks sick and stricken. "Yes, sir."

"Well, I guess I'm going to Hell." Rose pours herself and Beryl a liberal second drink. "Because if I hear you've said a word about any of us, I'll tell everyone you thought you were going to marry Doctor Delano, and when he spurned your advances, you decided to ruin him."

"I won't mind Hell." Beryl knocks her glass against Rose's. "Everyone I care about will be there. By the way, Marie. I took your diary while you were getting dressed. Don't test me."

Marie grips the edge of a table until her knuckles turn white. Finally, she stands. "I'll need a ride to the train station."

Rose says. "Fine. We can keep going and bring Dr. Hamilton home."

Yes. Let's bring Luke home. I love the way that sounds. Beryl places her hand over mine.

"Have you heard the saying, Dr. Delano? Home is where the heart is."

I'm too overcome to say anything. I cover my eyes with both hands and it takes Rose bringing me a towel, and Beryl patting my shoulder and saying, "There, there," several times in a bored monotone before I can clear my throat and thank them.

"You two are wonderful." I squeeze Beryl's hand.

"Unfortunately, the train isn't leaving until tomorrow morning." Rose finishes her second drink and sets her glass on the table decisively before rising and walking Marie to the door. "For now, consider me your very best friend, because I'm not leaving your side until you're aboard and on your way."

Marie jerks away. "You should both be ashamed of yourselves for condoning that man's behavior."

"And yet I feel perfectly fine," Beryl drawls. "Must be because I'm not from Backwards, Indiana or wherever you grew up."

"That's enough, Beryl," I say as the two women leave.

She giggles. "Is it really?"

"Are you drunk?" I never imagined Beryl could giggle. She doesn't seem the type.

She flushes. "I might have had a li'l brandy before we came. Rose says I'm a lightweight."

I concur. Together, we raid the pantry. There's peanut butter and apples and some of Mrs. Andersen's homemade jam. I stare at it for a long time.

"I wonder if Mrs. Andersen would give me jam if she knew." I hand Beryl the jar. "Luke says some people don't have the same prejudices where he's from."

Rose finds a half loaf of bread. "Where is he from?"

I hesitate. "That's not my story to tell."

She nods as she cuts thick slices. We use the toasting rack. Watching her light the stove, I can't help picturing the two of us in a domestic arrangement.

I like the company of women. I could have made a marriage of convenience. My family even suggested a society girl or two they called "tomboys" who preferred their own sex, and it might have been convenient to ally myself with one of them, but I always refused. There are grandchildren enough to carry on the family name, and I had my work to satisfy me.

I felt I'd be letting myself down—my heart, my soul, my creator—if I were to play pretend husband, even with a girl who's in on the scheme. Then Philip came along and the influenza, and I shut the door on love completely. Until Luke.

"I could not have imagined a day like today." I take the apples to the table in what suddenly seems like a too-serviceable kitchen. Maybe it needs curtains? A fresh coat of paint? What they call a woman's touch? What must it be like to be part of the two-by-two on Noah's ark crowd. Do I wish things were different? Maybe I used to. Not since I met Luke.

"What part?" Beryl watches the toast to keep it from burning while I cut and peel apples. "The jealous nurse who turns her back on you and threatens to ruin your life?"

My cheeks burn. "Actually, I didn't imagine that you and Rose would come to my rescue like you did."

She uses a tea towel to pull the rack from the fire. "You didn't think we'd stand up for you?"

"I didn't think you'd understand." I'm suddenly ravenous. Have I eaten since that strained breakfast with Luke and Rose? Beryl spreads a thick layer of peanut butter on the hot bread. I spoon jam on each piece. We eat our sandwiches open-faced with peanut butter and jam dripping on our chins and coating our fingers.

I must be giddy with relief, because I couldn't care less.

Beryl sweeps a few crumbs onto her hand and returns them to her plate. She picks up a slice of apple and takes a bite. "I had two fathers."

"What?" I don't know what she means by that.

"Mother died. Then my uncle— " She puts stress on the word. "—moved in. He helped raise me. I thought they were good friends, but later, I heard people in town talk about them."

The other kids must have tormented her. Anyone different gets culled from the herd pretty quickly in grade school. "Was it awful?"

She shrugs. "Yes and no. They didn't sleep in the same room, but I knew they loved each other. I caught them kissing a couple of times."

"How did you feel when that happened?" I'm thinking of Sophie. She must know her father prefers men. How would she react if she saw her father kissing…someone?

