Awake Unto Me (12 page)

He shook his head and said, “Dear, it doesn’t matter. Let Kerry take care of it. It’s to save you trouble.” He returned to his book, letting her know she had been dismissed.

Laura gritted her teeth and left.

Friday evening, Addison was on edge at the party, as it was his first time to host the graduates’ reception. It was generally Dr. Bucknell’s task. He wanted to make the right impression, and the infighting between his wife and charge wouldn’t help.

He studied Kerry as she looked at the buffet critically.
She is handsome, to be sure, but without an iota of feminine charm. She’s intelligent but rough.

Kerry wasn’t tall but her carriage gave her the appearance of height. She was broad-shouldered and more wiry than slender. Addison remembered what she had looked like five years previously when she had shown up at his front door tired, dirty, and terrified. The wariness was still there in her dark brown eyes and perhaps always would be. She had worn her hair cropped as a youngster and never gave up the style in spite of Laura’s entreaties. The front doorbell chimed, jolting him out of his reverie. He went to greet his guests.

Laura stood beside Addison as the stream of guests flowed into their house. They lived in a newish neighborhood known as the Western Addition, as it was west of downtown San Francisco. It wasn’t nearly as grand as Nob Hill or Rincon Hill, but Laura made the best of it, using whatever money Addison gave her to fix up their home. And if Addison didn’t give her the money, she wheedled it out of her father. Addison was proud to have Laura as his wife. She was beautiful and gracious, the perfect hostess. He wondered briefly how to make life easier for her, but Beth’s arrival soon captured his attention.

Beth managed a shy smile as Addison introduced her to Laura as his “best student” and said, “She lives right here in the city. Her parents have a store on Valencia Street.”

“Shopkeepers. How quaint,” Laura said with a sugary smile before taking his arm and moving him toward another group.

Beth went to the buffet, hoping to occupy herself with getting food and then with eating it. She had never been to a buffet party like this and was unsure exactly how to manage eating without sitting at a table, though the delicious food was fairly easy to eat without utensils. She foolishly poured a cup of coffee before she put food on her plate. Someone jogged her arm and the coffee spilled down the front of her dress. Mortified, she knelt and used her napkin to dab the coffee staining the carpet.

“Here, let me take care of that.” Beth saw a hand on her arm and turned toward the voice. A dark-eyed young person held her gaze as she lifted her to her feet. It took a Beth a moment to realize her savior was female. She had short dark hair and wore trousers and a shirt with an apron over them.

“Come to the kitchen with me.”

Beth was too stunned to protest. The young woman took her arm, led her to the kitchen sink, and mopped the front of her dress with a kitchen rag.

“You’re making it worse,” Beth said, her embarrassment making her speak more sharply than she meant to. “You must just blot it, like this.” She stilled the woman’s hand. Their eyes met again, and the woman nodded and stopped.

Beth took the rag from the young woman’s hand and looked into her blazing eyes.

“Thank you. I can take care of this. Really. I’m grateful for your assistance but—”

“All right.” The woman seized another rag, wet it at the tap, and returned to the dining room to clean the carpet.

Beth came up behind her. “I’m sorry for making such a mess.”

The woman didn’t look up from her kneeling position and said, “Please don’t worry yourself. It’s nothing.”

“Here! What’s this?” Laura said, keeping her voice low.

“Mrs. Grant, I do apologize. I spilled some coffee and—” Beth said, contrite. She realized she didn’t know the dark-haired girl’s name, but Laura helpfully supplied it.

“Well, then, we’ll leave Kerry to it.” She grasped Beth’s arm firmly and led her away.

Laura kept Beth busy talking with the other guests, but finally she made her way back to the kitchen before she left the party. Beth vaguely wondered why Laura seemed to be keeping her away from Kerry, but she was embarrassed and felt she owed the strange young woman an apology.

