The Doctor's Undoing

by Allie Pleiter

  “I’m glad for the chance to speak with you, Daniel. I know your mother well, you know.”

  Everyone does, Daniel thought. “It’s too bad she wasn’t able to join your project.”

  She waved the comment off. “Oh, come now, we both know she wasn’t ever interested. I asked her to be polite, really. She’s done more than enough for the Home over her life already.” She began petting the little dog, who had settled himself delicately into her lap. “I find this a most creative project. You’ve quite the talented nurse there. I’d never have thought to look to the army base for a nurse for your Home, but I dare say it’s been a great success.”

  Daniel wasn’t sure success was the word he had in mind at this particular moment. Still, the woman’s kind words bore out a surprising truth: he had assumed the volunteer ladies’ enthusiasm had been won by Leanne Gallows, but perhaps Ida had a greater hand in it than he’d realized. “Miss Landway is a very creative person.”

  “I’ve become rather invested, knitting these little socks. I hadn’t expected that to happen. I want to meet the girls I’m knitting for. Actually, I’d like to continue meeting them, and I know some of the other ladies feel the same way. I’m hoping Miss Landway and I can devise a way to maintain a personal connection with the girls over the year. Do you think that can be arranged? A sponsorship of sorts. You know, cards on birthdays, gifts at Christmas, that sort of thing?”

  Daniel removed his glasses. “It’s a lovely sentiment, Mrs. Hooper, and I do appreciate all you’re doing. It just might be a bit more difficult in practice.”

  “Miss Landway seems to think you are capable of anything. Surely arranging for small kindnesses for some of the girls shouldn’t pose a challenge.”

  Here it was again: the never-ending battle of “some” versus “all.”

  “I’m not against kindnesses. I welcome anything we can do for the children. But please understand, it creates new problems if some children get things and others don’t. I’m sure Miss Landway told you the story of the pink booties that launched the whole project of socks for her.”

  “Oh, she most certainly did.” From the look on Mrs. Hooper’s face, the story did little to dissuade her. He was going to rue the day those little pink booties came into his life. Was? He already did.

  * * *

  Ida walked into the room just as Dr. Parker was talking Mrs. Hooper out of getting further involved. Her heart sank to hear the doctor’s practical, discouraging tone. She’d begun to have such high hopes for him when he’d purchased the paint, only to have them dashed again today. “So I can’t do things for the four children I’ve knit socks for?” Mrs. Hooper’s voice was actually sad.

  “I’m not saying that exactly. I’m saying that we must ensure that the children are treated equally.”

  “I know it’s hard to realize,” Ida offered at the disappointment in Mrs. Hooper’s tone, “but comparison is our worst enemy here. We want each child to feel special, but it is so hard when close quarters make it impossible to hide if one child has a treat that the others do not. Please don’t let that discourage you. We really do want your help.”

  “Well, I suppose there’s only one thing to do, then.” Ida held her breath, fearful Mrs. Hooper would give up when she was sure the older woman had so much love to give. If she gave the children on her list even one-quarter of the devotion she showed to Chester, it would be an abundance to the girls. “We’ll have to ensure that all the women get involved.”

  Ida sank into a chair as someone from the kitchen set a tray on the table between her, Mrs. Hooper and Dr. Parker. Suddenly this small impulse to knit socks for one girl was ballooning into something much larger than she could ever have imagined. Ida put a hand to her chest, astonished. “You’d do that?”

  “It’s a sizable commitment, Mrs. Hooper,” Dr. Parker advised.

  “Well, of course it is,” Mrs. Hooper dismissed. “But really, what in life worth doing isn’t?” Chester perked up at the bowl of water the server set at Mrs. Hooper’s feet, hopping from her lap to tuck his white nose noisily into the bowl. “Now, there you are, Chester. Look how kind they are to you here.” She turned her gaze to Dr. Parker. “I rather like the idea of making a personal connection. I serve as a patron for several fine artists. Why not become a patron to orphans, as well?”