Beryl picks up another apple slice and winces after biting into it. They're tart and hard, but they make a nice contrast to the sweet jam. "I wanted to be liked and treated kindly by people, but bullies always find a way to pry out your secrets. My father and George were happy. We were happy. I didn't always feel lucky did back then, but I do now."

"Thank you, Beryl. You have no idea how much your friendship means to me."

"Likewise, Dr. Delano." We make a silly toast with our apple slices.

After Beryl left, the clinic felt extra empty. It echoes with voices, arguing about religion and sin and whether people have the right to choose what they want. I feel sorry for Marie's brother. I wish I could do something for him. No one should have to remake themselves for love.

That was one disaster averted. Was it going to be this easy?

Having staunch allies in Rose and Beryl is unbelievable good luck. They could just as easily have sided with prevailing public opinion. I know now why Beryl is so kind. I wonder why Rose was so determined to speak on my behalf. Even if I'm not out of the woods yet, I think I impressed on Marie that Luke is off limits. I won't hesitate to throw my weight around if she tries to hurt him.

That was a promise, not a threat.

Once I get Luke back in my life, I will reevaluate everything. I will see to it that we can be safely together, even if we have to go to the uninhabitable end of the earth to do it.

The following morning, only a handful of people wait outside the doors when Beryl and I open. We see to their nagging coughs. Two children, bedraggled and pitiful, are mucus faucets, but there doesn't seem to be infection present. Woe betides them if they're sensitive to dust. We give them masks to wear and tell them to drink plenty of water or tea.

The adults we see have been holdouts who have suffered in silence until they were unable to work due to exhaustion or they have more worrisome symptoms—high fevers and labored breathing.

One old woman had to be guilted into coming by her daughter and grandchildren. She doesn't trust doctors, but it's clear she'll go downhill without intervention of some kind. Her family agrees to take her to the hospital in Dalhart, Texas because they have family there.

By then, it's time for me to take Marie to the train station.

I don't want another confrontation with Marie. Fortunately, she's waiting outside the boarding house with Rose, satchel packed and ready. Her eyes are dry but rimmed with red. She doesn't reply when I greet her. If the only thing today brings is frosty silence, I'll take it gladly. It's sad to lose a friend, but Marie doesn't know me. She has an idealized version called Dr. Delano in her head. It's better that she lets go of her fantasy before something irrevocable happens.

After I approach the window and pay for Marie's ticket to Chicago, I give her an envelope with a check containing her earnings plus a sizable bonus and a letter of reference.

The unpleasantness yesterday has colored my perception of the time we spent working together. It never once occurred to me that she harbored hopes of being more than colleagues. If it had, I would have put an end to them gently but decisively. Her affection for me most certainly contributed to her mistrust and eventual vilification of Luke. I ache for her if she thought there could be more between us.

I'm angry, too. She's a nurse, not a child or a debutante whose only job is to make an advantageous marriage. She's seen more of humanity in all its glory and wretchedness than that. She's seen people who spend their lives in in substandard conditions, grow sick, and die. She's seen what becomes of the body after death. She knows how short life is and how futile it can be. I should think the promise of paradise if only we're good boys and girls would ring as hollow to her as it does to me.

"Marie," I can't get her to look me in the eye, so I say what I must to her profile. "I hope that someday we can both look on this as a misunderstanding. Maybe then we'll see each other with a fresh perspective. Perhaps a little distance will close the gap in our tolerance of each other."

Her cheeks color. "The sin of sodomy isn't something we will ever agree on. You choose to live in opposition to the laws of God, Doctor Delano. Unless you recognize your error and repent, I'm afraid the time will come when you regret it. You will wish then that you had listened to a friend who only has your best interest at heart."

"Goodbye then, Marie." I reseat my hat on my head. "Safe travels."

She turns away, and I go back to the car. Rose and I leave for the Red Cross hospital shortly before noon. According to Mr. Andersen, the drive takes about two hours.

At first, the breeze gently blows tumbleweeds past at a leisurely pace. It feels pleasant with the windows open. About twenty-five minutes in, we have to close the windows to keep the dust out.

"I should attach the chain." I stop the car on the side of the road. Rose gets out to stretch her legs and probably to make sure I'm doing things right as well. I open the trunk and attach a length of chain to the bumper. The air is so full of static already, I get a snappy shock when I close the trunk lid.

Rose points out the thick wall of dust clouds building to the north. "They call them black rollers here, did you know that?"

My heart sinks, and I wonder if we should turn back. "Do you think this duster will hold off long enough to make it there and back?"

"This wind is blowing pretty hard."

Right now, we're in the middle of nowhere. It's not too far to the Red Cross hospital, but coming back will be a problem. I'm worried about losing sight of the road and driving into a ditch or crashing headlong into oncoming traffic.

