by Ann Gabhart
By the time the doctor arrived, she and Kate had cleared out the dirty clothes and dishes containing bits of food long forgotten. Nadine had put a bowl of vinegar and water in the window to deodorize the air. The small room trapped the afternoon heat, so she had helped her father out of his suit pants and shirt and sponged his chest and legs with cold water.
It had been years since she’d seen him without his clothes, and he looked diminished lying there in only his underwear. Hours ago he had been in control of his world, ready to impose his will on those around him, and now he was an invalid unable to even empty his bladder without assistance. She had tried to help him as matter-of-factly as possible, but it wasn’t something a father wanted his daughter to help him do.
Dr. Blackburn pinched her father’s arms and legs and poked the bottom of his left foot with a needle. No response. He prepared a draught of medicine and showed Nadine how to hold her father’s head so that all the medicine wouldn’t slide out the wrong side of his mouth and down on the bedcovers.
At the doctor’s suggestion, Nadine propped pillows behind her father so that he was in more of a sitting position. “That will help him breathe easier,” Dr. Blackburn said as he put his instruments back into his black bag.
It did more than that. It also seemed to restore a modicum of her father’s dignity as he reached down with his good hand and pulled a sheet across his legs and lower body. He still could not speak, but it was obvious he had no trouble understanding the words spoken to him.
Dr. Blackburn pulled up a chair close to the bed and sat down. “You’ve been with me in enough sickrooms to know that this is not a good thing, Brother Orrin.” The doctor, who was almost as old as Nadine’s father, had kind eyes and a caring bedside manner. He always looked a bit rumpled, as though he didn’t have time to worry with his personal needs when so many people needed his care.
Nadine’s father laid his right hand on the Bible still beside him on the bed and inclined his head a bit.
“However, there are many cases where people do recover some of their faculties, and there is no reason to believe that you won’t be one of them. After a time of rest and with the prayers of your people, I would not be surprised to see you regain some use of your arm and leg.”
Nadine’s father pointed toward his mouth and made an attempt to speak. Still no words they could understand.
The doctor shook his head a bit and looked sad. “It’s very trying for you, I know. Not being able to communicate with your voice. You may even feel you are saying the right words in your head, but they aren’t coming out of your mouth right. Time and rest may help that too. Lean on the Lord, Brother, and look to him for your strength.” Dr. Blackburn’s eyes didn’t waver as he stared straight at the man on the bed. “I won’t lie to you. The days ahead are going to be very difficult, but you are a man strong in the spirit. I believe you will get better. You must believe that too. Miracles do happen, but in the Lord’s own time. Not our time.”
On the way out, the doctor stopped to treat Carla for her nervous attack. As Nadine watched him listening to her heart, soothing her with his words and stirring up powders that were probably nothing more than sugar in a glass of water, she thought it would take more of a miracle to get Carla off the couch than Nadine’s father out of the bed. But then as the doctor said, miracles did happen.
17
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The summer of 1917 was a time of miracles for Nadine. All across the country people were gearing up for war. Uncle Sam popped up on recruitment posters everywhere. Even in Merritt’s Dry Goods Store in Rosey Corner. Men between the ages of twenty-one and thirty were required to register for the draft, but younger men were lining up to go fight for democracy too. Factories were being converted into munitions factories. Farmers were plowing new fields. Victory gardens were sprouting in every backyard.
In spite of the dire reports coming in from Europe, enthusiasm and excitement blew hot across the country, fanning the patriotic fires. The American soldiers were going across the sea to save the Allied forces. Lafayette had come across the Atlantic to help America win her independence and now it was time to repay the favor. The song “Over There” echoed in the air.
Nobody wanted to think about the millions of French and English casualties. It would be different when the Americans got there. But first they had to be trained. State militias were mobilized and sent over to France early in the summer, but most of the new recruits needed training in the business of war, so the army began feverishly building training camps to turn men and boys fresh off the farm or out of the factories and schools into soldiers. One of those training camps was outside Louisville.
It was also a summer of love for Nadine and Victor. That too seemed a miracle. They married on the last day of May in Edgeville. Gertie and Wyatt stood up with them. Neither father bothered to note the day in any way.
Nadine had wanted to stand with Victor in the church that was like a second home for her and seek the blessing of the Lord on her marriage. She had also hoped for the blessing of her father. She and her father had been through so much together. Her mother’s death. Lean years at the church. Times of sickness. Nadine had dug potatoes out of the ground, picked beans, and killed chickens to put on their table. She caught rainwater to wash their clothes and heated irons on the stove to iron the wrinkles out of her father’s shirts. She brushed and laid out his black suit for him every Sunday. She mothered James Robert. She had carried the load of caring for the household on her young shoulders and done everything she could to seek the love and approval of her father. And even though she always seemed to fall short, she had never stopped trying.
So she swallowed her pride and cornered her father at the church early one Wednesday before prayer meeting to ask him to perform her marriage ceremony. She rehearsed her words all day until they seemed polished and sure. She even spoke them aloud on the way across the pasture field to the church where there was no one to hear but Mr. Archer’s cows.
