They Called Her Mrs. Doc. (19 page)

She heaved a sigh of relief. Perhaps it had been worth it after all. It certainly was nice to be able to move around without bumping one’s shins on small beds.

Cassandra sat with her friend Virginia in the shade of the back porch as they sipped cool lemonade from tall glasses. Nearby their offspring played together. They were “even” again with the birth of Virginia’s third son, but the two youngest, Christina and James Samuel, slept beside their mothers. They were still much too young to be interested in the sandbox.

“It’s a good thing that Christina joined Vivie,” Virginia mused, “or she would be terribly outnumbered.”

Cassandra nodded, then added truthfully, “She doesn’t seem to mind. She plays with the wagons and little animals about as much as she does with dolls.”

“Yes, but she is different.”

“Tougher,” agreed Cassandra, and they both laughed.

They sat in silence for a time enjoying the antics of their playing children. Then Virginia drew Cassandra’s attention with a quiet question. “Do you still miss Montreal?” she asked.

Cassandra had to think about her answer. She put down her empty glass and looked first at her friend and then at her children.

“Yes—I miss it,” she finally answered honestly. “I would love to go back. To show off my children. To enjoy some of the—the finer things. To get away from the wind and the dust. To teach my children about the—the other side of—of living.”

As she spoke her voice became more and more nostalgic. She did miss Montreal. She missed her mother. And there were many days when, much to her surprise, she realized she also greatly missed her father. And she often wondered about her now-grown little brothers. They were men. Two of them had married and she had missed both weddings.

Abigail, on the other hand, seemed like some dream creature from a distant past. There were days when Cassandra almost wondered if Abigail had really existed. But of course she knew she did. She still wrote occasionally. She and her new husband seemed to move around a lot. Cassandra was never sure from where the letters might be postmarked next. It was hard to keep up with Abigail.

Yes, she did miss Montreal. She would love to go back. But much to her surprise she realized that even now she no longer struggled with a need to go back—only a desire.

“I—I guess I have adjusted—somewhat,” she admitted to Virginia.

“You’ve grown,” corrected Virginia. “I’ve watched it happen. You are not the young woman I first met.”

Cassandra looked up in surprise, adding thoughtfully, “I guess one can’t be a mother and still act like a child,” she commented.

“Some women do,” countered Virginia. “I’ve met them. I have at times wondered who would do the rearing. The mother—or the child.”

Cassandra smiled. That was a bit of an exaggeration, she was sure, but she understood Virginia’s point.

But Virginia changed the conversation back to her original topic. “I have never been East,” she stated. “I’ve always thought it would be fun to go.”

“Oh, you should. You’d love it. There are plays and concerts and so—so many things to do. And you can shop—until you drop,” she added with a laugh, remembering how she and Abigail used to use the phrase.

“Do you think you and I could handle six babies?” asked Virginia.

Cassandra’s eyebrows went up. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, Morris said last night that I should get you to take me East. Get it out of my system. He said he was sure Samuel would let you go for a few weeks—to show off your babies and all. I could get a hotel room nearby, and we could spend our days in parks and maybe even find a nanny to stay with the children while we did some shopping or took in a concert or—”

But Cassandra had grabbed her hand. “Are you serious?” she asked.

“Yes. Perfectly. I don’t think it sounds so impossible—do you?”

“Impossible? Of course it’s impossible. The two of us with six babies? It’s sheer foolishness—Oh, let’s do it. Let’s!”

And from then on they could think or talk about nothing else.

Chapter Sixteen

The Adventure

There was no rest for anyone until the plans were made, the cases packed, and Cassandra and Virginia, with their six small charges, were boarded on the Canadian Pacific Railroad train in Calgary, headed east for Montreal. Samuel and Morris waved them off, smiles firmly in place.

Joseph and Anthony seemed totally taken with the new venture and spent the first few hours at the window pointing out things of interest to each other. Vivian and Paul got in the game as well.

“Yook! Yook!” Paul would shout excitedly, but because his finger flew from one direction to another, no one could understand exactly what was to claim their attention.

The swaying of the train and the clacking of the wheels seemed to lull the two babies to sleep. Cassandra and Virginia looked at each other.

“This might not be so bad,” said Cassandra with a smile. “We get to just sit back and relax.”

But that wasn’t to last for long. Vivian and Paul soon tired of the game and wished to run in the aisles instead. They were not pleased when their mothers insisted that they had to stay in their own small compartment.

Then Joseph and Anthony became restless and at about the same time the two babies awakened. The party was over—and they were barely on their way.

The long days and nights on the train proceeded in much the same fashion. The children had their good times when something took their attention off their cramped quarters, and Cassandra and Virginia would breathe a collective sigh of relief. But just as quickly the tables could turn and the youngsters would become bored and restless and ready to run.

“When are we gonna get there?” was asked over and over, and Cassandra or Virginia would try to be patient as they explained that it was some distance yet.

They took turns going to the dining car. The short trips were the biggest events of the day. The children loved the walk down the long train aisle. They loved to see some new surroundings. And they loved to sit at the table and have their mama entertain them by folding the napkins into strange shapes while they waited for their food to arrive.

