Joy Takes Flight (24 page)

“Nena's excited to see you.”

“I've been wanting to see her too. I've been worried, hoping you and your family weren't sick.”

“We're all right, so far.”

Kate hadn't told Nena about the baby. She hated to talk about what had happened. There were always questions, which stirred up memories of that night and what was supposed to be.

When Kate walked into the Turchiks' home, the children were lying on the floor playing a game of cards. They looked up, smiles brightening their golden round faces. They leaped to their feet and ran to her. Kate gave them all hugs, and then the children surrounded Angel patting and stroking her.

Nena set aside a piece of fabric she'd been sewing. “Kate. So glad you are here.”

“Me too. When I heard about the epidemic, I was worried about all of you.”

“No sickness here. We are thanking God.” She smiled, and then her eyes moved to Kate's abdomen and her forehead creased with concern. “Did you have your baby?”

Kate swallowed hard. “Yes. But she came early, too early. We buried her in a grove of trees behind our house.”

Nena's eyes flooded with tears. “I am so sorry. So sorry.” She pulled Kate into her arms and held her, gently rocking her back and forth.

Kate rested her cheek on Nena's shoulder, feeling as if her own mother were holding her. Finally she straightened but held onto Nena's arms. “It was a girl. Paul tried hard to save her, but she was too small.” A baby's squall came from one of the back rooms. Kate's throat constricted for a moment, then she asked, “How is your little one?”

“Good. She's good.” Nena shuffled into the back of the house and appeared a few moments later with an infant bundled in a blanket and cradled against her shoulder. She held her out so Kate could see her. “This is our Katie.”

“You named her Katie?” Kate could barely see through a blur of tears. There were no words.

“If you hadn't saved my life, this baby would never have been born. So when me and Joe see that it is a girl, we know her name is Katie.” She held the child out to Kate.

Taking the infant into her arms, Kate couldn't stop her tears. She held the baby close, drinking in the smell of her and embracing every little mewling sound.

“One day, you and Paul will have another baby,” Nena said. “Me and Joe, we lost a baby, a little boy.”

“You did? You've never said anything.”

“He was perfect, but God took him to heaven. After that, he gave us Peter and Nick and Mary and now our Katie.” She stood close and pulled both Kate and the baby into her arms. “You'll be a mama one day. I know it.”

Kate wanted to believe her, but what about Paul? She handed Katie back to her mother. “Paul's in San Francisco.”

“San Francisco? Is that far away?”

“Yes. Very far away.”

“Why is he there?”

“His mother died. It's where he grew up. When he left, I thought he would come home soon, but he's still there and he's going to work in a hospital in the city. He said it was just for a little while, but . . .” Kate shrugged. “I think he loves it there.”

“No. He loves Alaska. He loves you.”

“I hope so.”

“He'll come back. He belongs here.”

Nena wasn't the first to say that, but Kate knew that once San Francisco had been his home. How did he feel now that he'd returned?

A
breeze ruffled Paul's hair as he stepped off the cable car. The scent of sea air, baked goods, and coffee wafted through the streets. The bell of the cable car sounded sweet amidst the dissonance of congested automobiles. In the distance the deep blue bay glistened in the morning sunlight.

He felt almost lighthearted. It was one of those perfect days that swept away gloom. He wished he could share this with Kate and wondered what she was doing at this very moment. More than likely she was flying, seeing to the needs of Alaskans. Concern, like that of a father who'd lost sight of his child in a crowd, reached for him. He reminded himself that Kate was no child and he was not her father.

Paul walked toward St. Francis Hospital, knowing that fog and clouds could be counted on to creep back into the city and blot out the sun and its warmth. He stopped and stared at the four-story block building, which was divided into three wards. This was where his career as a doctor had begun. As an intern, he'd walked through the doors those many years ago, insecure and uncertain he'd chosen the right career. Time and experience had given him confidence . . . until the day when he'd made the gravest of all errors.

Today he felt like the intern again, anxious and wondering if he belonged here. How had he allowed Walter to talk him into returning, even if it was just for a few weeks? He'd come back to San Francisco to see his mother and to say farewell to her, not to work at the hospital or reestablish himself in the city. Even with so many sick with influenza, he knew he ought to be on a ship heading home to Kate. But he felt stuck—Audrey was still sick and she was relying on him. Walter needed his help. But Kate needed him too.

As he approached the hospital doors, his anxiety and anticipation mounted. He didn't know what to expect. All he knew was, he was supposed to meet Walter here.

He walked up steps to the main entrance. Lattice-paneled double doors led into a foyer. He reached for the handle, hesitated, fighting the sensation that he didn't belong. He wondered what his mother would have thought of his returning to work at the hospital.

He opened the door and stepped into a tiled lobby. There he was greeted by familiar green walls, the antiseptic odor and subdued character of the hospital. Throwing back his shoulders and straightening his spine, he walked toward a desk where a woman sat at a typewriter.

