A Fall of Marigolds (19 page)

FOR
a moment I could only stare at the package in Mrs. Crowley’s hands, as if I feared that if I reached out to take it from her I would awaken from a dream.

Ethan moved beside me and I heard him inhale as he, too, realized what Mrs. Crowley was holding.

“You may as well take it,” Mrs. Crowley scolded. “I can’t tell him you won’t accept it. He’s gone.”

I slowly reached out my hand and Mrs. Crowley plopped the package into it, along with a folded note nestled under the ribbon.

“It’s against my better judgment to have allowed him to leave it for you, Nurse Wood. He seemed very keen on expressing his gratitude to you. You don’t have to keep it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

I pulled the package toward my body. “Thank you, Mrs. Crowley.”

I turned on my heel and sped away from her. Ethan fell in behind me.

“Clara,” he called after me.

When I rounded the corner into a corridor, away from Mrs. Crowley and her scrutinizing gaze, I leaned up against the wall. Ethan followed me, concern in his eyes.

I studied the package in my trembling hands, looking for signs that it had been opened and retied. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t think so. I slipped the note out from under the ribbon and for a second or two I could only hold it in my hand.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” I could tell Ethan was starting to figure out why I had reacted as I had in the cab. What he had done to me, I had nearly done to Andrew, in a far more blistering way.

But I didn’t want him to leave. His nearness as a strong outsider was empowering, as it had been all day, even in the cab when I wanted to slug him.

“You don’t have to go.” It was not the same thing as “I want you to stay.” He lingered, rather than stayed.

And then I opened the note in my hand.

Dear Nurse Wood,

Thank you for safeguarding my father’s pattern book while I was ill. I worried for nothing, as my trunk was returned to me this morning with all its contents intact. Surely you knew this would be the case, yet you did as I asked, even though it was not within the scope of your responsibilities. I realize now that what I asked of you could have resulted in disciplinary action against you, for which I would have been ever remorseful. My apologies for putting you in such a place when you merely wanted to ease my grief.

I would not wish on anyone my experiences of the last two weeks, but I am grateful to have been on this island, even as sick as I was, to learn to embrace with courage what God had determined I should bear. Had I not come through Ellis a widowed sick man, I would have come through it a widowed bitter man. I believe I have you to thank for reminding me that pictures on an urn, though lovely, are not real. Life is real, in all its complexity. And though it can be painfully difficult, it can also be unspeakably wonderful. I am forever grateful you saved my mother’s poetry book from the furnace that consumed my wife’s trunk.

I want you to have Lily’s scarf as a small token of my gratitude. You told me it caught your eye on the day we met, and that you thought it very pretty. I know you have walked a hard road, as I have. I trust the scarf will brighten your soul as it did for me, for the time that I held it.

Yours in sincere gratitude,

Andrew Gwynn

Tears had sprung to my eyes.

From the side, I saw Ethan rifling through his pockets, most likely looking for the handkerchief he’d loaned me once already that day.

“I forgot your handkerchief at the newspaper office,” I said, my voice shaky and childlike.

“Is it about that letter his wife wrote? Did he read it? Is he angry with you for having it?”

I shook my head and handed Ethan the letter. He read it quickly.

When Ethan looked up, he seemed relieved for me, but also sad—disappointed, perhaps, that Truth had been dealt a blow. Andrew Gwynn would never know the truth. And he’d left the island deceived—but full of hope.

I had pondered over many days what to do with Lily’s letter, feeling spectacularly ill equipped to decide what only Solomon would have the wisdom to decree, yet deciding anyway. I’d trod uninvited, not once but twice—when I took the letter from the trunk in which it would have been burned and when I tied it up in the scarf I now held in my hands—and providence had ridden in and intervened, relieving me of any notions that I held any destiny in my hands save my own.

“I guess he wasn’t meant to know,” Ethan finally said.

“No. He wasn’t.”

