The Doctor's Undoing (15 page)

That made Daniel laugh. “Mother already considers me essential.”
Entirely too important
, he added silently, wishing he had a little less of his mother's attention and oversight. “That can't be it. I saw the way she looked at you when we arrived. Now she's knitting pink socks. What have you done?”

She kept walking, the amused look still lighting up her face. “I took her to see what you just saw. I thought she should see how much the children love and need you. I talked about how important you are...to them.”

The fact that she felt compelled to add “...to them” said everything her words did not say. Daniel's mind brought back the vision of her staring into his eyes, touching his cheek, imploring him to stay awake and alert as they waited for the ambulance. Lots of things were foggy about that day, but the care in Ida Landway's eyes and words was not one of them.

“Those cards are an astounding thing. I expect I'll keep them the rest of my life.” He couldn't find words for what was going on inside him regarding Ida. He wasn't sure it was safe to even speak about, fearing that voicing any of the strong sentiments he currently had might give them even more strength. A huge part of him was drawn to the color and energy that poured from her. Everything looked drab without her. The bland Home he'd once considered practical now seemed thirsty for the wash of vibrancy she added wherever she went. She'd pried something open in his spirit that refused to go back to its proper place.

“They look lovely, all brilliant and bold like a loud, cheerful rainbow. All waiting to be delivered at whatever pace you're ready to receive them.” She'd contrived some plan whereby each day, starting with the older ones, one or two children were allowed to take their cards from the door and bring them to him. Donna and Matthew had been the first, and Daniel was amazed again at her ability to create something so suited to his condition. He really was worried how the children would take his ghastly appearance.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Ida smiled softly and added, “You look much better today.”

Daniel cringed. “No, I don't. I rather think I look even worse. I know you're a fan of color, but I'd prefer less of these horrid hues on my face and the use of both my eyes.”

She laughed as he opened the door to his parlor. “Well, you are colorful, I'll grant you that. But don't you let that stop you from seeing the children. I'll talk to the younger ones first, if you think that will help, but I tell you, their imaginations are coming up with far worse than how you really look.” She stopped and put a hand on his elbow as they entered the room. “They need to see you, Daniel. They need to know you are healing and coming back to them.”

She was right, of course. Some part of him knew that. It was only that the accident had thrown him, made him realize how much of the Home rested solely on his shoulders. He'd never been incapacitated in the way he had been over the past four days, and it had shaken him. God was waking him up to the lonely nature of his position and his life, and Daniel knew much of that awakening was coming from the woman in front of him.

“You are wonderful with the children, Ida. You're wonderful with people, period. You turn everything inside out, but somehow it's better that way.” It was the closest he could come to saying how she'd changed his life—the words he spoke were daring enough as it was.

She held his gaze, making Daniel feel exposed and wondering if his own eyes had said what he'd held back from revealing with words. He needed so much more time to think about what was happening between him and Ida Landway. So many things were at stake, so many things could be hurt by him simply giving in to this rush of strange new emotions. A romantic entanglement would complicate things, to say the least. There could be little hope of escaping their difference in social status. Too many conclusions would be drawn about him as an employer taking up with one of his employees. The Home thrived on its integrity—even with the best of intentions, any perception of impropriety could cost the Home much-needed donors.

“Mama always said I love to upset the applecart.”

The air hung too warm between them, his guard too close to falling after sleepless nights and painful days. Daniel struggled to push the conversation back to safer subjects. “When will the socks be ready?”

He watched her pull back, watched the space between them fold itself back up into professional boundaries. “Next week. I think we should wait until you're feeling better anyway.”

“And the common room trim?”

That brought a smile to her face. “I finished the girls' room while you were gone. It was a good place to channel all my fretting.”

She'd worried about him. He'd known she would, of course, but to hear her speak it out loud sent a little glow of affection into his chest. He'd actually worried about her, as well, wondering how the children would react to his gruesome exit. “Do they like it?”

“Oh, they love it.” Her eyes sparkled. “It only took two days and it was like Christmas when it was all done. Gitch just stood there with her mouth open and said she'd never seen anything so pretty in all her days. I let each of them help with one of the baseboards. It took a lot of cleaning up, but they were so proud. Gitch wants to show it to you personally when you're up for a tour.”

Daniel settled himself in a chair. “After today, I've been thinking you should go ahead and do a mural in the dining room.”

