that damned fishing rod
with him wherever he and his father went, but the judge never found time.
Whenever Willie went fishing, he went alone. But now, Hattie would go with him.
He kept his mind firmly fixed upon that
thought and upon the dreams he hoped to someday share with her.
He might not have a lot to offer, but
Willie did possess a keen imagination. He smiled now, thinking of a quiet,
sun-dappled spot along a crystal clear stream. If he closed his eyes, he could
see the scene clearly, could make it so real he could actually inhale the crisp
coolness of the mountain air, could feel the refreshing spray of water, and
could even hear the brook trout jumping and splashing in the blue water.
Clutching the rod, he lumbered down the
stairs again. His mother stood waiting, a cup of tea and a plate of cookies in
hand.
“Stay with me, William, please?”
He nodded and knew what he must do He’d
make it up to Hattie. For all he knew, she might even have forgotten about
their plans to go fishing at the creek. “I’ll stay tonight, Mother.” He set the rod aside, enfolded the woman in
his big arms, and let her weep upon his shoulder. “Give me a little time. I’m
getting my life together, and I’ll find a way to take care of us both.”
And Hattie, too. Willie choked on a rush of emotion surging through him, reluctant to make
promises he wasn’t certain he could keep, and afraid to dream of a future that
might never come.
* * *
*
Hattie
came to the dinner table late that evening hoping her red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t
give her away. Both the doctor and his wife were already seated, enjoying the
cool summer soup the cook had prepared. The aroma of fresh tomatoes and sweet
corn tickled Hattie’s nose, but she didn’t have much appetite.
“Glad
you’ve decided to join us.” Charlotte’s razor-like voice cut straight through
the sultry evening air. “You do know, of course, that your presence at meals is
expected. One might think you ungrateful if you choose not to break bread with
us.”
“I fell
asleep earlier. I meant to take only a short nap. I must have been more tired
than I thought.”
“Are we
working you too hard, Hattie Mae?” Abner looked up from his soup. “Nursing is a
demanding profession. If you’re finding it physically exhausting during your
training, you might wish to rethink the future. The workload is only going to
increase as you learn more and as more folks come to the hospital for care.”
Hattie
knew a lot of the townsfolk still weren’t comfortable with the idea of going to
see a physician in a clinical setting. Doctors were supposed to call on the
sick and frail, not expect them to be transported to some strange office with
foul medicinal smells.
His
wife picked up her napkin and dabbed it to her chin, wiping away traces of
broth and a few crumbs of bread. “I’m not so sure it is a physical problem,
Abner. From what I’m seeing, I suspect it’s more likely a case of emotional
distress. Unless she learns to keep her feelings on a tighter leash, she’ll
buckle under the pressure, and sooner rather than later,” she said, turning to
Hattie as she spoke the last few words. “Or maybe it’s got nothing to do with
nursing at all.” She carefully set her napkin to the side of her bowl. “Could
it be, perhaps, that Miss Hattie is falling in love?”
“Where
would you get an idea like that?” The notion was so preposterous she couldn’t
help but laugh. As she began to relax, her appetite returned. “Would you pass
the soup, please, Mrs. Kellerman? It looks delicious.”
Charlotte
picked up the tureen. “I got the idea from seeing you mope around all day, and
don’t say you haven’t been. It’s a sure sign of love-sickness, and most likely
I can guess who’s caused it.”
“Thank
you.” Grasping the soup ladle tightly, Hattie filled a small serving bowl. She
chose to ignore the remarks. True, she had been moping about a good portion of
the day, but
with him wherever he and his father went, but the judge never found time.
Whenever Willie went fishing, he went alone. But now, Hattie would go with him.
He kept his mind firmly fixed upon that
thought and upon the dreams he hoped to someday share with her.
He might not have a lot to offer, but
Willie did possess a keen imagination. He smiled now, thinking of a quiet,
sun-dappled spot along a crystal clear stream. If he closed his eyes, he could
see the scene clearly, could make it so real he could actually inhale the crisp
coolness of the mountain air, could feel the refreshing spray of water, and
could even hear the brook trout jumping and splashing in the blue water.
Clutching the rod, he lumbered down the
stairs again. His mother stood waiting, a cup of tea and a plate of cookies in
hand.
“Stay with me, William, please?”
He nodded and knew what he must do He’d
make it up to Hattie. For all he knew, she might even have forgotten about
their plans to go fishing at the creek. “I’ll stay tonight, Mother.” He set the rod aside, enfolded the woman in
his big arms, and let her weep upon his shoulder. “Give me a little time. I’m
getting my life together, and I’ll find a way to take care of us both.”
And Hattie, too. Willie choked on a rush of emotion surging through him, reluctant to make
promises he wasn’t certain he could keep, and afraid to dream of a future that
might never come.
* * *
*
Hattie
came to the dinner table late that evening hoping her red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t
give her away. Both the doctor and his wife were already seated, enjoying the
cool summer soup the cook had prepared. The aroma of fresh tomatoes and sweet
corn tickled Hattie’s nose, but she didn’t have much appetite.
“Glad
you’ve decided to join us.” Charlotte’s razor-like voice cut straight through
the sultry evening air. “You do know, of course, that your presence at meals is
expected. One might think you ungrateful if you choose not to break bread with
us.”
“I fell
asleep earlier. I meant to take only a short nap. I must have been more tired
than I thought.”
“Are we
working you too hard, Hattie Mae?” Abner looked up from his soup. “Nursing is a
demanding profession. If you’re finding it physically exhausting during your
training, you might wish to rethink the future. The workload is only going to
increase as you learn more and as more folks come to the hospital for care.”
Hattie
knew a lot of the townsfolk still weren’t comfortable with the idea of going to
see a physician in a clinical setting. Doctors were supposed to call on the
sick and frail, not expect them to be transported to some strange office with
foul medicinal smells.
His
wife picked up her napkin and dabbed it to her chin, wiping away traces of
broth and a few crumbs of bread. “I’m not so sure it is a physical problem,
Abner. From what I’m seeing, I suspect it’s more likely a case of emotional
distress. Unless she learns to keep her feelings on a tighter leash, she’ll
buckle under the pressure, and sooner rather than later,” she said, turning to
Hattie as she spoke the last few words. “Or maybe it’s got nothing to do with
nursing at all.” She carefully set her napkin to the side of her bowl. “Could
it be, perhaps, that Miss Hattie is falling in love?”
“Where
would you get an idea like that?” The notion was so preposterous she couldn’t
help but laugh. As she began to relax, her appetite returned. “Would you pass
the soup, please, Mrs. Kellerman? It looks delicious.”
Charlotte
picked up the tureen. “I got the idea from seeing you mope around all day, and
don’t say you haven’t been. It’s a sure sign of love-sickness, and most likely
I can guess who’s caused it.”
“Thank
you.” Grasping the soup ladle tightly, Hattie filled a small serving bowl. She
chose to ignore the remarks. True, she had been moping about a good portion of
the day, but
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