“Just want you to know you aren’t the only educated person in the room.”
She set down the pitcher and basin. “Well, did you know that no piece of paper can be folded in half more than seven times?
He frowned. “What? I don’t believe you. Give me a sheet of paper. There’s some in the bedside table.”
She handed him a piece of the white paper. “That should keep you busy for a while. I’ll put this soiled nightshirt in the laundry hamper.” That task done, she picked up his poetry journal and read it aloud while he worked.
“As Life Continues
At First,
The world stopped.
Everything in our lives
Was The Accident.
Friends, family, doctors,
All keeping vigil
With love and support.
Quiet murmurs
That everything would be
Good again soon.
But time is relentless.
It moves on
Without fail.
Lives and routines resumed.
Friends returned home.
Family continued to work,
Consumed with the
Necessary tasks of life.
Yet I stay still.
Broken of body and heart.
Trapped in my new,
Useless, body.
Unable to move on
To grow and to prosper.
Life is divided
Pre and post accident.
And I remain stagnant.
Alive,
Yet not living.”
She sighed. “Daniel, that is poignant and heartbreaking. You are talented.”
He paid no attention as he folded. Then, he unfolded and started over. When the folded paper hit her, she looked at him.
He declared, “It’s only impossible because the folds become so thick. Maybe Grizzly could get more.”
“If you are admitting defeat, let us get busy on your exercises. Your cousins will not be here today and we are free to concentrate right away.”
He groaned. “Slave driver.”
Their banter was interrupted when Gran appeared. “I came to have my bandages changed and thought I’d watch your exercises.” She stared at the bars. “This is rather impressive. Clara, did you set this up alone?”
“I did. I brought the materials from Amsterdam. Daniel and I use them each day. During weekdays, Josh and Dallas come to give Daniel walking lessons. I’m sorry they won’t be here today to show you how clever they are.”
Gran gave a flick of her hand. “Austin described their method. He also mentioned that you can now move your toes, Daniel, so I suppose you are making progress.”
“Clara insists. I was telling her she’s a slave driver when you came in.”
“So I heard. Well, let’s see some action.”
Under Gran’s scrutiny, Clara hooked the harness onto Daniel and made certain his hands were secure on the parallel bars. She squatted in front of him and duck-walked backwards while moving his feet. As always, at the end of the bars, she helped him turn. Then, preceded him toward the place where they had begun. Over and over they made the same route.
On the third trek, Gran stood. “I don’t know how you can work like that, Clara. You must have very strong legs and an aching back.”
“When Daniel naps, I sometimes lie down for a bit.”
“I see you’re no longer wearing a dressing on your hands. I hope that means you weren’t badly burned.”
“I am fine. I hope you are not in pain.”
She held up her hands, turning them this way and that to examine their bandages. “Not unless I pick up something firm. By the way, I intend to replace the dress that was ruined while helping me.”
“That is not necessary. You were not responsible for the accident.”
“I insist. I’ll have my seamstress call on you this week. Now, I must go find my husband. Vincent and I are missing church today. I didn’t feel like dressing up and facing all the questions that were certain to bombard us. Besides, we’d arranged to have the bandages changed today.”
“I can understand your seeking privacy. People’s curiosity can be very trying even though they mean well.”
“Daniel, you keep working. I expect next time I come you’ll have made even more progress. Goodbye to both of you.”
Daniel called, “Gran, aren’t you staying for dinner?”
She stopped in the doorway and shook her head. “Another time. Yesterday upset me and right now, I want to go home.”
When Gran had gone, Daniel begged to be allowed a nap. When he was stretched out on the bed, Clara read aloud another of his poems.
“Scout
One moment,
One tiny, excruciating moment,
And your life stopped
In a cacophony of pain
And confusion.
My partner,
My companion
Breathed his last
And ceased to be.
When they told me
You were gone
I wept.
And now,
As I lay
Mired in pain,
I miss you,
Old friend.”
She closed the book. “That almost made me cry.”
His face grew red. “You’re making fun of me.”
“That was a compliment. These are beautiful, sensitive poems. I envy your ability to write. That you can also paint is unfair.”
He gestured at the walls. “If there’s a painting you want, take it.”
“Really? You would give me one?” She laid the poetry journal on the chest of drawers.
He shrugged but didn’t meet her eyes. “It’s not a big deal if you want to choose one. Don’t feel obligated, though.”
“Each painting is wonderful.” Slowly, she walked the length of his room and gazed at the pictures and stopped in front of her favorite. “I especially love the one of this home. I had planned to ask Rebecca how much they sell for and see if I could afford this.”
He burrowed into his pillows. “If you’ll let me sleep for an hour, it’s yours.”
“You have a deal.” She took the painting from the wall and left his room before His Orneriness changed his mind.
***
Two days later during Daniel’s rest time, unusual guests arrived. Kathryn answered the door then called Clara from her room.
