Coulson's Wife (The Coulson Series) (11 page)

A
s
abruptly as the Spanish Influenza swept through the city, it subsided. By the
end of October, Philadelphia churches were able to reopen and soon businesses
followed suit. But in those few weeks, over 12,000 people died in Philadelphia
and the revenue lost for local businesses was in the millions.

Those who survived
moved on and put the pandemic behind them, turning their attentions to other
pressing matters. By November, World War I was coming to an end. The New Year
—
1919—rolled
in and with it the passage of the 18
^th
Amendment, which prohibited
the manufacture, sale, transport, import, or export of alcoholic beverages. It
was slated to go into effect the following year.

And in the spring of
1919, while heads of governments worked out the details of the peace treaties,
Mary Ellen Coulson was preparing to give birth.

Mary Ellen sat quietly
in the rocking chair reading Zane Gray’s
The U.P. Trail.
She was so
enthralled in the story that she didn’t immediately notice William and Randall
were looking her way while making teasing remarks over her choice of
literature.

“What?” she finally
said when she looked up and saw the two men staring at her.

“William was commenting
on your most unfeminine choice of literature.”

“Wait a minute! You
were the one who thought she should be reading something more appropriate for a
woman in her delicate condition.”

“Oh, hush, you two!”

They both laughed at
her, then went back to what they were originally discussing and left Mary Ellen
to her book.

She glanced back their
way after they resumed their discussion. They were no longer watching her.
Smiling softly, she considered all the changes in her life since coming to
Philadelphia.

After William survived
the influenza, it was weeks before she saw him.  When Randall felt it was safe
for William to be around Mary Ellen, he invited him for dinner. William had
lost a great deal of weight and tired easily, but Mary Ellen thought he looked
wonderful.

Randall insisted he
stay indefinitely, suggesting he move into one of the bedrooms in the downstairs
wing of the house, considering William’s estate was woefully understaffed and
he hadn’t yet replaced Henry. Reluctantly, William agreed.

It was in the parlor
that they were first alone with each other
—
Mary Ellen and William
—
the first time since their one night together. Mary
Ellen was sitting in the rocking chair when Randall and William arrived.
Randall stayed just a few minutes, and then explained he needed to go to the
office for a few hours, but would be back in time for supper.

“He saved my life, you
know.” William was the first to speak when they were alone.

“He was very worried
about you. We both were.”

“I imagine I would have
died had he not come over. He risked his life when he stayed and took care of
me. He’s like a brother.”

“I know that.”

“I’m sorry about how I
left
—
so abruptly
—
without saying anything.”

“I understand.” She
really didn’t.

“It happened so fast—caught
me off guard. And I’ve thought about it a thousand times, wondered what I
should have done different. But it always comes back to the same thing—it was
probably for the best. What we had for that brief time, I’ll always cherish.
But we stole that time—you belong to Randall, he is your husband and soon you’ll
be sharing a child. We need to put what happened behind us.”

“I love you,” Mary
Ellen whispered. It wasn’t a planned acknowledgement, not something she
intended to say. It was an expression she simply could not deny.

“I believe I’ll always
love you, Mary Ellen.”

She closed her eyes.
He
loves me. He will always love me
.

They hadn’t spoken
again of the night together or the love they shared. William stayed for a
month, and when he regained his strength he returned to his home. He continued
to come to Coulson Estate for dinners—but only several times a week, not
nightly.

Months earlier, in late
November, Mary Ellen had received a letter from her aunt giving her the
welcomed news that her brothers were all doing well. She hadn’t lost another
one to war and none to the influenza.

“If you will excuse me
gentleman, I think I’ll go up to bed.” Mary Ellen stood up awkwardly. The
advanced state of her pregnancy made it difficult for her to maneuver.

“It’s awfully early,
are you feeling all right?” Randall sounded concerned. Both men stood up.

“No, I’m fine. Just
tired.” She smiled.

“Well, you’re overdue,
so please don’t ignore the signs so we can call the doctor.”

“I will. Promise.”
Before she left the room, Randall took one of her hands in his and pressed a
kiss on the back of it. It was something he did every morning in greeting—and
every evening to say good night.

“Is the doctor a little
concerned she’s late?” William asked after Mary Ellen went upstairs.

“He says she’s only a
few days late by best estimation. I regret not having her see him earlier in
her pregnancy. Looks like it’s going to be a big baby, so I wish he’d get here
soon, because she’s a small thing.”

“Have you any idea how
much you weighed when you were born?”

“I don’t believe I
weighed much. I recall my mother saying I was about the twins’ size, and they
were pretty small.”

“I’m glad to hear that.
I imagine the only reason the baby seems so large is because she’s late, and it’s
still growing. But I imagine he’ll get here soon enough.”

