The Last Bloom

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  “What would that something be, Clara?” she said softly.

  Clara smiled. “I’d like to travel and see new places. And maybe buy a store-bought dress now and then, instead of always wearin’ the home-made kind. Or go out to one of those fancy restaurants for dinner. Have someone serve me a meal for a change and do the cleanup.”

  Long after Cassia left Clara’s house, she thought of their conversation. Lying in bed that night, she began to wonder. She had always hoped to fall in love, marry, have her own home and a family. But in doing so, would she have to give up her wants and desires for a medical career?

  “No, not me,” she whispered to herself with conviction. “There comes a time, despite protocol’s voice, whereby a woman must listen to the calling of her heart…and follow it. I intend to do just that,” she vowed through a yawn. After rolling onto her side and fluffing her pillow, she reassured herself once more before sleep claimed her senses. “I will find a way to have it all.”

  Chapter Six

  The next day was the first day Cassia was officially on duty. Because she had also taken nurses training, as well as midwifery, her medical duties in town and at the SEL clinic would be extensive. She would be taking care of more than pregnant women throughout the day, so her uniform and medical bag would be different from that of only a midwife’s.

  Dressing in a short-sleeved, gray dress neatly belted at the waist and falling to mid-ankle length, she felt her heart race with anticipation. This was the day she had waited for, for so very long. Over the gray dress she wore a crisp, white apron with two deep pockets placed on each side, white hose kept up by garters, and white front-laced shoes with ample arch support for all the hours she’d be upon her feet.

  Her hair was too short to put up in a bun, so she smoothed and pinned back the curls framing her face, keeping the hair out of her eyes or from being a distraction. She secured a small, white nurse’s cap on the crown of her head. A hip-length, light-weight navy blue cape would suffice to keep her warm, if the spring temperature should call for it. But come the winter months, a long-sleeved dress would be worn beneath her apron, along with a mid-knee length, hooded cape of a warmer material and white gloves for outdoor use.

  Doctor O’Clarity would be by at seven a.m. to pick her up. The doctor confirmed the time last night when he called her using the telephone which was a wonderful invention. It made communication between homes available without making a trip to the person’s residence. City phone systems were more advanced then rural areas, so any household able to afford a phone had one. However, Eagle’s Landing was not yet as large a township. Therefore, only certain homes had phone service.

  Cassia’s house had a phone, since her father was the town’s clergyman. Doctor O’Clarity had both a phone at his office and in his home. The Eagle’s Landing General Store had a phone as well. This phone was the favorite of Maggie Granger, the store’s keeper. Her time on the device, mostly gossiping for her entertainment, interfered with the entire town’s use of the phone since lines were connected, thus called party lines.

  The delicious aromas from the kitchen had her hurrying to add a few finishing touches to her appearance. When she entered the dining area, her father looked up from the morning paper and smiled.

  “Now, there’s my baby girl, ready for her first day on the job,” he boasted with pride gleaming in his light blue eyes.

  “For Lord’s sake, Josh, when are you going to stop calling her a baby?” her mother scolded, turning from the cupboard and casting an adoring smile.

  “Never,” her father replied.

  Cassia sighed, taking a seat at the table. “Truth be told, I feel as vulnerable as a child. I’m just as scared as when I left for my first day of school.”

  Her mother placed a cup of tea in front of her. “And so, I will advise you the same way I did on that morning so many years ago. Pay attention to what you’re doing, and always do your best.”

  “And remember, it’s not about folks thanking you for their care, but instead you thanking God for the skills He’s given you to be of help to them,” her father offered. Leaning forward, he gave her hand an affectionate pat. “Always make time to talk to God throughout the day, Cassia. Having His ear will give you the strength to make difficult decisions, or accept those results you cannot change.”

