"Aren’t you going to take your flowers home?” Sally asked at the end of the day, just as Alma was preparing to leave the sanatorium.
The suggestion caught her off guard. Honestly, she did want to bring the bouquet of sweet-smelling pink yarrow and columbine home, but something was holding her back.
“Oh, I don’t know. They’ll probably be better appreciated here than at home,” she replied, pulling her shawl around her shoulders.
“But they’re your flowers! They don’t belong to anyone here. They’re from your sweetheart, and he picked them especially for you. If someone gave me flowers, I’d be parading them around town to make sure everyone knows I have a man!” Sally clasped her hands together and looked off into the distance, lost in a daydream.
Alma paused before responding, trying to think what made her think it would be better to leave the flowers at the sanatorium. The thought of parading around town with them, as Sally was suggesting, filled Alma with bashfulness.
Suddenly, it all made sense. She was still so sensitive to all the teasing she had endured over her historic closeness with Darryl that the thought of bringing it upon herself now made her want to run for the hills.
Things were different now, however. Reminding everyone that she and Darryl were engaged to be married was exactly what she needed to be doing. There was no sense in running away from the rumors because those rumors were what would sell their engagement. Besides, there was something titillating about not shying away from her so-called feelings for Darryl.
There was no reason to be embarrassed anymore, so if she wanted to take the blooms home, why shouldn’t she?
“You’re right. They’re my flowers, and I ought to enjoy them.” Alma lifted the bouquet from the vase, making sure not to drip water on herself.
Sally sighed, and Alma knew she wouldn’t let her leave without telling her what the matter was. She didn’t want to be late for dinner again, but it was hard to find the will to hurry home, knowing her father’s cold shoulder would be waiting for her.
“What’s wrong, Sally?” Alma asked, more out of obligation than genuine curiosity.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that … I don’t know if I’ll ever find anyone for myself. No one’s ever brought me flowers.”
Despite herself, Alma felt sympathy for the girl. Though she didn’t dream of marriage herself, she knew what it was to despair about one’s future. Sally’s wish, however, was far more easily achievable than Alma’s.
The young nurse was a pretty girl with a bright future who would doubtlessly make a wonderful mother. Yes, she could talk more than most men might appreciate, but the right person would love her vibrant and enthusiastic personality.
“You don’t have to worry about a thing, Sally. I promise you. There are men here who have to send away for wives! There are twice as many unmarried ranchers and farmers here in Bleak Hills than unmarried women, so you ought to have your pick of the litter!
Don’t you dare doubt yourself, but make sure you’re not compromising, either. There are greater things in life than the approval of men. Find someone who you care for, and don’t settle for the first man who comes along,” Alma warned.
She was surprised by how easily the advice flowed out of her, even though she’d never been in love herself and had no business telling others how to find a husband. Still, she felt it emphatically, so she was sure she was speaking the truth on some level.
“You’re so wise, Alma. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re like the older sister I never had!”
Normally, Sally’s overexuberance rubbed Alma the wrong way, but on this particular day, it charmed her.
“You’re sweet, Sally. I’m not sure I’m any wiser than you are, though. Thank you for encouraging me to take these flowers home instead of hiding them as if I ought to be ashamed. I’m engaged to be married! The news has been broken, and I can finally stop pretending that I’m not.”
“Honestly, I’m shocked you could keep this secret for so long! Promise me you’ll tell me everything from now on. I want to hear all the details! I’ve wanted to plan a wedding since I was a little girl.”
Alma laughed nervously, knowing that Sally wasn’t even aware of half the secrets she was keeping.
“Of course I’ll tell you everything. A wedding is still quite far away. We have to save up money and so forth, but when the time comes, you’ll be the first person I consult. I know hardly anything about what goes into a wedding.”
“Does this mean that everything you said about wanting to be a doctor was just a lie to cover up your true intentions: to start a family with Darryl Oakley?” Sally asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.
“Oh,” Alma started to reply, unsure how to answer. In the end, she decided that sticking to one version of her story was the best way forward. “Yes, I suppose it was. I always wanted to be a doctor; that wasn’t a lie, but falling in love with Darryl has … changed my priorities somewhat. What can I say? Love has changed me.”
Sally squealed with joy and a pang of familiar guilt rang through Alma. Nervous that she was going to further endear herself to the girl under false pretenses, Alma decided it was time to escape. She made her excuses, namely that she needed to get to dinner on time, and Sally immediately understood. She’d spent enough time with Mr. Mott to know he was a stubborn man who needed softening to win over.
Alma was very much aware of all the stares she was getting as she walked home, flowers in hand. Clearly, word had spread fast. Alma was sure that Vivian had something to do with that, and she was grateful for her friend’s quick work. The more people Vivian informed about the secret engagement, the fewer people Alma would have to tell herself.
Surprisingly, the attention and knowing smiles thrown in her direction were not entirely unwanted. There was almost something exciting about throwing off the burden of shame. Now that she was older, she could see there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Love was not something that needed to be hidden, even though hers wasn’t quite real, and needing the help of Darryl to reach her goal of becoming a doctor did not make her weak.
Dinner passed in relative silence. Mrs. Mott was just as subdued as usual, and Alma’s father spoke only of work affairs, even though discussing business at the dinner table was normally something he thought ill of. Nobody once mentioned Darryl or Sheriff Rivers, and Alma started to breathe a little easier.
