Читать книгу The Doctor's Undoing - Allie Pleiter - Страница 13

Chapter Five

Daniel was just sitting down to enjoy his weekly indulgence of an hour’s quiet reading before Saturday supper when the sound of yelling reached his rooms. He put down his book and cocked his ear, listening. No, it wasn’t yelling, it was crying. Girls crying. Several girls crying. Something was most definitely amiss.

Ignoring his disappointment, Daniel pushed himself out of his chair and made for the door. The cries were coming from the dining hall, where Mrs. Smiley and the girls ought to be setting out the dishes for supper. Had someone cut themselves? Was one of the girls ill? He started walking in the direction of the noise, half expecting to be ambushed by one of the children or staff coming to get him, but he met no one on his way toward the torrent of girlish tears.

Of all the things Daniel steeled himself to see, a flock of angry girls slamming down tin plates in tearful fits was not on the list. No one seemed to be injured, but each of the five girls on supper table duty that afternoon was crying.

“I want some,” the youngest girl moaned as she slapped a napkin into place. “Why can’t we all have them?”

Daniel scanned the room for Mrs. Smiley, hoping for an explanation to the sea of unhappiness swirling before him. He found her, two tables away, having angry words with...with Ida Landway. While Mrs. Smiley was easy to irritate on a good day, Daniel was at a loss for what Miss Landway could have done to not only raise the ire of Mrs. Smiley, but each of these girls, as well.

Dodging past a sniffling nine-year-old brandishing a fistful of forks, Daniel made for the teacher. “Mrs. Smiley, what has gone on?”

Miss Landway’s eyes snapped up at the question, and Daniel could see the nurse was upset. It wasn’t surprising; despite her cheerful name, Mrs. Smiley’s tongue could curdle milk when she got angry—he’d had to have more than one conversation with the woman about keeping her temper under control. When the older woman turned, however, Daniel’s jaw slacked.

Baby Meredith Loeman, the youngest occupant of the Parker Home for Orphans at just over a year old, wiggled a pair of bright pink booties at him from Mrs. Smiley’s arms.

“I don’t suppose I need to explain it to you now,” Mrs. Smiley snapped.

As if to drive the point home, wails of “I want pink socks” and “Why can’t Nurse Landway knit me socks?” and “I hate my socks!” surged up behind him.

The only thing stronger than the matron’s glare was the look of stunned regret in Miss Landway’s eyes.

“She hasn’t got a lick of sense, this one.” Mrs. Smiley cast a disparaging glance in Miss Landway’s direction. “Giving a trinket like that in front of all the girls.” She scowled at Miss Landway. “What did you think would happen when you did such a thing?”

“I...I...” The nurse looked at him, her eyes wide and startled. “It’s just a pair of socks.”

Daniel swallowed a weary sigh. This was why gifts were such a tricky business at the orphanage. But before he could explain that to Miss Landway, he needed to calm down the children. “Girls,” he began in his best “let’s all be sensible” administrative voice, “y’all are already wearing socks. Perfectly fine socks.”

“Perfectly dreadful socks!” Little Mary Donelley could always be counted on for a dramatic interpretation. “They’re plain old white and mine has a hole in the heel.”

He walked toward Mrs. Smiley, trying hard not to be charmed by the chubby pink legs wiggling pink booties. Most women he knew would be cooing and tweaking such pink-booted toes. The handmade booties were adorable little things that would have made for a very welcome sight—were they anywhere else but an orphan home. Why? The “I want some!” whine from behind him served as a painful example. No wonder Mrs. Smiley was completely uncharmed by Meredith’s clear delight in her present—the poor old woman was likely to have a tiresome evening as a result of Miss Landway’s innocent little gift.

Daniel held his hand out. “I wonder if I could take a look at those.”

“Gladly.” Mrs. Smiley plucked them off Meredith’s feet with a huff so loud even Daniel almost winced. Miss Landway certainly looked as if the sound pierced her ribs.

Daniel pocketed the pink socks and nodded in Miss Landway’s direction. “Why don’t you and I have a cup of coffee in the other room? Mrs. Smiley and the girls can finish up in here.”

Once inside the staff dining room, Miss Landway pulled the door shut behind her with one hand while the other went over her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

She looked as if she might cry, and Daniel was surprised at how deeply her regret touched him. It wasn’t right how unfair this place could be to anyone trying to make a difference. Daniel remembered how the need to do something—anything—for these children had nearly drowned him in his first days at the orphanage. He’d given a sweet to one of the girls when she’d banged a finger and found himself amid a similar storm of “Why can’t I have one?” howls.

He searched for something soothing to say. “It was a generous and kind impulse, Miss Landway.”

She slumped down on one of the dining chairs, distressed. “I had no idea it would cause such a ruckus. I just wanted to put a bit of cheery color...”