And the Lord. She asked the Lord’s help not only in changing her father’s heart but her own as well. To give her understanding and not resentment. To help her accept Carla Murphy’s presence in her father’s life. To help her put away the pride that led to sin. To remember to honor her father as the Bible instructed.
Her heart pounded as she made her practiced speech. “Father, I apologize for my angry words about Miss Carla. I should have bridled my tongue and respected your decisions regarding your own life.” She stopped to pull in a shaky breath as a frown began growing between his eyes. She hurried on before he could speak. “I would also hope you might respect the decisions I make. I love Victor Merritt and he loves me.”
“A Merritt never loved anything but money,” her father growled as the storm grew in his eyes.
She held up a hand and was relieved to see it was not trembling as she said, “Wait. Please let me finish. I am old enough to marry, and now that I am almost out of school and you are married yourself and with the war, I don’t want to wait. It would mean so much to me if you would perform the ceremony for me and Victor.”
“So you’ve come crawling to me for my approval?” He took his reading glasses off and carefully folded them before he laid them on his Bible.
She clamped down on her resentment at his words. She had come across the field prepared to beg. If that was what he wanted, then she was willing to indulge him. “Yes.”
He looked at her for a long moment before he picked up his reading glasses again and rubbed them off on his shirt. With great care, he positioned them back on his nose and picked up his Bible. Finally he answered her. “You won’t get it. Not for marrying a Merritt.” He began reading his Bible again.
Nadine stared at his bent head. She knew she had been dismissed and that he expected her to accept his word as final and slink away. All her life she’d done what he said. He was not only her father; he was a man of God. But she had confronted him about Carla and not been stricken down by him or by the Lord. She stoo
d in front of him and let the minutes tick away until he finally looked up at her again.
“Why?” she asked.
He pretended to not know what she meant. “Why what?”
“Why do you hate the Merritts?”
His frown furrows got deeper. “A Christian man cannot hate. ‘He that loveth not knoweth not God for God is love.’ First John 4:8. So I do not hate. That is a despicable word.”
“Then what do you have against Victor?”
“I am only looking out for you, Nadine. Trying to keep you from making a mistake. While I certainly do not hate the Merritts, I do know them. I’ve lived with them here in this community all my life. Preston Merritt cares nothing for spiritual things, only how much money he can accumulate.”
“Victor and his father go to church. Every Sunday.”
“It takes more than sitting in a church pew to make a man right with God.” Her father pointed his finger at her. “Surely you’ve heard enough of my sermons to know that. The good Lord wants men to be committed to building up the kingdom of God instead of stepping on whoever is in the way to build up their own kingdoms.”
“Victor isn’t like that. He’s kind and gentle and loving.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” her father said.
“Is it because they have money and we don’t?” Nadine sought a reason.
“I care nothing for monetary things. You know that. I trust the Lord to take care of our needs.” Her father peered at her over his reading glasses. “Now be off with you. I am deep in the Scripture, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind about saying the words to marry you to a Merritt. I will not do it.”
“You are a hard man, Reverend Reece.” She stared at him as she ripped free from her need for his approval. The wound hurt, but it would heal. “But neither will I change my mind. I am going to marry Victor whether you say the words or not.”
He stared back at her, unrelenting. “Then so be it. I will pray that you will not regret your decision, but not all prayers are answered.”
“My prayer has been.” Nadine would not let him beat her down.
Her father smiled in a pitying way. “Victor Merritt is no answer to prayer.”
“Perhaps not your prayer, but mine, yes.”
The wedding ceremony in Edgeville a week later was short. She and Victor stood side by side in a Reverend Barton’s parlor as he pronounced the words and proclaimed them man and wife. She and Victor joined hands and lives and didn’t go back to Rosey Corner. Wyatt took them to the train station where they bought a ticket for Louisville.
On the platform before they boarded their train, Gertie promised to take care of Victor’s mother as best she could. Victor hugged her and promised to write. Nadine stood outside their family circle and felt very alone. She had told James Robert goodbye the night before out in the garden as they knelt among the rows, pulling weeds out of the beans and onions. Beans and onions that neither of them would be there to eat.
Nadine had pushed the dirt up around the roots of one of the bean plants and then fingered the leaves. “These beans are from the same seeds that Mother planted. She loved growing things.” Nadine stared at the plant and felt near tears. “I still miss her so much. Do you?” She looked over at James Robert, who had stopped pulling weeds and instead was crumpling dirt clods and letting the dirt sift through his fingers.
“Every day. Was she as beautiful as I remember?” He looked up from the dirt at Nadine.
“Yes. You have her red hair.”
“I remember her eyes were blue like yours,” James Robert said.
“Do you remember how she used to sing hymns in the kitchen while she cooked?” She looked off across the yard toward the trees as she heard the echo of those songs in her head. “Sometimes she sang the same verse over and over again.”
“Yeah, I liked hearing her sing. After she died, I used to cry whenever we sang ‘Higher Ground’ at church.” He looked near tears even now at the thought.
“I know.” Nadine reached over and touched his arm. “That was her favorite.”
