Awake Unto Me (15 page)

Beth played, the notes flowing from her fingers. It was a slow, haunting tune with a few passages of rapid notes. Something about the melancholy yearning of the music seemed so perfectly suited to both of them and to the moment. This time Kerry looked hard at Beth’s face. She seemed to have gone into another world. As beautiful as the music was, Beth’s beauty moved Kerry more. If possible, she grew more beautiful as she played. Kerry stared; she couldn’t stop herself and her throat went dry. She focused on Beth’s lips. She closed her eyes and imagined kissing them.

As Beth played the last notes, she bowed her head and this time left her hands resting on the keys. Kerry moved as though she was under water. She put her hand on Beth’s cheek, turned her head so they were face to face, and kissed her. It was neither a short kiss nor a long one; it was gentle and not especially passionate, but it was unmistakably a lover’s kiss. Kerry was sure she felt Beth kiss her back before abruptly breaking away and closing the piano.

“You should go. It’s getting late.”

Kerry said nothing. She was too shocked by what she had done to say anything. She took her coat and shrugged it on. Beth walked down the long hallway and Kerry followed her automatically. Beth’s stiff posture frightened her.

“Shall I come by for you on Sunday?” Kerry asked, ready to fall to her knees and plead if necessary.

“Yes, of course.” Beth’s smile seemed a bit forced, and she didn’t look at Kerry. Her cheeks were a little pink.

Kerry nodded in relief. Beth closed the door with a muttered good-bye, leaving Kerry on the porch. She ran off quickly, unwilling to give Beth a chance to change her mind.
I did it. I kissed her.
She pressed her fingers to her lips and grinned.

*

Beth climbed the stairs and went back to Mr. Greenaway’s room to check on him. He was sleeping and she welcomed the chance to sit down and be with her thoughts. The room was dark, and the heavy drapes didn’t let in much light or much air. In the warm, close atmosphere, Beth, short of sleep as usual, nodded off a little. Her thoughts bounced around. It seemed as though her lips tingled slightly where Kerry had pressed them with her own lips for that brief moment.

I could come right out and ask her directly. She would answer. Then I would know. Do I want to know? What then? What do I feel?
She had accepted and returned the kiss at first because it felt real and normal and inevitable. But hard on the heels of those feelings was an urge to run and to deny. But she was clear about not wanting to hurt Kerry, who every time they met looked more bereft.
Well, not bereft exactly, but hungry. Part of me wants to find out what she hungers for. It seems to involve me. It seems I am being courted, but what does that mean?

Beth had listened to the other nursing students prattle endlessly about their beaus or even patients they considered eligible. Beth knew she had no interest in young men and accepted that, but here was a young woman, albeit a unique one, courting her and claiming attentions normally given to a young man. Kerry’s very appearance aroused interest. Beth had noticed looks whenever they were out together in the park, as her clothes and mien were that of a young man.
Yet, she is not. She is gentle, as women are.
Beth shook her head unconsciously, unable and really unwilling to reconcile Kerry’s contradictions. She drowsed until the family returned home.

*

The day before her cherished day out with Kerry, Mr. Greenaway passed away in his sleep, and Beth had to write a hurried note to Kerry, since she couldn’t leave the family until the arrangements had been made. Pausing to gather her thoughts, and debating the many things she wanted to write, she settled for something quick and simple.

Mr. Greenaway passed. May God rest his soul. I have returned to Mother and Father’s. Will I see you next Sunday?

My fondest and sincerest regards,

Beth

After asking the maid to give the note to Kerry when she arrived the following afternoon, she wanted to take it back. It seemed overly formal and didn’t begin to convey her thoughts. Then again, Beth had no idea what her real thoughts were. She was unsure of what Kerry was after, though up until the day of the kiss, it had seemed to Beth that friendship was what she was being offered. She was no longer sure it was that simple, and she was even more unsure what she felt about, and for, her unusual friend.

*

Addison came home from work in a state of excitement. “It’s the war in the Philippines,” he told Laura and Kerry. “The recruits are pouring into the Presidio of San Francisco and they have called for civilian doctors to help! The hospital has given me leave to go and I’ll report there for duty in a week.”

Laura clung to his coat and cried, and Kerry looked on in disdain.
He’s not going to war. He’s going across town to do what he always does—doctor people. Laura’s such a fool.
She was uninterested, in any case, because she was thinking about her outing with Beth and what they would say to one another. Or, more precisely, if Beth would mention the kiss.

In the hot, fetid hotel kitchen, Kerry washed the mountains of filthy crusted dishes and turned over the moment of the kiss in her mind. While she always looked forward to her stolen time with Beth, part of her dreaded their next meeting. Would Beth be angry with her or think ill of her? Could there be any hope that Beth had enjoyed the kiss as much as she had?
It’s so impossible to tell what she’s thinking.

*

When Kerry came to call, Beth leapt into the carriage. “Get me away quickly!”

Kerry whipped the horses into a gallop, and Beth grabbed the broad-brimmed straw hat she wore and swirled it over her head and whooped.

Kerry spared a glance at her. Her eyes were alight and her mouth was slightly open and seldom had she looked more desirable. They tore through the Mission’s placid streets until Kerry finally pulled the horses up and set them to a walking pace.

“Don’t stop now! Don’t stop until we’re far, far away!”

Kerry laughed. “But I mustn’t drive them too hard. Addison would be unhappy.”

“I see. Well, I suppose we’re far enough away.” She settled back in her seat and then turned and grinned at Kerry. “Thank you for rescuing me. I thought I should die of boredom. I thought it would be a relief to be finally off duty, but I was wrong. Father waited for exactly two days before pleading with me to come work in the store. I couldn’t say no, but after nursing, storekeeping is positively mind-numbing.” She went on in that vein, and Kerry waited impatiently for the moment when Beth would bring up the kiss.