“I believe your heart was in the right place.” Daniel moved to the sideboard and poured two cups of coffee. “You simply need to learn how to channel such impulses into things that benefit all the girls without singling out one.” He held up a cube of sugar in a silent inquiry, and she nodded, parking her chin on one hand. “It’s one of the most difficult things about working here, and one of the reasons I asked you to clear any ideas with me.”

“They’re just socks.” Her moan sounded as if it could have come from one of the girls.

Daniel set the cup and a small pitcher of cream down in front of the nurse. “No, they’re not. How can I get you to see that?”

Miss Landway dumped a generous portion of cream into her coffee. The woman did nothing by halves, he was beginning to see that. “So I can’t do anything for one of them, I have to only do things that can be done for all of them?” She made it sound dreadful.

“I think what just happened should make that obvious.” He collected his own coffee and sat opposite her.

“But they’re individuals. Each of them is unique. Their differences ought to be celebrated, not ignored by making sure everything they have is exactly the same.”

Daniel remembered that urge, and felt a tinge of regret that practicality had squelched it out of him so effectively. “In a perfect world, I’d agree, but...”

Her eyes sparked. “But nothing. Don’t you go telling me we don’t live in a perfect world. That’s a poor excuse for not letting a baby girl wear pink booties.”

She was going to take some breaking in, this one. “I’m not saying Meredith cannot wear booties. But she cannot be the only one wearing pink booties.” He fished the pink things out of his pocket. “Make them all booties, or socks, or whatever—I’ve no objections to gifts as long as every girl receives them.”

“It’ll take me months.” He noticed her phrasing. She would do it. He could see it in her eyes.

He didn’t know where she’d find the time—he didn’t know how she’d managed to make the pair he now placed on the table between them. “When did you make these?”

She took a long sip of coffee, which gave him a hint of the answer. “I couldn’t sleep last night. Once I got the idea, I couldn’t sleep until they were done. This place is starving for color, Dr. Parker. Can’t you see that? I just had to do something.” She reached out and fingered one of the small pink fluffs. “They made Meredith so happy.” Miss Landway looked up at him. “And they made all the other girls so miserable.”

He couldn’t help but offer her a smile. “In your defense, it doesn’t take much in this heat. The smallest thing can set them off. Even Mrs. Smiley can lose her delightful charm.” That last remark surprised him—Daniel hadn’t joked about Mrs. Smiley’s dour personality in months.

“She is quite the heavy hand,” Miss Landway replied with a sparkle returning to her eyes.

“She is very good at what she does. Her job is enormous. If you don’t realize that now, you will soon. I’m not so sure her firm hand isn’t absolutely necessary in order to get things done.” He picked up his own cup. “Surely an army nurse can grasp that.”

Miss Landway smirked. It wasn’t an expression Daniel often attributed to women, but it applied in this case. “Not this army nurse.” She thought for a moment. “I’ll find a way, you know.”

“A way to what?”

She nodded toward the door. “To shower those girls in a rainbow of colored socks. You just watch. My mama always said I could teach a mule how to be stubborn.”

Daniel believed it. “Really?”

“If I can give each girl socks in as many colors as I can, provided they all get the same number of socks, do I have your permission to do so?”

He didn’t see how this would help, but then again he didn’t see how he could say no. “Yes. But only if your regular duties do not suffer and only if the gifts are equal for all.”

Miss Landway stuck out her hand. “Dr. Parker, you have a deal.”

He found himself shaking her hand. The odd feeling in the pit of his stomach forced him to add, “Miss Landway, what will you do if the boys want socks, as well?”

It was a joke, but she didn’t take it as such. She gave his hand a comically forceful shake. “I’ll just knit faster, Dr. Parker.”

Land sakes if he didn’t believe her.

* * *

Dr. Parker had been right—a weekend started with such discontent quickly dissolved into a marathon of unpleasantness. Ida prayed hard during the Home’s simple Sunday church service that her impulsive gift wouldn’t do much harm, but the lack of classes seemed to allow the children extra time to acquire cuts and scrapes, sore stomachs and aching heads. This was an altogether different kind of nursing care. While the army had been a flood of dire needs, Ida found her current post to be a wearyingly steady drip of little grievances. It required a particular sort of endurance—and a mountain of grace.

She was just cleaning up after the third queasy tummy of the afternoon—a particular torment in this heat—when Ida heard a rap on her door. Mr. Grimshaw towered over a feisty-looking boy of about eight, clutching him by the elbow so hard the lad looked like a marionette strung up by a puppeteer. It wasn’t until Ida let her gaze fall from the dizzying height of Mr. Grimshaw’s face that she noticed the boy’s bloody knuckles.

“Oh my,” she said, reaching for a basin and cloth. “Only one way to get those.”

“I imagine you’ve dealt with a badly thrown punch or two in the army.” Mr. Grimshaw nearly hoisted the boy onto the examining table.

“Usually they come in pairs,” Ida replied, peering at the boy’s angry scowl. “Where’s the other one?”

“Jake Multon is down the hall with Dr. Parker,” Grimshaw replied.