"I wouldn't want to drive in it." Rose puts her hand on my shoulder. "I know you were hoping to bring Doctor Hamilton back today, but maybe it will be clearer later."

"I'm sure it will clear up by tomorrow. One day isn't so much to wait if it's safer."

My disappointment must show on my face, because as she opens her door and gets into the passenger seat, she says, "Come on, now. He'll be all right."

"I know." As I make my way around the car, I nearly lose my hat to a sudden gust of wind. I catch it and slide gratefully inside.

"You're not afraid you'll lose him to another doctor?" Rose gives my arm a playful thump.

"Hardly that." I rub my arm theatrically. "He left because he was worried about my reputation. I couldn't care less about that. He's not—" I stop before I say he's not from this world. Rose doesn't know how vulnerable Lucas is. I can't tell her, or she'll think we've both gone crazy.

"He's not what?"

"He's used to a life of luxury." Talk about the pot calling the kettle scorched. No one was more pampered than I was before I went to war. Those early days of deprivation and desperation were the stuff of nightmares. What Luke is going through hardly compares, but it must be equally disorienting.

We've barely turned the car around when grit starts to skitter against the windows. We made the right decision, but I'm not happy about it.

"You're worried he needs our help?" Rose shakes her head. "He'll get by all right."

"He's vulnerable." I'm being cagey here. "His head injury might be worse than I thought at first."

"Is he having memory trouble? Blurred vision? Balance issues?" I say no. She's silent for a time. "Marie has a point about his daughter. Does it seem to you he's lost interest in contacting her?"

"No, Luke would leave us without looking back if he could go to Sophie."

Rose frowns. "Is she with her mother? Does her mother forbid him to see her?"

I hate to think people judge him because he can't do the impossible. "I can't say."

"You can't say, or you don't know?" Rose hands me a mask. "Here, we need to wear these."

"I don't know, so I can't say." I hold the mask to my mouth while Rose leans over and ties it.

"If Sophie's mother is religious or she feels he cheated her because he's…the way he is, she might not let him see their daughter," she says. "It would be natural for her to feel wronged, but it's hard on a child to grow up without a father."

I glance her way. "Did you grow up without one?"

"My father wasn't in the picture. Did Beryl tell you she has two fathers?" She holds up two fingers in amazement.

"She did."

"The worst part about not having a father is how people treat your mother." Rose relaxes against the back of her seat. "You know how Marie judged you? People in town judged and gossiped about us like that."

"Your father was never part or your life?"

"Mother said he meant to be, but he was killed in some industrial accident before they could marry. Unfortunately, I was already on the way. Mother's family shunned us. She wanted to be included for a while, but then we moved from Charleston to Chicago when I was around eight. No one knew us there, so Mother became a respectable widow. We even had a photograph of a dapper man on the mantle to point to. She bought the frame secondhand. I guess the man came with it."

"That's a wonderful story." I laugh. "About the picture, I mean."

"I do wish I'd known my father." Rose swipes her fingers under her eyes. "Mother thought he was wonderful to the end."

"You lost your mother too?" What a lot of tragedy for one girl.

"Cancer." She brushes dirt off her skirt. "I nursed her."

"I'm sorry, Rose. That must have been very hard."

"I don't know about Beryl and Marie, but nursing helped me." Rose never talks this much. I'm fascinated. "People are made of flesh and blood and dreams. Some think we should all have the same dream and live the same life. I think we oughtn't be forced to live in any way that doesn't suit us."

"I believe you're right."

She glances away. "Does your family know about you, or do they still hope you'll start a family?"

"They know about me." Nobody talks about it, but it's understood. "I don't think they understand, but they've been kind. Eleanor has never treated me with anything but respect. I would walk through fire for her. You wait, someday she'll call on me to do just that, and I'll skip straight off to my doom."

"I like the First Lady very much, from what I know of her."

"Perhaps she'll visit, and you'll get the chance to know her better. She's a force of nature, but with a heart of true goodness. She'd be glad to know you, I'm certain."

We get back to the clinic before the worst of the duster hits, but it's close. I don't know how people live here. At least I know I have a choice. We put damp towels beneath the doors and make sure the windows and drapes are closed. That stops the worst of the dirt from getting in. At the height of the thing, you can't see the street from the front windows.

If I was a praying man, I'd send one heavenward. It does feel like the end of days. Instead, I open my heart to the man I've come to love in such an absurdly short time.

Never fear, Luke. I'll bring you home as soon as possible.

After that, I will never let you go again.