“Did Dolly and I make a mistake? With you?” He sought my gaze, and I read in his eyes his ready remorse.

I had known for less than a day that I understood nothing, really, about love, only that it was the most devastating, most spectacular, most desirable force on earth. It was far too powerful a thing to leave sleeping in an in-between place. Dolly and Ethan’s scheme had only precipitated the inevitable: that I would eventually leave the island hungry to love and be loved, even if it brought me to my knees again and again. I had done what I did for Andrew in the name of that same relentless love. He deserved to believe love was worth the flattening ache of grief. Love was both the softest edge and the sharpest edge of what made life real.

Ethan waited for my answer.

“I’m taking the job in Scotland.” The words tumbled out as if they’d been perched on my tongue since the moment my father had mentioned the offer.

Ethan blinked in surprise. “What did you say?”

I could hardly believe I had said it myself. But I had. It was as if the voice of reason inside me had risen up and taken over. Just saying the words seemed to throw open a door that had been at my elbow all along, though closed, and I’d chosen to see it as a wall.

“I’m taking the job in Scotland. I’m leaving the island.”

•   •   •

IT
took several minutes for Ethan to convince me to please stay a moment and explain what I meant. I agreed to coffee after he persisted. We made our way down the corridor into the staff dining room, filled our cups, and took seats in a room that was empty except for a few early diners who had evening shifts coming up.

“So just like that, you’re going?” he said.

“You were the one who said I needed to get off the island.” I took a sip of my coffee.

“You do need to get off the island at some point. I didn’t mean it had to be tomorrow.”

“It’s not tomorrow. It’s next month.”

“And I didn’t mean you had to leave the country. It’s like . . . it’s like a different kind of escape, isn’t it?”

“It’s nothing like that at all.” It had not occurred to me that it might appear as if I were trading one island for another. Even as I considered it, I shook my head. “I’m moving on. Like you said I should.”

He frowned at me. “It’s because of what Dolly and I did, isn’t it? You read that letter from Andrew Gwynn and you think we made a mistake.
I
made a mistake.”

I threw him a frown of my own. “It’s a little late to wonder if you did the right thing. I know you and Dolly meant well, but what does it change, my knowing that Edward was engaged to be married?”

Ethan studied me for a moment. “If I hadn’t taken you to the newspaper office today, would you have decided to take the job in Scotland?”

A few seconds of silence hung between us as I considered his question. I had no answer for him.

“Who of us knows what we would have done had circumstances changed and we had the chance to make different choices?” I said. “I honestly don’t know, Ethan.”

I pushed my coffee cup away and was about to stand when Dolly rushed into the dining room and over to our table.

“Good heavens, Clara. Mrs. Crowley said you were back already. I didn’t believe her.” She slid into the chair next to me. “Did everything go all right? Did you make it across? Did you see your father?”

“I saw it all, Dolly.”

“Saw it all?”

“Everything. I saw it all.”

Dolly looked from me to Ethan.

“I took her to the newspaper office. She saw the obituary,” Ethan said.

Dolly faced me again. Her voice was firm. “You needed to know, Clara. If you never speak to me again, I’ll say it to my dying day. You needed to know.”

“And so now I do.” The cynical edge to my voice surprised even me.

“I have no regrets about making sure you found out for yourself what Edward Brim was up to.” She whipped her head around to face Ethan Randall. “And don’t you go having any regrets either, Doctor.”

“I don’t,” Ethan said, but with only a measure of conviction.

“Good,” Dolly said defiantly.

“She’s taking a job in Scotland.”

Dolly laughed, a short little guffaw, and she turned to Ethan. He was not laughing and of course neither was I. Dolly swung back to face me.

“What’s this?”

“A friend of my father’s needs a private nurse for his ailing wife while they are in Scotland for a year. I’m taking the job.”

Dolly’s mouth gaped open. “Truly?” she said, after a moment’s pause.

“Yes.”

“That’s . . . that’s terrific, Clara. You’re really moving to Scotland?”