A beautifully dressed woman of middle age paused in the middle of the parlor and clapped her hands shoulder height. “I am Madame Thibodaux and this is my assistant, Sylvie. I have come to measure a dress for Miss Van Hoosan.” Madame’s dress was black taffeta of the latest style.
Sylvie was about forty, thin, and almost haggard. Her dress was also black and very plain, though, a lovely style.
Kathryn grinned mischievously. “Clara, I don’t think you need my help with these ladies.”
The dressmaker stared aghast. “What is this… this terrible costume you wear?” She walked around Clara as if she were a specimen in a museum.
“My uniform. I am a mechanotherapist here to treat Daniel McClintock.” Clara gestured toward her room. “We can talk in there.”
“Talk? No, you must remove those horrid clothes and strip to your chemise. Quickly.” She clapped her hands again.
Did this person speak this imperiously to Gran? Clara led the two women into her room then closed the door.
“Are you certain I must undress?”
“Oui, to your chemise.” She clapped her hands again. “My tape, Sylvie.”
Although Clara resented Madame’s attitude, she was excited to have a new dress sewn by a dressmaker. She undressed and stood for Madame to measure her.
“What is this? You wear no corset? Scandalous.”
“I need freedom of movement for my work.”
Madame measured and tut tutted and called numbers to her assistant.
Clara asked, “Is something wrong, Madame Thibodaux?”
“What kind and color of fabric?”
“Silk and faille in blue the color of your eyes and trimmed in Honiton lace. You know Queen Victoria’s wedding costume was of this same lace. This dream creation I will construct especially for you in the latest fashion. You will look lovely and, of course, the dress will be magnificent.”
Clara had to suppress laughter at the dressmaker’s conceit. “When will it be ready?”
Madame waved dismissively. “It will be ready when it is ready. Do not concern yourself. I will bring the garment here for a fitting. You have to do nothing.” She clapped her hands at Sylvie, who hurried to take charge of the tape measure.
“Have you finished with me for today?”
“Yes. I suppose you plan to put on that horrid costume again.” She shuddered. “It is unflattering and ugly. Why do you wear it?”
“I explained that I am a mechanotherapist. I must wear clothing that allows me to get on the floor, to give a massage, and to move in various ways while I work with my patient. I can’t be hindered by a corset, wide skirts, or lots of petticoats and ruffles.”
Madame tut tutted again. “This color is not good for you. You should have this in gray if you want it to look like a uniform. Yes, a blue-based gray would be much better.”
Clara was surprised she liked Madame’s idea. “When I sew a new one, I will choose gray.”
“Good. We will be back to fit the dress. Bonne après midi.”
“Bonne après-midi. Merci d'être venu. J'ai hâte de voir la robe.”
Madame’s eyes rounded. “Come, Sylvie.” The two left in a rush.
As soon as they had gone, Kathryn sauntered into the room. “What did you think of the local modiste?”
“I didn’t have time to think much, except that she is as French as we are.”
Kathryn laughed. “You’re clever. I didn’t understand what you said, but I heard you speak what I think was French to her. I’ll bet she was surprised.”
“I only bid her good afternoon and thanked her for coming and told her I look forward to seeing the dress. She rushed away right after that.”
Kathryn was still laughing. “Her real name is Bertha Wellburn, but she’s from San Antonio, not France as she pretends.”
Clara laughed too. “I suppose she thinks a French dressmaker will be more in demand.”
“She’s right and she’s very good. Poor Sylvie must lead a harried life. Madame treats the woman like a slave. In some way they’re related but I don’t remember how.”
“I told Gran there was no need for her to replace my dress. I have figured a way to cut out the burned section and use the panniers as replacement fabric. I think no one will know the difference.”
Kathryn raised her eyebrows. “When Gran makes up her mind to do something, it’s best to go along.”
Clara giggled. “I must admit I am excited to have a new dress neither my aunt nor I sewed.”
When she went back to Daniel’s room, he was reading.
He closed the book. “That sounded like quite an experience. So, you speak French.”
“Most people in The Netherlands speak at least smatterings of French and English and German and Danish plus some Dutch dialects. America is so large you do not realize how small the countries are in that part of Europe. People travel back and forth easily.”
“Do you speak all those languages?”
“Yes. To be in business, one needs them. If I had remained in my little village with my parents, I doubt I would know more than a few Dutch dialects.”
“Hmm, I manage a little—very little—Texas German. Many Germans settled in this part of Texas in the last century. I speak Spanish very well, at least the Texas version, which is more Mexico than Spain. You need to learn. You’re bound to have Mexican patients who don’t speak much English.”
“That is a good idea. Perhaps you can teach me—if you will not trick me so I say rude things without knowing I am.”
He grinned and laid his right hand on his heart. “I can teach you and I won’t deceive you, I promise. Since you know so many languages, you’ll pick up a new one in no time.”
“This has been a good day. I am getting a new dress and have found a language teacher.”