  She nodded, knowing the difficulties her father spoke of. In the medical field, there was a lot of satisfaction in making someone well, in being instrumental in the recovery. But there were also those times when a doctor couldn’t cure a patient. The suffering continued despite all training and efforts, and the patient died. If a doctor didn’t have the strength to move past those times, he couldn’t continue to help the countless others who would soon need him next.

  “Staying sharp with a heavy heart is not always that easy.” She sipped her tea.

  “Then change your viewpoint,” her father advised. “Bring forth your ease, draw upon your comfort, by looking at the situation from a different angle. Calling attention to something other than your own hurts, fears, or distress, will give you the strength and clarity to cope with the situation at hand, and perform adequately.”

  “Protect me, O Lord, with Your refrain of liberation,” she muttered.

  “Aye, Cassia,” her father whispered. “And He will at that.”

  A knock at the back door ended their conversation. The doctor, ever reliable and punctual, declined the cup of coffee Amanda offered with a polite reply and the fact of not wanting to make Cassia late on her first day. Then he escorted her to his old, worn, partially covered, horse-drawn wagon.

  As she settled her backside upon the wood-planked seat, she sighed. “There are much quicker and more comfortable ways to travel now, Doc.”

  He chuckled lightly. “Aye, I’m well aware o’ the alternatives, as me children and dear wife have been singin’ such praises. But nothin’ is more reliable than this old mare hitched to this trusty wagon.”

  “And I’d have to say, mighty cold to ride in during the winter months.” She turned to look at him.

  “I get where ’tis I need to go, so I’m not complainin’. Besides,” he added, “I’m still hardy enough to cope with a bit o’ cold weather.”

  She looked deep into his emerald eyes. Instead of the usual twinkle she remembered, they appeared tired, red-rimmed. His gentle face was now haggard and worn. No doubt he sat up half the night with a sick person—stopping home long enough to change into clean clothes and grab a bite to eat…the eating part, she was sure, optional. It was how this man took care of his patients—thorough, with dedication and complete devotion. She had been on the other end of that professional concern when she was six years old. For days her body burned with fever, and throughout her illness Doctor O’Clarity was present, taking turns with her parents to swab her burning flesh with cold water, even going so far as to emerge her into a cold bath. This, she hoped, was the kind of medical caregiver she would turn out to be. Under Sean O’Clarity’s guidance, there would be no other way, as he would accept nothing less.

  I just pray I’m up for the task.

  “Not to fear now, Lass. Ye’re goin’ to be doin’ a fine job.”

  She arched a brow. “And now you can read minds?”

  He chuckled lightly. “Well, ’tis not so much yer mind I’m able to read, but the scared look upon yer face.”

  She sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Aye, Lass, but all will be fine. I don’t plan on leavin’ yer side until I know yer confident. Besides, ’tis always a bit easier seein’ sick folks at the SEL clinic, then ’tis trapsin’ all over the countryside. ’Tis exactly the reason I chose the location for yer first day.” He turned her way and smiled. “And by tonight, when I return ye to yer folks, ye’ll be too tired to ever remember how fearful ye were.”

  She frowned. “But with both of us at the clinic, who will be on call at Eagle’s Landing?”

  “Sadly there will be no one, for today. So, we must pray the good Lord
sees fit to direct all ailin’ humans to our clinic door. But when yer confident to make calls by yerself, we will split the work. Then both areas will be covered. ’Tis what I always hoped would happen when Brodie and…” He swallowed the end of his sentence.

  Cassia finished it for him. “When Brodie and Tucker became doctors.” It was her hope too—the Tucker part, anyway.

  “Aye, Lass, ’tis the truth o’ it.” He shrugged. “But Brodie didn’t want a country doctor’s life, and Tucker didn’t want a doctor’s life at all.”

  She cast her eyes to the folded hands in her lap. “Do you ever hear from either of them?”

  “Aye, from time to time,” he said. “Brodie is meetin’ well the demands o’ practicin’ medicine at a big hospital in Boston. Last he wrote us, he had himself a lady love.” He shrugged again. “Tucker hasn’t written in almost a year. Too busy, I suppose, with his duties and travelin’ all over God’s creation for the railroad.”

