“And she said he was old when she knew him, and was probably dead. He’s so frail, Jack. I find it hard to imagine him operating at all. And why would a woman who can afford to pay three hundred dollars settle for him? A steady hand is the very least a woman would want.”
Jack said, “They had resources, but don’t forget that all of the women we know about lacked connections. Some of them were from out of town, others were from overseas, a few were isolated for other reasons. Mrs. Schmitt’s husband is a Baptist minister, for example. None of them could go to sisters or cousins or aunts for advice on what doctor to consult. Now I wonder if we wasted a day looking for Neill Graham’s father or grandfather. I need to roust Oscar and get moving on this.”
He turned back suddenly. “This Kate Sparrow, she may not want to talk to us without you.”
“I could meet you there at noon, unless I have an emergency. And if it won’t be too long.”
He came around the table, leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Good.” He took a moment to look at her, his eyes moving over her face.
“Sometimes your eyes are brown and gold and green, and sometimes they seem mostly brown. Sometimes green. How do you do that?”
She tugged on an earlobe. “It’s a secret I dare not divulge.”
He smiled against her mouth when he kissed her, and then they both went off to get ready for work. The small bit of breakfast Anna had managed to get down lay like a lead weight in her gut.
? ? ?
ELISE HAD SAVED her time off without a specific plan for how to use it, until the trip to Greenwood came up. Even such a short trip—they would be gone overnight—was exciting. On Saturday morning she woke thinking that she had three full days, and committed herself to using the time to best advantage. She started the day by airing bedding, changing sheets, sweeping and dusting and polishing her way through all the bedrooms.
Mrs. Lee came marching upstairs, wanting to know if Elise was trying to put her granddaughter out of a job, or if she was just set on working herself to death.
“Let me,” Elise said. “Please let me. There’s enough to keep Laura Lee busy.”
Mrs. Quinlan steadfastly refused to accept any payment for board and lodging, but Elise needed to contribute in some way for her own peace of mind.
“Save your money,” the old aunt had said when Elise offered to help with household chores. “You’ll have expenses in medical school, even with a scholarship.”
Today while she worked Rosa followed her around, helping but mostly asking questions. Because, she pointed out, Elise knew more about the Catholic Church than anyone else in the house, which Elise herself had to admit was true.
So she answered questions about the Church hierarchy, about the pope and the archbishops and bishops and priests. Rosa wanted to know about nuns, and who was the boss of nuns, and if nuns and priests had to go to confession, and what if a priest or nun did something really bad?
Nothing Elise said seemed to satisfy her. The little girl wanted justice, and Elise could give her no such promise.
After lunch when the girls went upstairs for their naps, she raised the subject with Mrs. Quinlan.
“She trusts you,” Anna’s aunt said. “Do you find her questions distressing?”
Elise thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t say her questions distress me. It’s just that I left that life behind. Or I’m trying to. Not because I hold a grudge, as everyone seems to think. I have no grounds to be critical of the Church.”
Margaret pressed her lips together hard. Trying not to say what she thought of the Catholic Church, but sending the message anyway.
“I have no personal grounds,” Elise amended. “That doesn’t mean I don’t see that harm has been done—is still being done—to others. To Rosa. She wants me to be as angry as she is.”
“Maybe you should be,” Margaret said. “Maybe you will be, as time passes and you think things through.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Elise said, hearing the strain in her own voice. “Maybe I will feel that way some day. But right now I don’t have the time or the inclination to put the Church on trial. I need every bit of energy I can muster for the challenges ahead of me.”
After lunch Elise put Margaret and Rosa and the Church out of her head and settled down with her books and notes. There was an elderly woman at the New Amsterdam whose heart was failing, and she needed to understand more about what was happening to her.
Anna’s copy of Descriptive and Surgical Anatomy was well used, the binding loose and the covers a little warped. A whole army of paper strips populated the pages, each with notes written in a small version of Anna’s hand. She took the heavy book on her lap and it fell open of its own accord to page 570 (“The Lymphatic System of the Thorax”) to reveal a spray of rosebuds that had been pressed there for safekeeping.