Ida's eyes went wide. “You do?”

“If that gallery of cards doesn't show how much a burst of color will do for a room, I don't know what does.” The thought had come to him the moment he saw the wall, saw how the colors changed the room—and changed his heart.

“Oh, Daniel, really?” Her face was downright radiant.

“I know better than to give you any false encouragement. Although,” he added, “I will ask to see sketches first for approval.”

Her smile broadened with such warmth that Daniel felt it in his fingertips. “And you shall have them.” She paused for a long, potent moment, and he noticed the white blouse she wore today had little blue flowers embroidered on the collar and cuffs. She simply could not bear her nursing uniform to be completely without color. “I am so very glad you are back and well.”

He was glad, too. Daniel was beginning to think he simply could not bear for his life to be completely without Ida Landway.

The question was, what to do about that?

Chapter Sixteen

“I
t's already August,” Leanne said to Ida when they met in Leanne's house on Ida's next free afternoon. “I can't believe we will be moving in less than a month,” she exclaimed, followed by an enormous hug. “Oh, Ida, how I will miss you so! I know Washington isn't clear across the country, but it feels as if there will be too many miles between us.”

The separation loomed before Ida in the same way, but she wanted to encourage her friend. “Good things are waiting for you in Washington, Leanne. I wish you were staying, too—but John has such a bright future ahead of him in Washington. It takes the sting out of your being gone.”

“And what about your future here? You've already weathered your first crisis with Dr. Parker's injury. Are you happy at the Home? Is it the right place for you?”

“I do think so. I feel like I've made a real difference, and that's mighty satisfying.”

“So you think you'll want to stay?”

“Yes.” Ida looked again at her friend, caught by her particular expression. “Why so many questions about if I'm happy here?”

Leanne looked at her hands. “Well, it's selfish of me to bring it up, but John has heard about a position in Washington. It seems a perfect fit, and goodness knows I would love to have you near, especially since...” Leanne's face flushed.

“Since what?”

Leanne leaned in. “Since John and I are thinking we might be ready to start a family.”

“A family!” Ida grabbed Leanne's hand. “That's wonderful news. You'll be a splendid mother, Leanne, I just know it.” Broad smiles filled both their faces. “And think of all the knitting—booties, caps, sweaters, even itty-bitty socks in dozens of colors!” The two friends fell into joyous laughter. “Oh, who wouldn't want to be there for that?”

“I'd hoped you would. The post is a nursing position at Walter Reed Hospital. And Ida, their rehabilitation programs include both art and knitting. I'd never ask you to leave the Home if you are happy, but this seemed so perfect I just had to let you know.” Leanne leaned in. “They hinted they might take John's recommendation into high account.”

Ida sat back in her chair. “Well now, that is something to consider. I'm happy here, but a nursing position in a major hospital with an art and knitting program as part of the accepted treatments...well, that does sound as if it was tailor-made for me.”

“John talked to one of his doctors here and learned that Walter Reed Hospital has a fine reputation, especially for its art programs.”

Ida thought about all the effort she had to make to get any kind of art into the Home. Sure, she was making progress, but it seemed an uphill battle at best. To serve in a place where art and color were welcomed as vital instead of dismissed as a luxury? The idea drew her instantly. “Washington.” Ida tried out the idea on her tongue, feeling surprisingly torn. A big city? The nation's capital? Wouldn't all the folks back on the hillside in West Virginia be surprised at scrawny little Ida growing up to consider a post in Washington, DC?

“Will you think about it? John says they will give him a copy of the posting with all the information. The job opens up in October, just a month after we settle in. You could even stay with us until you get settled yourself.”

Ida put a hand to her forehead in astonishment. “I was barely sure I would win the position at the Home. To have a post come looking for me like this? The world sure is changing.”

“I think the twenties are going to be an amazing time, don't you? And not just for you and me, but for the whole country. The whole world.” Leanne sighed. “When I think back to how things were in the war, it feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Doesn't it? Some days I look around me, at my apartment with three rooms—
three
rooms!—and the army feels a century away instead of just a year.”

“I don't want to lure you away from the Home if you're happy there, Ida. That place is so dreary that I'm sure they need you. Only when John told me about this just after I was telling God how much I'll miss having your nearby, well, I couldn't help but think maybe it was His gift.”