Chapter Ten
Two days later, Madame Thibodaux and Sylvie showed up. Fortunately, once again they arrived during Daniel’s rest time. They went immediately to Clara’s room. Madame carefully unwrapped and revealed the dress.
Clara was dumbstruck.
Madame snapped, “Well, what do you think? Have you no words today?”
Clara clasped her hands to her chest. “This is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”
Madame preened. “But of course. Did I not say it would be magnificent? Off with that distressing uniform so I can judge how this fits.”
Eager to try the gown, Clara hurriedly stripped to her chemise.
The dressmaker motioned with her hands. “You will step into the dress which Sylvie will fasten for you.”
Clara couldn’t see the mirror from where she stood. As soon as Sylvie completed the buttons, Clara moved so she could see her reflection.
She turned from side to side and faced the mirror. “I-I am a different person. You are truly a gifted artist, Madame.”
Madame made a bored expression. “Of course, but you must do something more… clever with your hair. Before you wore a long braid and now a bun. What are you thinking?”
“I am thinking of keeping my hair out of the way while I work.”
“Tut tut, a woman as beautiful as you should not be working. Do you not have a man?”
Insulting as Madame was, Clara laughed. “I will never depend on a man to provide for me. If I marry, it will be because I am in love and loved.”
“Too bad because that rarely happens.”
“My hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Austin McClintock, are in love and so are their oldest son and his wife and their adopted son and his wife. Mr. and Mrs. Vincent McClintock also are in love. Do you find these four couples so rare?”
She placed a hand at her throat. “You have shocked me. I will have to meditate on this. Your dress will be even more magnificent when completed. I will bring it to you in a few days.”
Sylvie had rewrapped the protective muslin around the gown and followed Madame from Clara’s room. This time, Madame did not bid Clara farewell in French.
***
One Sunday, when everyone else had gone to church, Clara was giving Daniel his massage. She worked with each of his legs, encouraging blood flow to the muscles. His current condition troubled her.
Too much time had passed since his toes first moved. He should have had a new result by now. He was becoming negative again and she did not know how to cheer him.
“Clara?” When she looked up, he wore an odd expression.
She paused. “What is it? Are you in pain?”
“I had an odd sensation, as if my bladder was full.” He tugged at his wet diaper and exposed his erect penis. “Yahoo! I work. Do you see that? I’m back a man again.”
She moved beside the bed. “You were always a man. I am pleased for you that you have achieved an erection. This relieves your mind, does it not?” She turned to get a clean diaper, giving thanks that his progress would restore his will to follow her exercises.
Before she could move away, he grabbed her and pulled her beside him. “Let’s make love.”
She tried to pull away. “How like a man. Five minutes you have recovered your manhood and you want to have intimate relations. This is not only premature, but it is not going to happen.”
He embraced her. “All right, but stay here beside me for a while. Remind me I’m still a man.”
His kiss took her by surprise but she could not summon the w
ill to force herself away. The kiss deepened and grew fervent. His hands moved over her, cupping her breasts.
She pulled away and grabbed his hand. “Stop, Daniel. You have not seen a woman who was not a family member for two years. I don’t want to be your guinea pig simply because I am at hand.”
He caressed her face. “You aren’t a substitute, Clara. I’m crazy about you.”
She leaned on her elbow in order to look into his eyes. “You do not even like me. You have told me so many times.”
“You know that was frustration. I apologize if I offended you. I admire you a great deal but you intimidate me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why would that be?”
“Because you’ve been halfway across the world. You’ve attended a university, speak all those languages, know about healing broken bodies, and are really smart.”
“You are intelligent as well as gifted at painting and poetry and keeping books. Besides, you said I am a Viking.”
He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “But, that’s not a bad thing. You’re gorgeous, like a Viking goddess. A golden goddess with deep blue eyes. But, if I learn to walk, I’ll be taller than you.”
“When you learn to walk, you will be.” She scooted so their heads were even. “Your feet are below mine several inches. But, you have on not enough clothing.”
He hugged her again then released her. “I know. I wanted to celebrate with you. If you are afraid I’ll break, then I’ll try to convince you another time.”
She would have preferred remaining beside him for a long time. Instead, she rose to get him a clean diaper. Lying there with his genitals exposed was hardly appropriate, even though she saw his body as part of her work. At least, she tried to do so. Keeping impersonal was becoming more and more difficult.
“I am supposed to remain professional and businesslike with you. I have failed at that part of my job.”
“I hope that means you are at least a little attracted to me because I am very much so to you.”
When he was cleaned and clothed, she sat at the foot of his bed. “Daniel, you know it is very common for a patient to think he is in love with the therapist who helps him. How long since you’ve seen a woman not related to you other than Emma?”
“A couple of years, but that doesn’t matter. I know what I feel and it’s not some crush. I’ve had those and I know the difference.” He punched the bed with his fist. “Hell, guess it’s not important because you deserve a fitter man. Besides, you said you plan to have your own clinic and I suppose that means a large city.”
Daniel McClintock Page 9