  “You’d have to get all the women equally involved,” Ida admitted. “We simply can’t single one group of girls out for special treatment.” She felt compelled to add, “Even though they all are so very special, don’t you think?”

  “I’ve been thinking I needed a new project. Why not this?” Mrs. Hooper accepted the glass of iced tea Dr. Parker offered. “Now, just to be clear, ‘equal’ doesn’t have to mean ‘identical,’ am I right? As long as each child receives the same amount of attention, am I free to treat each child individually? If one child likes licorice, and another likes peppermint, I don’t have to buy them both licorice, do I? I hardly think that’s a true kindness.”

  Dr. Parker picked up his coffee cup. “Are you telling me you want a one-on-one relationship with each child?”

  “Well, not all of them. Just my four. And each of the other five ladies will foster relationships with their four. Think of us as...well, a little band of surrogate aunties.”

  Or fairy godmothers, Ida thought. “That’s so much more than we’d hoped for, Mrs. Hooper. I don’t know what to say.”

  “That’s easy.” Mrs. Hooper laughed. “Say yes.”

  “It’s not really my yes to say.” Ida looked at Dr. Parker. He couldn’t possibly disapprove of such generosity, could he? Not when Isabelle Hooper was offering such an abundance of attention to the girls. “Please, Dr. Parker, I do think this could be wonderful.”

  Daniel Parker had the good sense to know when he was outnumbered. Quite frankly, the way Mrs. Hooper was grinning, Ida thought she would sit here until sundown making arguments if Dr. Parker declined. She’d have to thank Leanne ten times over for getting this wonderful older woman involved—dog and all.

  “I’ll agree,” Dr. Parker said after entirely too long a pause. “As long as treatment feels equitable to each girl. Which reminds me, the setup you’ve suggested leaves two girls unassigned.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Leanne and I are making socks for two of the girls. We’ll have to do something about that.”

  “I’ll take them on,” Isabelle said. “I’ve raised six children—I’m used to doing things by the half dozen.” Chester chose this moment to walk over to Dr. Parker and plant his wet snout on the doctor’s knee. Ida tried not to laugh as the little dog looked up at the man with pleading eyes. Daniel set down his coffee cup and gave the dog an obligatory pat, receiving a bevy of licks for his kindness.

  “My stars. Chester is always fond of children but he’s very choosy with his friends when it comes to adults. You should be honored he’s taken such a shine to you.”

  Dr. Parker looked many things, but honored wasn’t one of them. Ida hoped Chester knew enough not to hop on Dr. Parker’s lap—she didn’t know what the good doctor would do with that.

  “I’ll have all their agreements lined up by the time we come with the socks next week. Ida tells me there’s an afternoon later this month when the boys are on an outing. I wouldn’t want them to feel left out—not that I imagine any of them pine for pink socks.”

  “Mr. Grimshaw is arranging for them to tour the navy shipyards,” Dr. Parker confirmed, trying to politely extract his hand from Chester’s continual licks. “Miss Landway will coordinate your visit with me.” He caught Ida’s eye with an expression of command. “Although today was a...delightful surprise.”

  “Oh, yes, a delightful one,” Ida added.

  “A bit chaotic at first,” Mrs. Hooper said, “but I think even Chester enjoyed himself. I promise I won’t raise quite such a ruckus when we come back. Still, I thi
nk Chester would enjoy becoming a regular visitor here, if that’s all right with you, Dr. Parker.”

  Ida hid her smile in a glass of iced tea. Dr. Parker really was outnumbered at the moment. “How could I refuse?” he said, his voice tight but cordial. Ida expected to hear a great deal about this once Mrs. Hooper was out of earshot.

  “Another thing. Could you prepare a list of the girls’ birthdays for me? I’d like to ensure the girls get birthday and holiday cards, among other things. And Bibles. Do the children have Bibles of their own? Because if they don’t, I should like to make sure that they do—boys included.”

  “We have many Bibles in the library, but the children do not own individual books.”

  “Surely you’ll make an exception in the case of the Good Book, won’t you?”