“It does feel like something only the Lord could orchestrate,” Ida admitted. “But moving again so soon after coming to Charleston feels like I haven't given the Home a real chance. And I'd never want to leave Dr. Parker shorthanded without a nurse.”

“If you gave your notice soon, he'd have time to find one. You could even see if Camp Jackson could send another.”

Another army nurse dealing with all those dear little children? Ida was surprised how the thought disturbed her. She may have been at the Home for only a short time, but she'd come to think of many of the children as “hers.” She wanted to see Gitch's teeth come fully in. She wanted to see Donna and Matty settled together. But she could always come back and visit, couldn't she? She could even be one of Isabelle's “Aunties,” as she'd come to call them, sending cards and gifts and knitted socks to some of the girls.

And then there was Daniel.

He was coming around to her way of thinking—the tin of paints, the common room decor and even the soon-to-be-approved dining room mural proved that he was. She liked working with him very much—perhaps a bit too much—even if they did find themselves at odds over a dozen tiny issues. There was no denying that she'd found herself thinking of Daniel frequently—and often in the wrong ways—since his accident. The last thing she needed on her first professional post out of the army was to become emotionally involved with her employer. Could this new post be an ideal solution? Besides, she'd be foolish not to at least explore a post so perfectly suited to her skills, wouldn't she?

“Okay, then, let's see how this plays out. Have John let them know I might be interested and they can send me the details and...”

Leanne took both of Ida's hands. “I was hoping you would say that. I know it could all fall through, but it could be so perfect. I'm sure I could face whatever Washington brought us if I had you near. And who knows? A city like Washington has to be filled with handsome bachelors—maybe God has the perfect man up there waiting for you alongside that perfect job.”

Ida laughed. “Now you're getting ahead of yourself. I hardly think a slick city man would take to the likes of me.” She thought of how easily Leanne navigated the parlors and teas of Charleston whereas she found them nerve-racking and foreign. “I can barely wade my way through Charleston's social muck, much less someplace like Washington.”

“Nonsense. Nothing scares the Ida Lee Landway I know. Now, are you all ready for Friday's big delivery?”

Friday was the day Isabelle, Leanne and all the other Aunties were delivering the socks. “When I think of all those happy little toes wiggling in all those colorful socks, I think it'll take weeks for the smile to leave my face. It's gonna feel like Christmas—I can hardly wait.” Ida was about to burst from anticipation, and so were most of the girls. Of course, the girls thought they were just getting socks, but Ida knew they were getting a year's worth of attention and their own “Auntie.” She was having trouble keeping such wonderful news to herself.

“I'm glad the good doctor is up and about to see it, too. It would have been such a shame for him to miss it. Of course, I expect he'll be seeing these socks every day for months to come now, won't he?” She held up one hand. “Which reminds me!” Leanne bustled to a sideboard and pulled out a small bag, which she held out to Ida. “I got to thinking it shouldn't be the female students who have all the goodies on their feet. I know you told me you were working on slippers for Mrs. Smiley, so I simply followed your lead. Open it.”

Ida opened the small tissue parcel to see the softest slippers, knitted in a sunny yellow yarn with great big yellow-and-white daisies gracing the toes. They were the most cheerful thing she'd seen, like wearing a sunrise on each foot. “Oh, Leanne!” Ida slid her hands into one of the luxurious slippers, the soft mohair a fuzzy cloud against her fingers. “They're positively decadent. I love them.”

“There's more...well, more thanks to Isabelle. She sent these over when I told her you were coming today.” Leanne held up another package Ida hadn't noticed she was holding. “She said to give it to Dr. Parker.”

Leanne opened the wrapping to show a pair of beautifully crafted argyle socks made from a fine lightweight merino wool. They were appropriately dark in blue and gray, but a single run of yellow stitches crossed over the traditional diamonds to give the socks a bit of color. They were an extraordinary bit of craftsmanship. Ida looked at Isabelle. “Isabelle made these?”

“She told me a friend of her sister's did the work. But we were talking about how to do something for the boys in the fall, and Isabelle decided this might help Dr. Parker come around to the idea.”

Ida felt her cheeks heat at the thought of giving Dr. Parker such a gift. “Why doesn't Isabelle give these to Dr. Parker herself on Friday?”

“I asked her the same thing.” Leanne nodded. “Do you know what she said?”

“What?”