I sighed, as tired as I had ever been. I wanted to sleep for a week. But I answered her. “Yes.”

Her wide smile comforted me, strangely. “Well, hallelujah and amen, Clara’s getting off this hell of an island. Good for you. If I had champagne, I’d raise my glass. Good for you, Clara. When?”

My head was screaming for a pillow and a soft bed so that I could be alone with my thoughts. I didn’t care that it was so late in the afternoon that a nap would surely make sleep that night impossible. “Next month. Look, can I tell you all about it later, Dolly? I’m . . . I’m very tired. I’m going to go lie down.”

Dolly nodded. “Of course.”

As I started to rise, I pulled the package and note out of my lap and into my hands.

Dolly reached out her arm to stop me. “Good heavens, is that what I think it is?”

“Yes, it is.”

“But . . . but . . .” Dolly turned to Ethan. “Didn’t you give it to him?”

Ethan started to speak but I cut in. “Dr. Randall did exactly what you asked him to. Andrew Gwynn left it for me at the main reception area, unopened, as a thank-you gift. He knew I liked the scarf.”

“For the love of God . . . He didn’t read what’s inside!?”

“No.”

Dolly shook her head. “I give up. I do.” She pointed to what I held in my hands. “If I were you, I’d take that straight outside and throw it all into the river and good riddance. Been nothing but a damn nuisance since the day that Welshman arrived.”

I turned to Ethan. In spite of everything I still felt a rush of gratitude for how he had helped me reunite with Manhattan. But I needed time to come to terms with the newest jagged edge of grief over losing Edward. Ethan’s touching admiration for me was mixed up in that and I felt a desperate need to keep the two separate. “Thank you for escorting me to Manhattan today. I’m sorry you had to use one of your days off to do it.”

“Clara, please—”

“It’s been a very long day already and I just need some time alone.”

Whatever Ethan had planned to say before I interrupted him he left unsaid. Dolly spoke instead.

“Say! Let’s really celebrate, Clara! Come to the Jersey shore with me and the girls tomorrow! And we’ll drink champagne and eat toffee peanuts and go dancing. Say yes, Clara. Say you’ll come!”

“Fine. I’ll come.” I just wanted my bed.

Dolly hollered her delight and I turned from her to Ethan, who was sitting back in his chair, his eyes suggesting there was unfinished business between us.

“I meant what I said. I really am grateful for your help today,” I said.

He tipped his chin toward his chest. I could feel his gaze on my back as I left the room.

I
slept until dawn the next day and did not dream.

I didn’t hear Dolly come to the room after supper; nor did I hear her getting ready for bed later. I heard nothing at all after I laid myself out on my bed fully clothed, and closed my eyes.

I awoke to a rosy sunrise, feeling as if I had awakened from a spell meant to last forever. In our bathroom, I peeled my wrinkled clothes off and bathed, sitting long in the water, contemplating my future. I felt empty without Edward’s sweet memory to charm me. When I dried myself off and walked back into the room, Dolly was awake.

Her eyes grew wide when I dropped the towel and took my time selecting my undergarments.

“Well, aren’t you the confident girl today! Goodness, Clara. Perhaps you’d like a horse to ride around the island on.”

It took me a moment to realize my bare body was totally out of character for me. “Oh. Sorry.” I reached for my bathrobe on the chair back behind me.

“That’s more like you.” Dolly stretched and slipped out of her bed. “Don’t start doing too many things you’ve never done before. You’re likely to get carted off to the psych ward.”

I pulled my uniform out from the wardrobe and brushed a stray thread off the collar. Everything about the island, including my room, the uniform, even Dolly, seemed to be receding from me, as if I didn’t belong there anymore. I dressed and then drew out a piece of stationery from the desk Dolly and I shared. I penned a short letter to my father, telling him I was accepting the position with his professor friend. And then on impulse I wrote that I would be asking for a few days off to come home and say good-bye to Mother and Henrietta.