William thought a
moment of his own mother who died shortly after his birth. He once heard his
grandmother talking to one of the neighbor women about how he had been such a
large baby and that his mother never recuperated from the labor. He wished Mary
Ellen would hurry and have Randall’s child so he could stop worrying about her.

  Upstairs, Mary Ellen
felt the first contraction; it hit her as swiftly and as brutally as the
influenza had hit Philadelphia. Fortunately, Mrs. Parker was just coming up the
stairs and heard Mary Ellen cry out.

Mary Ellen lay on the
floor holding her belly, telling herself she couldn’t be in labor. By her estimation,
she wasn’t due for another three weeks. By the time the doctor arrived, she was
in full labor, but there were complications.  Harrison Randall Coulson arrived
at 10:32 pm. on March 22, 1919, weighing in at 9 pounds 5 ounces. Mary Ellen
and the baby were immediately rushed to the hospital.

• • • •

 “Hysterectomy?”
Randall repeated the doctor’s words.

“I’m afraid there was
simply too much damage. I’ll be honest with you, it’s still touch and go. We
won’t know for a few hours.”

“Are you saying we
could lose her?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t lose her,”
Randall told William after the doctor left. The two men sat alone in the
waiting room. Numbed by the news, William found it difficult to breathe.
She
can’t die!

“At one time, I don’t
think I would’ve really cared. I know that sounds dreadful,” Randall confessed.

“You’re in love with
her?” William asked.

“No—but I love her.
I’ve never loved a woman before. I loved my sister. Maybe I loved my mother, I
don’t know.”

Randall sat slumped in
a chair, resting his forehead against his open palm.

“You made me get to
know her. I just wanted a wife to give me sons. I really didn’t care about what
happened to her afterwards. She wasn’t a real person. But she is. Our son needs
his mother. I think she’ll be a wonderful mother. She can’t die, William, she
can’t.”

William did something
he hadn’t done for years. He closed his eyes and began to pray. They stayed at
the hospital for almost four hours, talking very little, each lost in his own
private thoughts. Separately they each wandered off to the nursery to admire
young Harrison, yet both men could only focus on one person—Mary Ellen.

It was after 3 a.m.
when a doctor returned to the waiting room recommending the men go home and get
their rest.

“She’s stable, so it is
looking better,” the doctor told them.

“But she could still
die?” Randall asked.

“She isn’t out of the
woods, but it’s looking much better. Please go home, get some rest.”

“Can we see her?” William
asked.

“She’s sleeping now.
I’d rather you didn’t. She needs her rest.”

Reluctantly the two men
left the hospital.

On the drive back to
the Coulson estate Randall said, “I was wrong not to let Mary Ellen go to her
mother’s funeral.”

“From what I recall, by
the time she found out it was too late anyway.”

“No, remember, I knew
about it. There was time for her to go. But I made sure she wasn’t told. I said
it was because I didn’t want her upset, because of the baby. The truth was, I
didn’t want to bother with her family. They weren’t important to me. But they
are important to her. I see how she still checks the mail every day, hoping for
a letter from her father.”

“I don’t see how you
can do anything about that, unless you can convince the man to write her.”

“It was the arrangement
we made. I would take care of Mary Ellen, she would have every material thing
she needed and he wouldn’t interfere.”

 “What are you going to
do?” William wasn’t surprised.

“I’ll find some way to
make it up to her.”

Randall took a deep
breath and thought how much easier it was when he only cared about one person.
A part of him almost wished he’d ignored William’s persistent urgings to work
on his marriage. Had that been the case, he wouldn’t have such a twisting in
his gut worrying about Mary Ellen, and wondering if she would survive.

• • • •

Restless, Mary Ellen
shifted her weight as she lay in the hospital bed. Not quite awake, she
wondered why there was so much pain.  Then she remembered,
my baby
.

Her eyelids were so
heavy; it was almost impossible to open them, yet she finally managed to. The
only illumination in the hospital room came from the shaft of moonlight coming
through the window.

“Is my baby all right?”
Mary Ellen called out to the silent room.

“Yes sweetheart, he is
perfect.”

Mary Ellen tried to
focus her eyes on the shadow of a woman that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
There was something very familiar about the voice. Mary Ellen felt fingers
brush the hair from her eyes.

“Rest now, love,
everything is going to be fine.”

“Mama?” Mary Ellen
whispered.

“Yes love, I’m here.
I’ve always been here.”

“It’s been so long, Mama,
why did you go away like that?”

“I’m sorry, love. A
mother shouldn’t go away when her children still need her. That’s why you must get
better. Your son needs you.”

“I need you, Mama.”

“I know, love, but
remember I’m always just beyond the shadows watching over you. Remember that.”

“Ed?”

“Yes dear, Ed is here
too.”