  She cleared her throat and gave the doctor’s hand a quick pat. “Well, you’ve got me, and together the two of us will do just fine.”

  He smiled. “I’m not worried in the least, Lass.”

  The two of them were silent for the remainder of the ride. The carriage wheels thumping over the covered bridge connecting Eagle’s Landing and South Eagle’s Landing lulled her, allowing her thoughts to wander. How was Tucker, and where could he be now? Was he happy with the choices he’d made for his life? Did he have a lady love too, like Brodie? Would he one day return to Eagle’s Landing, married?

  It was Doctor O’Clarity’s declaration of, “Well, Lass, here we be,” that pulled her back to the present, as well as all the people lined up outside of the clinic’s doors. Mostly women and children—lots of children—sick, crying and fussing as they waited for the clinic doors to open. And suddenly dread overcame her. An overwhelming lump forming in the pit of her stomach and a dull pain at the base of her neck reminded her of the days during the war, overseas. Never did the sick or injured let up, the constant flow, the immediate tasks, and doing her best at all times. It was stressful and exhausting.

  She sighed heavily. “Oh, my.”

  “Don’t let them take ye back, Lass.” Dr. O’Clarity pulled the horse to a stop. “All will be fine. We can only administer our attention to them, one at a time, and do the best with our God given skills.” He made a gesture with his hand to the waiting crowd. “They understand that and are thankful to be able to come to a place that’ll give them the help they seek and need.”

  She nodded, climbing down from the wagon and reaching for her bag which would be filled further with various clinic supplies for use during the home visits. As she followed Dr. O’Clarity through the doors, a strong, clean aroma of ammonia and bleach filled her senses. The clinic, consisting of basically one large room, was divided up by a series of screens and curtains arranged to form individual dressing and examining rooms. In each cubicle there was a linen covered examining table, a large stand holding a sufficient number of clean gowns, a wash basin, soap, towels and washcloths, gauze for bandages, rubber gloves, and cotton balls. Two chairs were provided, one for the patient’s clothes to be placed on and the other for the parent to sit upon while the child was examined. A second table held instruments and products used in addressing ailments, a garbage pail for discarded supplies, and a laundry bag for soiled linen, gowns, and towels. In another section there were two bathrooms, one for the men and another for the women, a patient waiting area furnished with twenty to thirty straight-backed wooden chairs, and a receptionist’s desk. At the end of the large room was a walled off area, which was the doctor’s private quarters. This room was furnished with a desk, file cabinets, bookcases filled with large leather-bound medical volumes, cabinets stocked with drugs, and a sink.

  Cassia’s first patient of the day was the baker’s son, nine-year-old Arnie Harland.

  “He’s gone and ate himself sick on a batch of molasses cookies,” Mrs. Harland explained, while drying Arnie’s tears with a handkerchief. “He knows better,” the mother grumbled. “Those cookies were for sellin’ in the store—not for little boys to be hoggin’. And when he’s done ailin’, he’s gonna get a switchin’ he’ll never forget,” she added. This announcement only made Arnie cry all the harder and louder.

  Cassia helped the blubbering boy onto the examining table. “Let’s get him undressed and in a gown so Dr. O’Clarity can examine him.”

  Mrs. Harland nodded and pulled off Arnie’s shoes and socks, while she removed his jacket and shirt. Then the boy’s mother undressed him from his trousers and underwear which Arnie definitely didn’t like.

  Covering his genitals with a hand, he sobbed, “I don’t want her lookin’ at me.”

  “It’s her job to take care of sick folks, so she ain’t payin’ no mind to whatcha got or haven’t got,” Mrs. Harland snapped. “Besides, ya should’ve thought about that before ya ate all them cookies.”

  Cassia reached for a gown. “Here, Arnie, let’s get this on you.”