I was surprised at how quickly I was able to write the letter that seemed to chart a new life for myself. When I was finished I read it out loud so I could hear those words spoken, drifting on the air, words that said that I was taking the new job, resigning my post on the island, coming home, leaving for Scotland.

It suddenly sounded very much like I was escaping, just as Ethan had said. “That’s not what this is,” I murmured to no one.

“That’s not what what is?” Dolly had returned from the toilet.

“Nothing. Hurry up. I’m hungry.”

“That’s because you didn’t have dinner last night. I had to check you three times last night to make sure you were still breathing. I’ve never seen someone who wasn’t drunk sleep as hard as you did.”

“I was tired.”

“Obviously.”

I slipped the letter into an envelope and then into my uniform pocket to mail later. When I turned to get my hat off my bureau, Dolly was staring at me.

“I’m so glad you don’t hate me,” she said.

“Finish! I’m hungry.”

“And I’m glad you’re still talking to me.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want to talk anymore. I want to eat. Hurry up. Get ready.”

Dolly made no move to put her uniform on. “And I am very glad you are taking that job in Scotland. Really glad. Even though I will miss you. You don’t need to be here.”

Her kind tone was embarrassing me. “This place is good enough for you. And Nellie and Ivy. And Dr. Treaver.”

“And Dr. Randall.”

“Yes, and him.”

“It’s a great place for a job, if that’s all it is to you. But it was more to you than a job. And now it’s not. And I am very happy for you.”

I needed her affirmation. It was at once clear to me that Dolly had been as near to me as my own sister in the months I had known her. “Are you really?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Ethan—Dr. Randall says I am just looking for another island to escape to. This one’s just bigger.”

“Farther away, I think.”

“Yes.”

Dolly pulled on her uniform and began to button it. “Ethan Randall likes you, Clara. That’s why he may not want you to go. He likes you. He has from the very first day.”

“I don’t know why he does.”

She plucked her hat off her bureau and planted it on her head. “It’s because you have big breasts, of course.”

“I do not have big breasts!”

Dolly smiled back at me as she slipped on her shoes. “Well, then. He must like you for you.”

I didn’t want to talk about Ethan Randall anymore. I didn’t want to think about physical attraction, or love, or desire, or anything having to do with the opposite sex. “Are you ready? I am going to faint if I don’t eat.”

Dolly said nothing else and we started down to breakfast.

“I’m going to tell Mrs. Crowley this morning that I’m leaving.”

“That seems wise.”

“And I’m going to ask to be transferred to the inspection line at the great hall.”

Dolly turned to face me as we walked. “You won’t like it.”

“I think it will be easier to leave if I’m not in the wards when the month is up.”

She was thoughtful for a moment. “You don’t have to brush him off completely just because you’re spending a year in Europe. You could write letters, you know.”

But I didn’t want to imagine that I could possibly fall in love with Ethan Randall, or even that I might already be falling for him, when I would soon be separated from him. I still had lingering affection for the Edward I had created in my head. And Andrew Gwynn was also not far from my thoughts, much to my consternation. “I think . . . I think I need a break from all that.”

“Ha!” Dolly laughed. “My girl, you need to be dead to get a break from all that.
All that
is all there is.”

•   •   •

I
didn’t have time to give notice to Mrs. Crowley before my shift began on what I hoped would be my last day in the wards. I prepared myself for Ethan’s arrival for rounds, but Dr. Treaver appeared in the doorway at ten thirty. I knew I would run into Ethan again in the time remaining to me. I would see him in the dining hall, in the corridors, maybe even in the ferry house if I opted for more visits ashore. But I wouldn’t be Nurse Wood to him anymore, following him around with my cart and basin. I was Clara now, and he was Ethan. I was leaving. And he was staying.

I left the ward a few minutes before lunch to deliver my news to Mrs. Crowley, who was genuinely miffed to learn of my departure, but pleased I would still be around until the end of the month.