“He’s hurt worse,” crowed the boy, obviously seeing himself as the victor in the scuffle. “I hope he has the shiner for a...ouch!”

Mr. Grimshaw had pinned the boy’s good arm with his spindly fingers. “That’s enough of that. You’ll both be sweating it out in the laundry room for a week if I have my say.”

Ida couldn’t help but groan right along with the boy. In this weather, she couldn’t think of a worse punishment than standing over enormous vats of hot water washing the orphanage’s endless stream of dirty linens. “Maybe not.”

That raised one of Grimshaw’s bushy dark eyebrows. “And why not?”

Ida poured water into the basin and pointed downward, instructing the boy to submerge his bloody knuckles. The resulting yelp answered Grimshaw’s inquiry more effectively than any explanation Ida could offer. “Pain aside, young Mr....”

“Loeman. Tony Loeman.” The boy hissed his name through gritted teeth.

“Young Mr. Loeman here will run the risk of infection until the broken skin heals. So unless he can man the laundry vats with one hand, you’ll need to find another way for him to pay his debt to society.” She handed a cake of soap to the boy. “Scrub when you can stand it. While you’re at it, how about you explain what brought this on. Or does Mr. Grimshaw already know?”

To Ida’s surprise, both teacher and student gained a look of embarrassed reluctance at the question. Their expressions connected the boy’s name in Ida’s memory, and she stepped back to park a hand on one hip. “No.”

“Jake was making fun of Merrie’s socks.”

“While I admire your efforts to defend your baby sister’s honor,” Grimshaw chided, “slugging Jake Multon was a poor way to go about it.”

Ida felt as if the world had spun into ridiculous cyclones around one small act of kindness. “It was just a pair of socks!” she declared, more to the whole world than to her present company. She frowned at the boy. “You threw a punch over a pair of baby booties?”

“He started it.”

Ida looked up at Mr. Grimshaw. “How do y’all survive Christmas?”

“It ain’t much fun, but...”

“Scrub!” Ida cut Tony off with the command. She was beginning to see why the Parker Home for Orphans had run through its share of nurses. At this rate, she’d be apologizing clear through to Easter. “Mr. Grimshaw, would you step outside with me for a moment?”

Grimshaw gave Loeman a look that would pin a tiger in its place and then reached clear across the room to open the infirmary door with ease. “Of course, Nurse Landway.”

Pulling the door shut, Ida kept one eye on Loeman through the glass as she peered up to the teacher. “I’m dreadfully sorry to have caused such a ruckus, Mr. Grimshaw. Believe me, I had no idea the trouble those booties would cause.”

Grimshaw blinked, his face splitting into a smile that looked somehow alarming on his lanky features. “I thought it rather cute, truly. Seems a shame how a spot of kindness gets so poorly repaid.”

Ida hadn’t expected his reaction. “Why thank you, Mr. Grimshaw. But it seems to me you are doing the paying.” She cast a glance at Loeman, now wincing as he gingerly swiped the cake of soap across his knuckles. It stung, no doubt about that, but keeping wounds clean was absolutely essential in this moist heat. “I hadn’t thought about there being siblings in here.”

Grimshaw’s features softened further. “Loeman’s one of the sadder cases, actually. His pa’s been out of work so long they just couldn’t feed them any longer.”

Ida’s jaw fell open. “Do you mean to say Meredith and Tony’s parents are still living? They’re not actually orphaned but abandoned?” The thought practically knocked her against the hallway wall. “It’s a wonder Tony hasn’t slugged the whole world.”

“He’s working on it. This wasn’t his first fistfight. That’s why I came down so hard on him.”

Ida could only sigh and stare in at the poor boy. He looked her way for a fraction of a second—likely imagining she and Grimshaw were out here devising hideous forms of punishment—then returned to his painful task.

“I still think it was a fine thing you did. I know Mrs. Smiley will give you no end of grief for it, but I’m glad to see a kindness paid, no matter what the cost.”

After a weekend of awful consequences, the man’s encouragement warmed Ida’s sore heart. “It’s mighty kind of you to say so, Mr. Grimshaw.” She glanced up and down the hallway, again aware of how stark the buildings were. “I’m just so aching to put a dash of color into this place. Children should live in cheerful rooms, don’t you think? Happy, color-filled places?” It seemed an odd thing to say to a man who seemed a study in black and white every day.

“It’s a nice thought, Nurse Landway. Although I could have done with a little less red today.” He peered at a bloody smear on his cuff. “Do hope they can get this out in the wash,” he muttered to himself before returning his attention to Ida. “I must get back to the library, where the boys are learning chess. Please do send Tony back there when he’s done here. While the laundry may not be possible, I’m quite sure Mr. Loeman can play chess with one hand.”

Ida put her hand on the infirmary door. These boys needed some place to channel their energy, but she doubted chess was going to fit the bill. What a complicated minefield of a place the Parker Home was turning out to be. You’re going to have to help me find my way, Father, Ida prayed as she eyed the scowl still filling Tony Loeman’s face. This place makes the army look easy!