She looked up at him and smiled. “May I be of assistance?”

“Yes. I'm Paul Anderson and I'm supposed to meet Dr. Walter Henley.”

“Oh yes. Dr. Henley told us to expect you.” She glanced at a corridor to the left. “I believe he's in the doctors' lounge.”

“It's been awhile.”

“Right through those doors,” She nodded to the left. “Turn down the first corridor to the right and the lounge is on the left.”

“Thank you.” Paul made his way down the corridor, passing a nurse along the way. She looked familiar, but he only nodded and kept moving. When he reached the lounge, it was empty, which was okay. He needed time to collect himself.

The door swung open behind him and Walter walked in. He wore a broad smile and his pale blue eyes were bright with pleasure, making him look younger than his fifty years. He extended a hand. “Wonderful to see you. I'm grateful for your help.” He swung open a narrow closet door in a row of closets. “While you're working here, you can keep your things in this locker.” He stepped back, revealing a place for hanging clothing, with a shelf on top for personal items. He fished out a white coat hanging inside and handed it to Paul. “I guessed at the size. Hope it fits.”

Paul shrugged out of his overcoat and hung it up in the locker, then put on the white jacket. He held out his arms. “Feels about right.”

“And I thought you might need this.” Walter lifted a stethoscope out of his jacket pocket and offered it to Paul.

He took it and draped it around his neck. “Now I feel at home,” he said with a smile. And he did—the white coat and the stethoscope made him feel like he belonged.

Walter clapped him on the back. “Glad to hear that.”

Paul set a lunch pail on the shelf. “Carolyn.” He grinned. “I think she's decided I need mothering.” The thought that he no longer had a mother broke over Paul like a wave crashing against the shore. “I guess maybe I do,” he barely managed to say.

“I'm sorry, Paul. She was a fine woman.”

“She was indeed.”

“So, you ready to go to work? I thought you might like to make rounds with me later today.”

“I'd like that.” He sucked in a breath.

Walter reached out and gently squeezed Paul's shoulder. “Relax. You'll do fine.”

Paul raised his brows in a way that said he wasn't sure he believed Walter. “The last time I was here—”

“I know. It was a bad day, a terrible day. But this is a new beginning.” He headed for the door. “I'll introduce you around. We've got a lot of new doctors and nurses.”

The introductions were easy enough, except for a doctor called Craig Alden. His mood seemed intense as he gazed out from beneath heavy dark brows. When he shook Paul's hand, he said a clipped, “Glad to have you.” Then he returned to his scrutiny of a chart he'd been going through.

Walter steered Paul down the corridor and away from Dr. Alden. “Don't worry about him. He's all work and no play.” He rested a hand on Paul's back. “He's a fine doctor, though.”

“That's good to know.”

After rounds, Walter said, “I'll need you in the emergency medicine department today. The waiting room is filled to overflowing with sick people. You're a godsend. Tomorrow, I'll need help with my private practice. I'm spending so many hours here I can't get to my regular patients. Will that work for you?”

“Sure. I've done a lot of emergency work the last several months.”

“Good. I'll see you later, then.”

With a wave, Walter ambled down the corridor and disappeared through a doorway. Paul remained where he was, as if rooted in place. Now what? He imagined his cabin on the homestead, and a longing for the simple, quiet life he had there enveloped him. He and Kate were happy. A craving for her became so intense it hurt. Maybe she'd come for Christmas.

“Doctor! Please! I need a doctor,” someone shouted.

The brittle voice snapped Paul back to the present. He ran down the hallway. When he entered a waiting room, he immediately found the source of the frantic shouting. In the midst of a sea of coughing, sniffling, and fevered patients a man sat in a chair with a bandaged hand clutched to his chest. A thin woman with her hair all askew and grasping her coat at the neckline stood beside him. A pretty young nurse was trying to straighten the man's arm so she could look at his hand.

The woman with the wild hair shrieked, “He just nearly cut off his finger with an axe.” She caught sight of Paul. “Help him!”

As Paul hurried across the room toward her, he noticed a pink lace nightgown sticking out from beneath her coat. He placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. “Everything's going to be fine. We'll take care of him.” He made sure to keep his voice calm. He turned to the suffering man. “Sir, I'd like to have a look at your hand. But we'll need to go into an examination room.”

The gentleman looked up, his hand still clutched to his chest. “Whatever you say, doc.”

Paul helped him to his feet. “Right this way.” He glanced back at the nurse. “Has he been signed in?”

“No. They just got here.”

“Ma'am, can you fill out a little paperwork for us while I have a look at his hand?”

Seeming slightly calmer, she asked, “Where do I go?” She clasped her hands against her abdomen.

“Just down there.” Paul pointed at a desk where a clerk sat, watching the commotion. “She'll have some questions for you, and when you've filled out the paperwork, a nurse will bring you back.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Your husband's going to be fine.”

She let out a wheezy breath and seemed to deflate. “George, will you be all right without me?”