“Yeah. But you know what I remember best about her?” James Robert looked over at Nadine with a hint of a smile.
“What?”
“The way she laughed. How she could make us all laugh.” He looked away from Nadine down at the ground again. He picked up a small round rock that looked almost like a clod of dirt and studied it for a long moment before he threw it out of the garden. “Everything changed when she died. Everything.”
“She didn’t want it to,” Nadine said softly. “She wanted us to keep being happy. Do you remember how she had us all come in by her bed the night she died? She made you and me and Orrin Jr. all put our hands on top of hers on her heart and promise that we would take care of one another and never forget how much she loved us.” Nadine reached over and took his hand. It was rough and strong and so much bigger than it had been that night so long ago.
He looked from her hand to her face. “I’m fourteen, Nadine. I’m not a little boy anymore. You don’t have to take care of me now.”
“I know.” She tightened her hold on his hand. She didn’t want to let go. She was afraid she might never see him again. “You’re like our mother, you know. Sweet-tempered. Kind. Loving.”
“I don’t laugh as much.”
“None of us have laughed enough.”
He put his other hand on top of hers. “I’m glad you’re marrying Victor. I like him.”
“I’m going to miss you so much, James Robert,” Nadine said as tears began to gather in her eyes.
“We’re not dying,” he said, a little embarrassed by her tears.
“No, not dying,” she agreed. “Do you remember the baby? Essie?”
“Essie?” He frowned. “You mean Mary?”
“Mary was her burying name. Essie was her living name before she died.” Mary Reece was what her tombstone read. Their father hadn’t named the baby until her burial. But that wasn’t her name. Nadine had named her Essie for her mother, Estelle, and she’d never seen any reason to change it just because of some letters chiseled in stone.
“I hated her. I know she was just a little baby, but I hated her, and then after she died, I felt like maybe I’d caused it by hating her.” He looked worried as he asked, “I didn’t, did I?”
“No, of course not. She was just too little. She needed more than I, more than all of us, could give her after Mother died. And you didn’t really hate her. You would have loved her if she had kept breathing.” Nadine blinked away her tears as she managed a shaky smile. “She would have been six this year. Sometimes I see her playing out in the yard. I mean not really. Just in my head.”
“Do you want me to stay here? Not go to Indiana?” he asked.
“No, no. You’ll like it with Orrin Jr. and Arabelle. You’ll have fun being Uncle James Robert to their two little ones.”
“I’m thinking of telling people my name is J.R. when I get up there. What do you think?” His cheeks turned a little red. “Sometimes people want to call me Jimmy Bob when I tell them my name is James Robert. I’m not a Jimmy Bob.”
“No, definitely not.” Nadine tried out the new name. “J.R. J.R. Reece. Sounds important. I like it.” Her smile was steadier as she pulled his hand up with hers until she held it over her heart. “No matter what happens to us, never forget how much I love you, J.R. You’re my brother.”
There on the train platform in Edgeville watching Gertie and Victor hug and say their goodbyes, Nadine again felt the ache of tears building up in her eyes, but she didn’t let them spill out. As James Robert had said, nobody had died. They were growing, stepping toward their destinies.
So she hadn’t cried then. She hadn’t cried until the train went through Rosey Corner and there was James Robert standing out in the field by the track, waving at every passenger car that passed to be sure not to miss her. She leaned out the window to wave back, and her tears could no longer be denied. Victor hadn’t been upset
. He simply held her and whispered promises of love in her ear.
18
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The Louisville train station was bustling when they arrived. Soldiers stood on the platform telling their loved ones goodbye. Piles of crates waited for somebody to haul them away. Horses placidly flicked away flies with their tails as they stood hitched to carriages waiting to carry people away from the station. Men in suits hurried about, their steps sure and certain, while other men looked as if they’d just arrived from the country and were as lost as Nadine. She’d never been farther from Rosey Corner than Edgeville.
Victor had. He’d often come with his father to Louisville to buy stock for the store. So he wasn’t overwhelmed by the crowds, and Nadine was glad to put her hand in his and let him lead the way. He slung his canvas bag over his shoulder, picked up her valise, and promised the boardinghouse Graham Lindell had told them about wasn’t far. Graham had stayed there the year before when he was in Louisville with his grandfather for some kind of political event.
The boardinghouse lady, Mrs. McElroy, was a large round woman who laughed as she took their money and pointed them to the attic room. “You’ll have a bit of privacy up there, and you’re young so the stairs won’t be a hindrance to you.” She leaned a bit closer to them and winked. “Plus the man in the room below you is deaf as a post, so you can bounce around on the bed all you want. Being newlyweds and all.”
Every inch of Nadine’s skin burned red at the woman’s words. Of course she’d wondered about her wedding night, but only in a vague, dreamy way. What little she knew about love came from poems and stories. The actual act of lovemaking was not something a proper young preacher’s daughter was supposed to think too much about, but now as she looked at the amused glint in Mrs. McElroy’s eyes, she felt unprepared and too young. She wanted to get back on the train and go back to Rosey Corner to ask Gertie for advice.