  The boy nodded and put his arms through the gown’s sleeves.

  Cassia tied it securely at the nape of the neck and reached for a thermometer. “Roll over now, so I can see if you’re running a temperature.”

  “I can take it in my mouth,” Arnie informed her, sitting ridged on the table.

  She stifled a smile and replaced the rectal thermometer with the oral kind. Cassia looked into his ears and throat, listened to his heart, and took his pulse.

  When Dr. O’Clarity arrived, he listened to Cassia’s patient update as he hurried along with the examination, asking Arnie where it hurt. He felt along the child’s stomach and checked him for a hernia. “Well, me lad,” Dr. O’Clarity concluded. “Seems to me those cookies ye ate have left ye as full as anybody has a right to be. So, we need to clean the buggers out o’ ye.” He turned to Cassia. “A soapy enema will do the trick.”

  “Yes, Doctor,” she said.

  Upon leaving the cubicle to fetch an enema bag and bed pan, she heard Arnie shout, “Oh nooooo!”

  As the day progressed, she assisted in setting a broken ankle, a broken wrist, attended to diaper rash, coughs, allergies, headaches, upset stomachs, examined a few pregnant women, cleaned and bandaged a few burns, stitched up a few cuts, and gave another enema.

  On the ride home, she struggled to keep her eyes open and understood why Dr. O’Clarity looked so worn out. When he halted the horse at her house, she wearily climbed down from the wagon.

  “Eat a good dinner and get yerself to bed, Cassia,” he advised. “Tomorrow is the home visits.”

  All she managed was a nod.

  Do I even have the strength to chew dinner?

  She felt it doubtful as she slowly trudged her way to the front door.

  Chapter Seven

  In the days that followed, Cassia became busier and more exhausted than she ever could have imagined. She felt torn with so many wanting a piece of her time and attention. Besides the patients she helped care for, and helping her father clean the church for Thursday evening and Sunday services, her mother needed help putting together and cooking for a small going away gathering. Cassia’s sister-in-law, Riley; nephew, Silas; and niece, Anita would be traveling to England in a matter of days, and sending them off with a family dinner to remember was something very important to Amanda Holmes.

  It was important to Cassia as well, since this would be the last time for a long while she’d see her nephew, and the final time he’d be a permanent resident at Eagle’s Landing.

  The day of the event fell on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, following the church service. The guests arrived after changing from their Sunday best to comfortable clothes. The family sat around the dining table to feast on duck in orange sauce, asparagus, boiled potatoes, cranberry bread, and lemonade.

  As coffee was served, Silas stood, slowly glanced around at all his loved ones sitting at the table, and smiled. “I’ve been an extremely fortunate person, to have so many wonderful
kin folk to love and who love me in return.” He swallowed hard, blinking back the tears welling in his eyes. “That’s probably why leaving Eagle’s Landing will not be easy.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve always known this time and my obligation to continue our blood line at Collins Stead would come one day, just didn’t think it would be so soon.” He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “And I am both proud and excited to fulfill my duty, even if I am sad to leave. I only ask that you don’t forget me, will come often to England, and I will visit as well. I don’t want to—can’t lose sight of my family.”

  Cassia, tears cascading down her cheeks, stood and rushed to her nephew. As she embraced him, she whispered, “You will never be far from my heart.”

  Everyone took a turn hugging and kissing Silas, reassuring him of his place in the family and promising to visit at every chance available. It wasn’t long after that the gathering dispensed, all those invited departing for their homes and readying for a new day to dawn.

  As she said one last farewell at the door, she kissed her nephew. Standing on tiptoe to reach his cheek, a profound sadness enveloped her. She enjoyed the eight years she lived in England, but there was always the fact she’d return home to live out her life among those closest to her. How would she have felt if she had to live in England permanently?

  “You are quite a man, Silas,” she said. “And we’re all so proud of you.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I wish there had been more time for us to spend together.”

  “I do too,” she whispered.