Leanne's eyes went wide. “She said she didn't want Amelia Parker to be scandalized by the sight. I think our Isabelle has a bit of the rebel in her.”

Ida held up the socks. “Could you imagine what Mrs. Parker would do if she found Daniel wearing these?” It was ill-mannered of her to be sure, but the bit of the rebel in Ida was curious to find out.

* * *

The girls' common room was a festival of color and noise. Today was Sock Delivery Day, and Daniel found himself dead center of a sock delivery party he could never have imagined. Christmas, it seemed, had nothing on Sock Delivery Day. Just when he thought he'd seen the limits of Ida's impact on the Home, she turned around and instituted a holiday—right down to the Happy Sock Delivery Day banner strung across the now color-trimmed windows.

Daniel was grateful his wounds had healed a bit, for the sound and commotion held the likely makings of a spectacular headache. He'd been avoiding loud noises and bright lights since the accident, but knew better than to try to bow out of this event. Part of him truly had wished to leave such frivolities to the ladies, even before his injury. As it was, the sounds of excited girls and the smell of tea and sugar cookies commandeered his tender senses.
It's not so bad
, he told himself.
It's rather fun. Or at least it could be, if you tried.

“This one is called Canary and that one is Sky Blue.” Gwendolyn had him by the hand, leading him around to the windows, baseboards and bookshelves as she pointed out the different colors Ida had painted.

He knew this, of course, being the one to purchase those paints, but he wouldn't stop the girl's animated explanations for all the world. She looked enthralled, beaming with pride and excitement, as were all the girls. He hardly had to ask, “Do you like the room's new colors?”

“Oh, yes, Dr. Parker. I love 'em. Makes me think of blue skies and sunshine, and those are happy thoughts.” She crunched up her face to examine Daniel's, which still boasted a bandage over his eye. “Can you see all of this with only one eye?”

“Yes,” Daniel replied, reaching down to scratch Chester behind the ears. The dog had spent the past half hour running from one child to another collecting pets and treats. Thankfully, he hadn't barked—Daniel was sure the yapping would've been the one thing to drive him from the room. “My one eye is working extra hard so that the other one can rest and get better.”

Gwendolyn peered closer, making Daniel wonder if she wouldn't up and lift the bandage to see the wounds for herself. “Joshua says you'll have a great big scar.” She drew the last three words out for grotesque emphasis, much as Daniel expected Joshua had. “Will you?”

Daniel was surprised he could laugh at her drama, and glad it no longer hurt to do so. “Well, I don't know about a great big scar. Maybe a small one. Nurse Landway says I should be able to take the bandage off the day after tomorrow, and then you can look and tell me what you think.”

He thought maybe she might flinch at the invitation, but instead she leaned in, narrowing one eye in pint-size analysis. “I think medium-sized,” she declared.

“I'm glad to have your opinion, Dr. Martin.”

“Maybe just ‘Dr. Gitch.'” She giggled, reaching down to pet Chester herself. The dog licked her generously, then darted over to check in with his owner. Mrs. Hooper was chatting excitedly in the circle of ladies who were busy arranging packages and cookies on the far side of the room. Gwendolyn tugged on Daniel's sleeve. “Will you look at all the Aunties Nurse Ida brought us?”

The term
Aunties
fit, in a dangerously familial way, for each woman had taken to heart her responsibilities toward a specific set of girls. It was starting today with socks, but according to Isabelle, the relationship would continue on throughout the year. He'd often thought of implementing a sponsorship program such as this, but had never gotten around to doing so. Anytime one matched a child with a sponsor like this, it was precariously easy for the child to begin to fantasize that the sponsor would adopt them. Yes, it happened, but the sad times it did
not
far outweighed the splendid times it occurred. Daniel hated to risk anything that might bring the children even the smallest sense of rejection.

Today, however, everyone seemed bursting with happiness. Daniel looked around the packed room, stunned again that the plans of a single nurse with a desperate pair of knitting needles had bloomed into the large-scale joyful chaos in front of him today. It was a hot afternoon—hardly the weather for lots of socks—but no one seemed to notice the temperature for all the bright colors and noise.

“Well now,” Isabelle announced, clasping her hands together, “who'd like to get started?” Daniel winced as Chester gave in to his yappy nature and sounded his approval as the girls shouted theirs. The rush toward the table of packages and sweets was thunderous.