They ambled along the promenade with half of San Francisco milling around them, little noticing the blue sky and green grass, and the eucalyptus trees that swayed in the gentle breeze. Beth slipped her hand around Kerry’s arm, as always, and they were complicit in their silent agreement to speak only of inconsequential things.

“Will you come take supper with us tonight?” Kerry asked abruptly.

Startled, Beth looked back at her, trying to discern from her face what she was thinking.

“I shouldn’t. My parents are so happy to see me. They need me at home and—”

Kerry took Beth’s hand and said in a low voice, “I’d like it very much. I’ve missed you.”

Her brown eyes were so soulful and pleading, Beth relented. “I suppose—”

“Addison would love to talk to you, I’m sure.”

“We just must stop and tell Mother and Father.”

*

Laura, though too well-bred to say so, was vexed at Kerry bringing Beth home for supper. It was just another instance of Kerry acting as though it was her home, although, of course, Addison had insisted it was hers, and that he would enjoy speaking with his former student. Granted, she had never brought any other friends home, but it was still rude to spring someone on the household at the last minute. She was especially annoyed since Addison’s new post at Camp Merritt in the Presidio or army post was taking even more of his time than the hospital did.

Kerry left Beth to rest in the parlor and went to help Laura prepare supper.

“Is something wrong?” Kerry asked as Laura tossed silverware and banged pots in a flurry of displaced emotion.

“You have taken advantage of our hospitality.”

“Is there not enough to eat?” Kerry asked.

“Well, no, of course not. You know I couldn’t say no.”

“Well. Addison always says anyone is welcome.”

“That’s fine for him, but for you…” She clamped her lips together, trying to keep her temper. “This is not your house,” she hissed, glad to see Kerry blanch slightly.

Before she could respond, they heard Addison’s voice from the parlor. “Nurse Hammond. What a distinct pleasure.”

Laura knew he wouldn’t even remove his hat and coat before shaking Beth’s hand warmly. She could hear Beth’s quieter greeting. Throwing a disgusted look at Kerry, she tossed the spoon into the sink and went to greet her husband. Let the silly girl cook herself, if she wanted company for dinner so badly.

*

“It is, I tell you, a thorough mess of confusion and inefficiency! The army has called for recruits from all parts of the country to come immediately, and they are woefully unprepared. There are not enough tents, not enough food, grossly inadequate sanitation. The whole place is snarled in bureaucracy, and the army officers don’t like to listen to their own surgeons, let alone civilian doctors.” He laughed.

“But it’s a challenge. I never can resist that sort of call, as you know, my dear.” He smiled at Laura, who nodded and said, “Not in the least, dear Addison. You’re never happier than when you can swoop in and take charge.”

“Ah, if only that were true. I’m obliged to report to the military surgeon, who’s a good fellow but harried beyond belief and hamstrung by the chain of command. And Nurse Hammond, I tell you, they have a sore need for good nursing help, but the army won’t hear of female nurses. They rely upon their hospital corps, which is made up mostly of the very worst privates—incompetent louts who can’t shoot straight or master the least detail of soldiering. So the army, in its wisdom, dispatches them to care for the sick and wounded soldiers.” He rolled his eyes.

They listened to Addison speak at length of his experience, and Beth listened with rapt attention and seemed not to notice Kerry’s frequent looks. At the end of the evening, they quietly drove home in the carriage.

“Beth?” Kerry said finally, as they sat outside of the Hammond Dry Goods Store. “I, er. I—um—” She didn’t know how to ask her question.

“I want you to be at ease,” Beth said firmly. “The kiss was…interesting. Thank you. I take it you were emotionally overcome by the music?” she asked, quietly.

“Ah, yes. That’s true.” Kerry actually seized upon that as a plausible explanation.
Well, I was overcome by your beauty as you were playing the music. I’m sure I’m falling in love with you. No, I
am
in love with you and was from the first moment I met you. The instant I looked into your eyes, I was lost.

“Well, good, then. We are clear. Good night, Kerry, dearest.” Beth squeezed her arm and jumped out of the carriage before Kerry could come around and help her down, as was her custom. Kerry turned the carriage around and dejectedly made her way home back to the Western Addition through the dark, quiet streets.

It was going to be another hectic luncheon service at the Palace’s restaurant. The hotel was busier than usual even for summer; the war in the Philippines had brought many more visitors and workers to town. Kerry was kept occupied with the dishes, but she was always on the lookout for a chance to catch Chef Henri’s attention and get put on a grill or even a prep station. Chef Henri made it clear he didn’t think women belonged in the kitchen, but Kerry knew her perseverance at dishwashing and refusal to be intimidated hadn’t escaped his notice. She desperately wanted an opportunity to prove to herself she was in the right place. All she needed was the chance, and she’d show him what she could do.

It was ten forty-five a.m. and the kitchen had been in full swing since eight in the morning. Although she wasn’t due for her shift until noon, Kerry always came in a little early just in case someone didn’t show up and she could convince Chef to let her cook. She tidied the sinks up and made sure the evening dishwasher hadn’t taken her favorite scrub brushes. Like all denizens of a big restaurant kitchen, she was particular about her tools of the trade and woe to anyone who messed with them.

The cooks were lined up and firing their grills, laughing and teasing a skinny, pockmarked boy named Danny, who was in charge of the fish station. He had a wickedly painful hangover and was going about his setup with glacial slowness. It was all the usual chaos and the kitchen began to heat up as the stove fires were stoked. Chef Henri was marching around yelling orders about the food that needed to be brought out, and the
maître d’hôtel
was in the kitchen discussing the menu.

“Ho, Danny boy. How’s your head, lad? Does it feel like General Merritt’s army is marching across your brain?”