“H
e is such a
beautiful baby,” Mrs. Parker cooed over the bassinet. Mary Ellen had been home
a week and had insisted she wanted it next to her bed.

“I will allow it if you
remember you are not to pick the baby up yet.”
Randall had given the stern decree when she first arrived home. He’d purchased
a second rocking chair before she’d been released from the hospital and she
found it in her room when she came home. Sitting in the new rocking chair,
wearing a fluffy robe over her nightgown, she waited for Mrs. Parker to lift
Harrison from the crib and hand him to her.

Jane had assumed many
of Lily’s responsibilities and had moved into the nursery off Mary Ellen’s room
so she could get up with the baby if necessary. She stood beside the rocker and
watched Mrs. Parker hand Mary Ellen the wiggly bundle. Moments earlier, she’d
combed out Mary Ellen’s hair and tied it back with a bow.

“Yes, he is.” Mary
Ellen smiled softly as she took Harrison from Mrs. Parker.

“How are you feeling
this morning?” Randall asked as he entered Mary Ellen’s room. Mrs. Parker and
Jane quickly exited, giving the married couple some privacy.

“Actually, wonderful.
The pain isn’t near as bad as it was, and I may even try dressing in real
clothes tomorrow!” She smiled brightly.

Randall sat on the edge
of the mattress and watched as his wife held the child he believed was his son.

“I do have a favor to
ask you,” Mary Ellen asked shyly.

“Anything.”

Mary Ellen laughed.
“Oh, don’t say that so quickly. You have no idea what I intend to ask.”

“I suppose you’re
right.” Randall chuckled. “What is it then?”

“I would like to cut my
hair.”

“Cut your hair?
Whatever for? You have beautiful hair.”

“Yes, but it’s also a
tremendous bother. Plus summer is around the corner, and it gets so hot.”

“But you can always
wear it up.”

“Lily used to dress my
hair,” Mary Ellen said sadly.

Randall let out a deep
sigh. “It is your hair. But please, select a feminine bob, if that is possible,
and please, don’t take to smoking cigarettes and shortening the hems of your
skirts.”

“Don’t worry, Randall.
I’ve no desires to become a flapper.”

“Relieved to hear it.” He
chuckled then asked, “Mary Ellen, I wonder if you feel up to having a guest
this morning?”

“I thought the doctor
wanted me to avoid the stairs for a few more days?” When she had arrived home, Randall
carried her upstairs, a feat that was not easy for her husband.

“The visitors will come
upstairs, and see you here.”

“I don’t know, who is
it?”

“While I understand
your reluctance in receiving visitors in your bedchamber, I promise you this
will be fine. But if you really don’t feel like seeing anyone…”

“No, it’s all right.
Anyway, now I’m curious.” She wondered briefly if it was William, but then
remembered her husband said
visitors
, as in more than one person.
William had visited her in the hospital, but since she’d returned to Coulson
Estate he hadn’t come upstairs to see her or his son.

“All right then, I’ll
go get them.”

“Do I look all right?”
Mary Ellen asked, realizing she hadn’t looked in a mirror all morning.

“You look lovely, as always.”

Mary Ellen watched her
husband leave the room.
You look lovely, as always
. She remembered how William
had told her not to expect much flattery from her husband, as he tended to be a
blunt man with little patience for such niceties. He’d definitely changed since
his return from Chicago. However, she noticed this gentler side seemed to be
reserved for her. After Christmas, they’d had an opportunity to go out socially
before the state of her pregnancy became too obvious. She noticed the terse,
impatient, somewhat sardonic husband she married was still quite alive and
well, and on numerous occasions, she cringed when he’d snapped some
undiplomatic response to one of their friends, who seemed to accept Randall’s sharpness.

She couldn’t help but
wonder about the more intimate aspects of their marital relationship once she
was completely recuperated. While she could no longer have children, from
conversations she’d overheard between Lily and Jane, men simply enjoyed having
sex and it was a wife’s duty to give her husband physical pleasure.

Looking down at
Harrison, Mary Ellen understood she needed to commit herself to the marriage.
In the eyes of the law, Harrison belonged to Randall. William had obviously
accepted the fact she was Randall’s wife, and would do nothing further to
interfere with the couple.

During the past seven
months, she’d come to love her husband. It was not the same sort of love she
felt for William, but more a sisterly love, like that she once felt for her
brother Edward. While the idea of marital intimacy with Randall was not
especially appealing, she had to admit he was an attractive man, and perhaps if
she tried, she could come to enjoy the act as Aunt Rachael had once told her
was possible. If there were some way to persuade her husband to make love to
her in a different way—a more personal and caring way—then perhaps she would
feel like his real wife, instead of the pretender she had become.

Mary Ellen heard steps
coming down the hallway. She looked up to see who was with her husband.

“Papa!” she called out
in surprised.