“I wanted to thank you,” Beth said. “I didn’t get a chance to before. I’m sorry I spoke to you that way. I know you were only trying to help.”

Kerry was silent. She didn’t know what to say. In truth she wanted to beg the taller, serious-looking girl to stay and talk to her. She presumed she was a nursing student. She looked too young and too sweet to be anything else.

“What’s your name?”

“Elizabeth Hammond.”

“Do you have a nickname?” Kerry asked, with the hint of a smile.

“Usually people call me Beth.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you.” They both paused awkwardly.

“You’ll be done soon with training?” Kerry asked.

“Yes, in a few weeks we shall have exams.”

“Where will you go then?” Kerry asked, silently praying it wouldn’t be very far away.

“I’m not sure. I want a post in one of the hospitals here in the city. Of course it depends on if I pass my exams and upon the good opinion of the charge nurses at County Hospital.”

“I’m positive you’ll do fine,” Kerry said firmly.

Beth blushed. Very pretty,
Kerry thought, struggling with what and how to say what she wanted to. She didn’t want Beth to walk out of the house and never see her again. She wanted to know her.

“Would you—I mean, do you? Uh…” She faltered and stared at her shoes. Beth looked at her curiously.

“I usually go to Golden Gate Park on Sunday afternoons,” Kerry said, and paused.

Beth waited.

Kerry cleared her throat and asked softly, “Would you like to go with me sometime?”

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t. I must study for my exams. That’s my only free afternoon.”

Kerry’s spirits plummeted.

“But I suppose the fresh air would do me good.”

Beth smiled then and Kerry’s heart leapt for joy. “It would, I think,” Kerry assured her, nodding emphatically, still afraid she might change her mind. “I’ll come by with the carriage around one this Sunday.”

*

Every spare moment Kerry had, she observed the kitchen routine and watched the chef, the
sous
-chefs, and the cooks produce the French haute cuisine for which the Palace was famous.

After meeting Beth, however, she kept to the sinks and the dishes, needing the time to think. She said Beth’s name over and over again in her mind and silently formed it with her mouth:
Beth.
She formed the image of Beth behind her closed eyes and practiced what she’d say. She recalled reading
Romeo and Juliet
with Addison during their English lessons. She knew what she felt; she wondered what Beth felt. Did she feel the spark between them?

Beth, although she seemed mature, gave off a whiff of naïveté.
That would be expected. She’s no Barbary Coast pretty waiter girl. She’s a good girl, a quiet, soberly employed girl who would know nothing of love or of a person like me, the orphan daughter of a gambler and a whore. She wouldn’t likely want to have me as a friend even, let alone a lover.

Kerry silently gave thanks that the day was sunny and mild. Weather could be variable in the spring in San Francisco; storms could roll in off the Pacific with almost no warning. She’d been visiting Golden Gate Park from the moment Addison had trained her well enough to handle the horse carriage herself. They would drive out every weekend without Laura to accompany them; she was “at home” receiving visitors.

The park had become a refuge for Kerry. It was so different compared to where she’d grown up. She found the silence soothing when she came to the park during the week. It was more crowded on Sundays.

On the ride over, Kerry could see that Beth was ill at ease. She unconsciously picked at her dress and had trouble making eye contact. Kerry asked her questions about nursing, and by the time they made their way from the hospital to the park, Beth seemed more relaxed and Kerry felt relieved. After their unlikely meeting the week before, she was unsure of what to make of Beth; she only knew that she wanted to see her and to know her better.

“How is it that I never knew of this place?” Beth exclaimed. “It’s so beautiful.” She gazed around, taking in the scenery. They entered through the Fulton Street gate, past the two grand pillars, and down a small hill and around the Conservatory of Flowers to the main promenade.

“It’s not so old, I heard. They started the planting only twenty years ago. It was all sand dunes. You can still see them,” Kerry said as she watched Beth looking around with great interest. As they drove along the promenade, they could see, looking west, clear out to the ocean.