When I told her I wanted to spend my remaining time on the main island at the inspection line, she practically hugged me. No one liked that rotation. I used that joy to ask for a few days off to say good-bye to my family, and she grudgingly told me I could have the next five days off if I wanted them, but then I was to be hers until I left for good.

At lunch I broke the news to Dolly that I was going home for a few days and would have to back out on my promise to go to the Jersey shore with her and the girls. She extracted a pledge from me that I would spend my last Saturday night in New York with her and Nellie and Ivy, having fun her way.

I hurried to the telegraph office before my lunch break was over to wire my father that I was coming home, selecting the most important lines from the letter in my pocket, which now I would not send. Then I stopped by the ferry house to purchase a ticket for the first morning crossing so that I could catch an early train to Philadelphia and be home in the afternoon. I was keenly aware how amazing it felt to be buying a ticket for the ferry, knowing I probably wouldn’t be tempted to jump overboard and swim in a panic back to the island the moment the boat eased away from the dock.

I regretted how I had minimized what Ethan had done for me. I’d been so intent on making him feel bad for his part in the scene at the newspaper office, I hadn’t fully appreciated that he’d given me my life back. It was a new life, different from the one I had before I came to the island, and before I came to New York. But it was a life nonetheless, and I wanted to thank him for it. But I didn’t know how to go about it.

When my shift was over at the end of the day, and after I’d said good-bye to the little ones in the children’s ward, I met Ethan coming out of the typhus ward. He was finished for the day, too, and he would no doubt be heading to Manhattan for the evening.

We fell in step together. “Dolly tells me you’re headed home to Pennsylvania for a few days.”

“Yes. I leave tomorrow morning. I haven’t been home in almost a year. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed everyone until I bought my ferry ticket today.”

He nodded. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”

Impulsively, I reached for his arm, stopping him in the middle of the corridor. “I know I said things yesterday that were unkind and—”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. I’m a little mixed-up right now about . . . about a lot of things, but I do know this: I wouldn’t be able to get on that ferry tomorrow if it weren’t for you. I am truly grateful for that.”

I expected Ethan to politely minimize my gratitude, to tell me it was his pleasure to have assisted me, but he stared at me as if I had asked him a question he didn’t know the answer to.

And so I went on.

“I wanted you to know that, because . . . because I will be rotating to the main island after I return from Pennsylvania. I will be assigned to the inspection lines. And I will be there until I leave. So I may not have another chance like this one to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me.”

For another long moment he said nothing. It both surprised me and, strangely enough, pained me. I didn’t expect to have my gratitude thrown back in my face.

Then he reached for my hands, just as he had done on the ferry when I was nearly blinded with dread. “I’m so sorry for what happened at the newspaper office. And for the things I said on our way back to the ferry. I lay awake last night thinking about it.”

“You did?”

“I should’ve realized while we were still in the carriage that you were thinking about Lily Gwynn’s letter, not just that obituary. I’m sorry. And now you will be at the main island until you go. That is my fault. And I’m sorry for that, too.”

When no response rose to my lips, I looked down at my hands in his and he let go.

“I just wanted you to know that,” he said.

“I . . . thank you,” I stammered.

A few seconds of silence hung between us. “Will you be all right tomorrow morning?” he finally said. “Getting on the ferry, I mean?”

“I think so. Thank you.”

“I am meeting my brother in Midtown tonight—”

“Oh! Of course.” My cheeks flushed scarlet and I took a step back so that he could continue on his way.

“What I meant was, if I weren’t meeting my brother tonight I’d ride the ferry with you tomorrow morning—just in case.”

The heat on my face deepened. “I am optimistic, actually, thanks to you.”

He smiled. “Just remember to breathe.”

I laughed nervously. “I’ll try.”

We began to walk, an easy pace, unhurried.

“Promise me you will say good-bye before you leave Ellis?” he asked.

And I told him I would.