While Cassandra ate and fed Joseph and Vivian, Virginia remained behind with her three and the sleeping Christina. Cassandra never left while Christina was still awake. And when Virginia took her two oldest to the dining car, Cassandra took her turn watching little James.

In theory the plan worked just fine, but they soon discovered that there were snags. Sometimes the babies both awakened while one mother was gone, and then the mama left behind truly had her hands full.

But for the most part, the trip went rather well, though both mothers could hardly wait for Montreal and a full night’s sleep.

They were met at the train station by Cassandra’s parents. It was a joyful, tearful time and Virginia pulled back, feeling a bit awkward at intruding on the reunion of family.

But her discomfort did not last long. “This is Virginia,” Cassandra said, drawing her forward. “And this is Anthony, Paul and James.” Virginia and her family were greeted warmly.

“If you will just direct me,” she informed the Winstons, “I am sure I will be able to find transportation to my hotel.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Mrs. Winston. “We have room for you all at the house and I wouldn’t hear of you going elsewhere.”

“But—,” began Virginia.

“Now, no buts,” said Mrs. Winston. “We want to get to know Cassandra’s best friend.”

“But it isn’t fair to have outsiders cutting in on your family time,” insisted Virginia.

Cassandra reached out and took her hand. “Oh, Virginia,” she said with a little laugh, “you are no outsider.”

“Besides,” continued Mrs. Winston, “the children will need playmates while they are here. They would be bored to tears with just us old folks.”

Virginia did not argue further but allowed them to tuck her and her family into the second carriage that pulled up to convey them to the Winston home.

On the drive through the busy streets of Montreal, Joseph and Vivian were almost beside themselves at the exciting things to see.

“Look at that! Look at that!” they kept shouting so that Cassandra could scarcely carry on a conversation with her parents. “Look, G’wamma,” Vivian insisted, fitting right in to the new relationship.

Oh, dear,
Cassandra thought with disappointment.
Mama will think that they have no manners at all.

But Mrs. Winston almost seemed to delight in the many interruptions. She smiled at the excitement and explained things to the children. Even Henry P. joined heartily in the fun, exclaiming with satisfaction at the sturdiness of the boy, the rosy cheeks of his sister, and the strong grip of baby Christina. Cassandra smiled. Her papa always saw things through the eyes of a physician.

Mrs. Winston had been thorough in her arrangements. Not only did she have a nanny booked for the occasion but a nurse as well. Cassandra found herself with more freedom than she had enjoyed for years.

And her papa was generous with opera tickets and transportation and even his credit accounts. Cassandra felt delightfully pampered and spoiled.

There was only one thing wrong. She missed Samuel. She ached for Samuel. She thought of him in the morning with the first opening of her eyes. She thought of him every time she sat down to a meal of sumptuous fare. She thought of him when she attended the theater or the concert hall and wondered if he was being worked off his feet, if he was making it to Mrs. Clement’s for the arranged lunches and suppers, knowing that he would not be eating properly if he was needing to fix his own meals at odd hours. Heavy thoughts kept her from enjoying her time as she might have if Samuel had been with her.

For all the enjoyment of familiar things and events, somehow they had changed.

The music didn’t charm her as it always had in the past. The newer, more contemporary pieces did not soothe her spirits as the familiar classical pieces had. They sounded harsh and brassy. At times she wished to leave before a concert had even ended.

The plays did not please her either. At times she cringed at the language. It bordered on the vulgar, and she soon found herself wondering what had happened to theater. She often felt as if she owed Virginia an apology as they made their way back to the carriage after a performance.

They did go shopping, and at first Cassandra buried herself in the long tables and racks of fresh-smelling silks and satins. Even the cottons and linens drew her. But the jostling of the customers in the crowded aisles and the sharpness of the sales personnel soon had her nerves on edge. She would turn to Virginia and say, “Let’s get some fresh air,” and they would head for the doorway, sometimes without even making a purchase.

The sidewalks, however, were no better. There were always crowds of hurrying people there as well. The two women were jostled and bumped and hurried and harried until they were both glad to flee to the comfort of the carriage. Since it was a whole new experience for Virginia, she didn’t notice anything different or any changes. Cassandra tried to explain it to her in the carriage on the way back to the house. “Or maybe most of the changes are in me,” she concluded as they drew up to the front door.

But oh, it was good to see her folks. Cassandra was dreadfully grateful for the opportunity to introduce her children to the wonderful set of parents who had raised her. She was happy to be able to show her parents her beautiful children.

She was proud of her firstborn, Joseph, with his thatch of unruly red hair. The color was hers. The way it flopped forward was from his father. And the hazel eyes that alertly studied the world were from Samuel as well.

Then Vivian. Strong and sturdy and solid as a little boy should be—yet Vivian was every inch a girl. Her soft little arms could wrap around your neck and your heart at the same instant. She teased with big green eyes and pouted with protruding lip as the moods took her. But she was a delightful child, full of love and compassion and tenderness even at an early age.

And baby Christina. Though only an infant, she was already showing a personality all her own. She was a contented child, playing and cooing for hours at a time. But though she did not have her mama’s red hair, she did have a temper. When Christina decided that it was time for something to be done, she wanted immediate action.