  Ida began to wonder just how much Isabelle Hooper was going to get away with in a single visit. “It sounds like a fine idea—if you approve, of course, Dr. Parker.” She felt a tad guilty about adding her endorsement, given how little chance Dr. Parker had of refusing Mrs. Hooper, but if God had sent Isabelle Hooper as such a blessing of generosity for the Home, who was she to object?

  “It’s a lovely gesture,” Dr. Parker said, his voice still tight and Chester still lavishing his hand with licks.

  “That’s enough, Chester, leave the good doctor be.” She made a small snap with her fingers, which halted Chester’s licks immediately and sent him scurrying to sit obediently at Mrs. Hooper’s feet. Ida had never seen a dog so impeccably trained.

  Daniel was trying to discreetly mop his wet hand with a napkin from the serving tray when Mrs. Hooper put down her iced tea and patted her lap once, which was Chester’s clue to hop into her arms. “Well now, I think I’ve taken up quite enough of your time. I see the children are still outside, and I expect they’ll want another round of fetch with Chester before I go.” She turned to Ida. “Thank you, dear, for coming to us for help. I look forward to our little project more than you know.”

  “I do too, Mrs. Hooper.” Ida took the hand Mrs. Hooper offered.

  “You must remember to call me Isabelle. Not in front of the children, of course, but I think we’ll be seeing a great deal of each other.” She rose, dog in hand as if he were as much an accessory as the beaded handbag at her wrist. “Would you take me back out into the yard, Dr. Parker? You may throw Chester’s ball first, if you’d like.”

  Ida watched the doctor lead Isabelle out into the yard, hiding a smile behind one hand. Oh, Father, have I done a good thing or a bad thing? I can’t tell if You’ve sent us Isabelle to bring blessings or if I’ve sent Dr. Parker a whopping aggravation. Surely only You know.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dr. Parker had in fact given Ida a wide berth for the rest of the afternoon, keeping to his offices rather than hunting her down to complain about Chester’s surprise visit. Ida surely wasn’t going to go seeking him out. Instead, she spent a luxurious evening rearranging the paint tins, reveling in the task of dreaming up color combinations. Moss Green and Wine for the trim in the boys’ areas, Pink Tint and Sky Blue—or maybe the yellow—for the girls. Could she dare talk Dr. Parker into something so extravagant as a mural? How lovely that would be in the dining room, if she could ever find the time for such a task. Find the time? Today Ida felt as if she could give up sleep for a week and paint all night if not for the lack of light that made such an idea impossible.

  Yes, the blue and yellow together, she decided as a knock came on her sitting room door. She’d told the girls they had permission to visit her anytime, but this was the first occasion a child had taken her up on the offer.

  Ida opened the door to see a red-eyed Donna Forley standing there twisting her skirts with anxious fingers. “Goodness, Donna, you look a fright. Come in.”

  Donna dashed into the room and vaulted herself onto Ida’s small couch, dissolving into sobs. This was no medical emergency, but a crisis of another kind, surely. Most likely one with the name Matty Hammond. “Oh, Nurse Landway, it’s just awful.”

  “I’m sure it feels that way,” Ida said, wondering what spat Donna and Matt had gotten into this time—the usually love-struck couple had often been arguing of late. “Why don’t you tell me all about it and we’ll see what can be done.”

  “Nothing,” moaned Donna in true teenage despair. “Not a thing.”

  “Well,” said Ida, pulling a handkerchief from her side table drawer, “tell me all about it anyway.”

  Donna heaved out a handful of further sobs, then sat upright and pulled in a dramatic deep breath. “He’s been just beastly.”

  Ida found the adjective a bit novel worthy, but kept silent and only offered a hand on Donna’s arm and a soft “How so?”

  “He says he doesn’t want to marry me.”

  They were nearly of an age; it shouldn’t have surprised Ida that orphans met and married in homes like this one. If she had to pick any two from the Parker Home who stood the best chance as a pair, it was surely Donna and Matthew. “Have you two been talking of marriage?”