Edward Browning stood
in her doorway, hat in hand. Nervously fumbling with its hatband, he stood for
a moment before entering the room.

“Mary Ellen,” he greeted
then walked closer. Behind him was one of her younger brothers, Charlie. She
guessed he must have grown a foot since she’d last seen him. With a broad grin
on his face, Charlie came closer. He carried a package wrapped in newsprint.

“Hi, Mary Ellen!”
Charlie beamed. “Boy, I sure missed you!” Charlie, who was several years
younger than Mary Ellen, raced past his father and planted a kiss on her cheek
then looked down at his new nephew.

“Wow, he’s great! I
brought a present for him.”

Mary Ellen was speechless.
She glanced up and noticed her husband was lingering in the doorway.

“We figured you
probably wouldn’t be up to too many visitors, so soon out of the hospital, so
it’s just Charlie and me for now,” her father explained.

Mary Ellen looked up at
Edward Browning. “It’s been months. You never wrote or called, not once. Not
even when Mama died.”

Edward looked to the
floor sheepishly.

“Mary Ellen, I am going
to leave you three alone, so you can visit. But before I do, I need to tell you
something,” Randall told her.

Mary Ellen looked at
her husband.

“It’s my fault your
father didn’t write or call. I was selfish, and I realize now I was wrong. I
wanted a wife to give me sons, but I didn’t want to bother with her family. He
simply was honoring the wishes of your husband.”

Mary Ellen said
nothing, but watched as Randall nodded to her father and then left the room.
She turned and looked at Edward.

“You still could have
written, or called. Aunt Rachael did,” she said quietly.

“I suppose it was
easier for me this way,” Edward admitted.

“It wasn’t easier for
me.”

“Mary Ellen, can you
please be mad at me later. I really would love to see my new grandson.”

On cue, Harrison began
to squirm in his mother’s arms. Mary Ellen smiled down at her son, then let out
a little sigh and lifted the child toward her father. Edward’s grin matched his
son’s as he reached out and took the baby in his arms. It was obvious the man
was not a stranger to handling newborns. He walked around the room with his
grandson in his arms, jiggling the bundle ever so slightly as he talked to the child.

“How’s everyone?” Mary
Ellen turned her attention to her brother while her father was focused on the
newest addition to the family.

“Good. It’s not the
same with you and Mama gone and I’m always having dreams about Ed. Most of the
older brothers should be home soon, but I heard Fred and Wally were talking
about going to New York and Frank said something about heading for California. The
younger ones are growing like weeds.”

“Pa’s new wife isn’t so
bad. She was real good to Mama. But I feel a little sorry for her. Pa’s forever
slipping and calling her by Mama’s name.” He whispered the last sentence.

Harrison fell asleep in
his grandfather’s arms. Gently, Edward laid the baby in the bassinette and covered
him with a blanket. Then he went to Mary Ellen and kissed her forehead.

“You did good, Mary
Ellen. He’s a handsome one.”

“Thank you, Papa. But
he’ll be my only one.”

“I’m sorry about that
girl, but glad to see you’re doing good. You had your husband really worried.”

“How do you know?”

“He called me every day
you were in the hospital.”

“Really?”

“And he’s prouder than
punch over that boy.”

“I know he wanted more
children”

“Sometimes God has
different plans for us, girl.”

“I suppose so. How long
are you staying?”

“Just a couple days.
Mr. Coulson is going to show me around the Philadelphia plant tomorrow morning.
Looking forward to that.”

“He is your son-in-law.
I think you can call him by his first name.”

“No, it wouldn’t be
right. He was my employer first.”

Mary Ellen looked up
into her father’s face and realized he was serious. Had Randall really
intimidated her father that much? So much that he would hand over his daughter
and then agree to relinquish all parental rights?

“When I’m feeling
better, do you think it would be all right if Harrison and I come home for a
visit? Do you think your new wife would mind?”

“I think that would be
nice, girl. And you should meet your new step-mama.”

Mary Ellen didn’t
respond immediately. She was silent for a moment before she spoke.

“Papa, I understand you
had your own reasons for getting married so soon after Mama’s death. And I
sincerely wish you all the happiness in the world. I will be happy to meet your
new wife, and I hope she and I can become friends. But please, I’m too old for
a step-mother, and frankly, I really don’t want one. I had my own mother, one I
loved with all my heart and she’s still with me. So please, I would appreciate
it if you not refer to her as my step-mother.”

Edward stared at his
daughter. It was in that moment he realized she was not the same girl he sent
away less than a year earlier.  She’d grown into a woman, one who seemed far
more confident and strong willed. In some ways, the manner and tone in which
she presented herself reminded him of Randall Coulson.

She is no longer a
Browning
, Edward thought.
Mary Ellen is a Coulson

.