Her husband nodded. “You go ahead, Edith.”

Edith walked toward the clerk. Paul steered George to a treatment room. “Here we are. Now, sir, can you lie down for me?”

The nurse rolled a table with instruments alongside the examination table. “It's nice to see you again, Dr. Anderson.” She smiled. Something about her looked familiar.

Paul stared at her. “Patty?”

“Uh-huh.” Her smile broadened and two dimples appeared, one in each cheek.

“I thought I knew you. You've grown up.”

“I was just out of nursing school when I came to work here.” She tossed blonde hair off her shoulder.

Paul turned to his patient and unwound the bloodied cloth that had been wrapped around his hand.

“I heard you were in Alaska,” Patty said. “What are you doing back here?” Her pale cheeks turned pink. “I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I'm glad you're here, I'm just wondering why. You don't have to tell me, of course. It's none of my business,” she prattled.

Paul finished with the wrappings and dropped them into a bowl Patty held out for him. “My mother was sick so I came down. She passed last week. I'm working here temporarily, just to help out.”

“I'm terribly sorry to hear about your mother.”

“She lived a good long life.”

“You two done getting reacquainted? Or do I need to call another doctor?” George held up his bloodied hand.

“Sorry, sir.” Paul examined the hand. “I'll need something to clean away this dried blood.”

Almost before he could finish speaking, Patty handed him a wash basin with sudsy water, along with a cloth that had been soaking in it.

“Thank you.” He washed away the blood from the fringes of the injury. “I'm sorry. This is going to hurt.”

As he cleaned the nearly severed finger, George sucked air in through clenched teeth and let out a quiet moan.

“Whoever wrapped this did a good job. The bleeding's pretty much stopped.”

“That was my wife, Edith. She did real good, until we got here. She's like that. When you need her, she's steady as a rock, but once the crisis is over, she falls apart.”

Paul smiled. “A lot of people are that way.” With the damaged finger clean, he examined it more thoroughly. George's index finger was sliced clear down into the bone, between the knuckles and the hand. Paul manipulated it to see if it was broken.

George yowled. “What're you trying to do? Rip it the rest of the way off?”

“Just checking to see if it's broken. I'll need an X-ray to make a determination. The cut's deep, and since it was an axe blade that did the damage, we'd better get a thorough look.”

Paul sent George off to get an X-ray done, then moved on to the next patient—a boy with a high fever and cough, like most of the patients waiting . . .

As the day wore on, his confidence grew. Paul eased into the rhythm of hospital life and his role as a doctor. Moving from patient to patient was similar to the kind of doctoring he did in Alaska. He liked it and here he had everything he needed for each procedure, the assistance of a trained nurse, and sterilized equipment.

It was close to two o'clock when there was a break in patients. Paul could scarcely believe the day was nearly over. He was hungry and went to the cafeteria to get a drink to go with his lunch.

Walter was already there, seated at a table. He waved to Paul and said, “The soup's real good today—bean.”

Soup sounded good, so Paul decided he'd eat in the cafeteria and save his packed lunch for the following day. He chose a cheese sandwich and a root beer to go along with his soup. He carried his lunch tray to the table where Walter sat. “Mind if I join you?”

“I'd be offended if you didn't.” Walter leaned back and lit a cigarette. “So, how's the day been for you?”

“Good. But I'm not sure I've ever seen so many sick people. And some of them are really sick. I've had at least four cases of pneumonia so far today.”

“It's a bad bug. And with each week there seem to be more who are sick.” He took a drag off his cigarette. “Patty's working with you?”

“Yes. She's a big help. Knows what she's doing.”

“When I told her you'd be here today, she was thrilled, maybe too much so.” Walter drew his lips into a tight smile. “I don't think she knows you're married.”

“What difference does that make? I barely know her.”

“As I recall, when she was a very young student nurse, she was quite taken with you. And she's never married. She may see you as the latest most eligible doctor in this place.” He took a drag off his cigarette and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “My guess is she sees you as an attractive catch.”

“Nah. I doubt that.”

Walter shrugged. “I'll bet I'm right.” He grinned.

Paul took a bite of his sandwich and the sharp flavor of cheddar swept his mind back to the first meal he'd shared with Kate. It was the night she'd gotten them thrown out of the restaurant in Anchorage over the way a native couple had been treated. Paul smiled. She was really something. With no dinner, she'd made them cheese sandwiches. His heart swelled at the memory.

“So, do you think you might be interested in staying around for a while? I could use someone like you in my practice and even without this epidemic the hospital is shorthanded.”

Paul didn't answer right away. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure what he felt. He'd run away to Alaska to escape. Now the reason no longer existed. He recognized that the guilt and anger wasn't in this place, it was in his heart. No matter where he went, he took it with him. He gazed out the window at the city rolling across the hillsides, reminding him of heavy timbered forests. “I have a homestead in Alaska. I don't think Kate wants to leave. And the people who live in the bush need a doctor.”