  “We were.” Donna made sure Ida understood the past tense of that word.

  “Do you know what changed Matty’s mind?”

  “Sense,” Donna spat out like a curse. “Matty says it doesn’t make sense to get married soon.”

  Oh. So this was perhaps not about rejection, but impatience? “Are you saying Matty still wants to marry you but not just right now?”

  “A year after we graduate. A whole year. Honestly, Nurse Landway, I’ll die of waiting.”

  Ida felt a little humor might serve the situation. She made a grand show of taking Donna’s pulse. “Hmm. I’m quite sure you’re not in any danger of imminent death. Mr. Hammond might break your heart, but he won’t stop it from beating, I guarantee that.”

  Donna made a face, but at least she stopped crying.

  “I take it you don’t want to wait.”

  “Why?” It never ceased to amaze Ida how children could string that word out to be such a long, agony-filled syllable. “Why should we wait when we’re in love?”

  “Well, did you ask him why he thinks it makes sense to wait? Matty seems like a clever fellow to me.”

  “He wants to have a job. He’s choosing a job over me. He could find a job after we get married, couldn’t he? Why does it have to come first?”

  Having a secure income before marrying seemed like a sensible course of action to Ida, but Donna didn’t seem ready to hear that right now. “You want to be together now, don’t you? Hearts never want to be sensible, do they?” After so many years on her own, could she really blame Donna’s young heart for wanting to know it would never be alone again?

  “I think it makes all the sense in the world to get married as soon as we can. I don’t want to be out there without him.”

  “Out there” was a term Ida had heard the orphans use for the world beyond their years at the Home. “Out there” was by turns wonderful and scary, depending on the child and any number of circumstances.

  “It doesn’t sound to me like you’ll be without him at all.” She took Donna’s hand. “I reckon he wants to get himself settled in a job and be able to provide for you, and that’s a fine thing for a man to want to do. Shows mighty good character.”

  “I won’t care what kind of job Matty gets. I’ll love him no matter what.”

  “He’s blessed you love him so much, Donna, but men are funny about such things. God’s crafted most of them—not all of them, mind you, but most—to be providers. They need to know they can take care of the people they love. It’s why Dr. Parker works so hard to see that all of you have food and clothing and books and such.” She soothed Donna’s hand. “If you ask Matty if the heart part of him wants to marry you tomorrow, I’m sure he’d say yes. He loves you. Anyone can see that.”

  Donna sniffed. “He says he does.”


  “He’s just trying to do right by you the best way he knows how. The head part of him is trying to be sensible and have things all lined up before he takes you as his bride. That’s an admirable thing. What you have to do is convince the head part of you—” she tapped Donna’s forehead affectionately with her other hand, her own heart cinching in sympathy for the love-struck young woman “—to be patient enough to let him.”

  The girl seemed to be wrestling with the idea. Finally, reluctantly, she admitted, “I didn’t think of it that way. I told him he must not love me enough if he doesn’t want to marry me right away.”

  Oh, dear. Ida could see how that remark turned a conversation into an argument. “If you’re asking me, I think it means he loves you very much. You’re blessed he does, too, even if it means having to wait a whole year ‘out there.’”

  Donna fell back against the sofa cushions. “Whatever will I do out there?”

  Ida sat back to meet the girl’s eyes. “There are wonderful things to do at your age. I went to nursing school. My cousin worked in a shop, my friend became a baker. Ever since the war, there have been all kinds of things women can do. You know the US Congress passed an amendment giving women the right to vote last month, don’t you? That just goes to show it’s a fine time to be a woman your age, Donna, really. I hate to say ‘wait and see’ but it’s true.”

  “He hurt my feelings so much, I stomped out of the yard. Matty must hate me right now.” She looked at Ida. “Why is this so hard?”

  Ida laughed. “Honey, I wish I knew. Seems to me the battle between heads and hearts has been going on as long as time itself. Just seems harder when you’re young, I think.”

  “You’re smart,” Donna said, drying her eyes again. “Is love hard for you?”