“You know of its history then?” Beth sounded surprised. She turned slightly toward Kerry, who faced forward to watch the road ahead as she drove. Kerry felt Beth scrutinize her, which was both welcome but unnerving. She tried to not let it bother her much, but it made her ears and cheeks feel warm. What would Beth’s judgment be?

“Yes. When I like something, I make it my business to learn about it.”

Beth’s eyebrows came up and she looked slightly skeptical.

“Mr. Olmstead, who designed the Central Park of New York, helped plan it.” Kerry looked away, suddenly embarrassed at her desire to sound smart. She focused on finding a place to stop and tied up the carriage horses near the Stow Lake boathouse in the middle of the park.

Beth took in her strong profile and her hands confidently holding the reins. She ignored the flutter of nerves in her stomach, attributing it to being out with a stranger.

She was content to have Kerry take charge of obtaining their boat, seating her in the bow, and rowing out to the middle of the lake. Boaters would make their way around an island, in the middle of which was Strawberry Hill, crowned by an observatory.

“We could come out some night to see the stars if you like,” Kerry said.

Beth held her straw hat against the westward breeze that had started up and watched Kerry row the boat steadily. She was strong and sure, her lightly muscled arms pulling against the shirt as she rowed, her expression serious and watchful. When she turned to look at Beth, she smiled and Beth liked the way her face lit up, making her glow.

“Stop here!” Beth commanded.

Kerry obeyed with a nod and pulled into shore near a stone bridge.

“I want to feed the ducks,” Beth said. They obtained some bread from a vendor, and Beth broke it into bits and tossed it into the water. Ducks circled the bread and flapped and squabbled.

“They’ll get fat and won’t fly if they’re not left to fend for themselves and find their own food.”

“I’m not feeding them that much,” Beth replied, a little stung. In the wards, she wasn’t used to getting questions from her patients, and the constant strict obedience she had to render the senior nurses chafed her.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Kerry said defensively. “I was just making a general comment. I meant no criticism.”

“Shall we continue, then?” Beth asked. “Continue rowing, I mean.” The slight disagreement and her reaction made her feel uneasy again.

“Yes, of course.” They got back in their boat and paddled for a while. Beth was quiet and looked around at the other boaters. Many were engaged just as she and Kerry were, but almost without exception a gentleman rowed each boat and his passenger was either a single lady or perhaps a lady with a small child. Beth suddenly felt self-conscious without knowing why.

“May we return the boat now?”

Kerry nodded and they returned to the boathouse.

“Let’s just walk for a bit,” Beth said. They strolled around the lake to the stone bridge and walked out on it and leaned over the side. Beth felt Kerry’s eyes on her.
She’s waiting for me to say something.

“I’m sorry. I was unkind to you.”

“It’s no matter,” Kerry said quietly.

“No, I’m not very good with people who aren’t sick.” Beth laughed a little. “I don’t have many friends.”

“No? Why’s that?”

“I suppose I’m too busy now. I have my schoolwork and we work in the hospital most days of the week.”

“What about when you were young?”

“Ah, well, I was working then too, in my parents’ store, or I was going to school and doing schoolwork. I had one friend. Theresa.”

“Where is she now?” Kerry asked, seeming curious.

Beth shook her head.

“What of you?” Beth asked suddenly.

“My best friend is Addison.”

“He is? But isn’t he your father?”

“Well, he is my guardian, I suppose, and he is older. That’s true. But he’s not my father. My father’s dead.”

Beth waited but Kerry said no more until suddenly she asked, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Yes, thank you.”

They strolled over to the Tea Garden. In the middle of Golden Gate Park a Japanese family, the Hagiwaras, had recreated a traditional Japanese garden for the Midwinter Fair of 1894, and it had proved so popular, the park kept it. With their cups of tea, Kerry and Beth ate the small almond-flavored cookies served with the tiny teacups.