Maybe the whole affair and her father's promise to the sheriff would simply blow over. Perhaps it would never be mentioned again. It was too much to hope that her father would understand that she didn’t want to get married, but that was a bridge to cross in the future. In the meantime, she was thankful for a bit of peace and quiet. She needed some calm to focus on her efforts to become a doctor.
As she said her prayers before bed that night, Alma’s nose was filled with the smell of Darryl’s flowers. She knew that scent could have healing powers, but she was surprised by how easily her breath was coming and going, thanks to the gift.
“Thank you, oh Lord, for watching over me and guiding me through this complicated time. I hope you can forgive me for the dishonesty that’s been required of me. I trust that you know my heart and that it is not in my nature to be deceitful. I have a greater purpose, and the confidence you have graced me with will see me through this difficult moment.
Please bless my mother and father. I know they only want the best for me, even if they don’t know what that is. More than anything, bless Darryl Oakley for going along on this adventure with me. He has nothing to gain from helping me, and I hope to find some way of repaying the debt of his service. Oh Lord, thank you for your abundant love and for forgiving my sins. Amen.”
Before she blew out the candle and climbed into bed, Alma looked down at her hands. Running her fingers against each other, she wondered what it would be like to intertwine them with someone else’s. The pull of love had never meant much to her, but she suddenly felt curious about what it might feel like. What would an engagement ring feel like around her finger?
“Stop being silly, Alma,” she said to herself before abruptly blowing out the candle. There was too much on the line. There was no time to dilly-dally on matters of the heart when she had a greater calling. She wanted to help heal people, not worry about making a man happy.
Why was it, then, that there was some fluttering in her stomach at the prospect of even a manufactured engagement? She couldn’t deny that seeing Darryl unexpectedly at the sanatorium had made her feel somewhat … special.
It took quite some time to fall asleep that night as worries about her future collided with the excitement she felt. For the first time in her life, she was on the verge of going after what she truly wanted, but there was still fear in her heart. As her eyelids finally relaxed and a fitful sleep took over, visions of an exaggerated past filled her head.
“The pirates are coming! Swim to safety if you can!” Darryl shouted, lowering his voice to sound scary.
Alma blinked, noticing for the first time that Darryl had finally grown taller than her. There he was, staring down at her as they stood in the middle of the stream, his arm outstretched with a stick in hand, en guarde like a sword.
“Unless you want to get captured?” he asked quietly, a funny grin stretched across his face.
Alma blinked again, remembering the game. “No! Never! I will never surrender to the evil pirates!”
With that, she pretended to dive off the imaginary sailing vessel, find the deepest part of the stream, and swim to the shore for safety. Her dress was entirely soaked, not to mention her hair, but none of that mattered. Water would dry, but she’d never recover from getting caught by the pirates!
Once she reached the bank, she climbed out of the water, half screaming and half laughing as Darryl chased her, his sword waving about wildly.
“You can’t run forever! Join the pirates and help us uncover buried treasure! Live your life by the mercy of the waves and never look back!” he shouted.
As Alma ran, she caught sight of a few other schoolgirls looking down at them from the bridge, pointing and laughing. Distracted, she tripped on an uncovered root and went tumbling to the ground.
A second later, she was in Darryl’s arms. It didn’t make any sense. She’d been falling, and he was still yards behind her, yet she wasn’t making it up. There he was, looking down at her with concern in his eyes.
“Darryl loves Alma! Alma loves Darryl!” the schoolgirls called out in a sing-song voice from the bridge.
Alma felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. She pushed herself away from Darryl and found herself back on her own two feet. She wanted to tell him she was fine and didn’t need to be saved by him, but when she looked around again, he wasn’t there. She was on her own, in front of her own house somehow.
The sun was gone. The night was setting in, and Alma knew in the pit of her stomach that she would be in trouble. For what? She had no idea. Seconds later, her father’s shouting made it all clear.
“It’s unbecoming of a young lady from a refined family such as yourself. You’re soaking! Dripping onto the floors. What were you thinking? Running around with that boy? What will people think of you?”
Alma looked down, realizing she was inside somehow and standing in front of a parental tribunal in the parlor, water dripping down her face as if she’d only just gotten out of the river.
“He’s a sweet boy, and I’m sure you’ll get married someday, but you’re too young, my dear,” her mother warned, taking a softer tone.
“I’m not going to marry Darryl! I’m not in love with him!” she shouted back, defensiveness bursting out of her.
“Good. He’s just a boy. Nice or not, you’ll never become a proper lady if you keep running around with him. Do you like being the talk of the town? It’s shameful. You have to make something of yourself, girl, or all you’ll ever be is a child rolling around in the mud. Is that what you want? Is that what you want? Is that what you want?”
The words echoed around her head, getting louder and louder. She clapped her hands over her ears and shouted for her father to stop until she was in a ball on the ground, his voice still louder than any of her thoughts.
Alma woke with a start, shouting into the darkness of her room. Her voice scared her, and she hugged herself until she remembered where she was. It had just been a dream, nothing more.
Arms around her knees, she rocked back and forth in silence, hoping that her outburst hadn’t woken anyone else in the household. Everything seemed quiet except her head, which was filled with visions of her nightmare. It had almost felt like a memory instead of a dream; only it was more like seven different memories all merged into one.
Orders from her father to make something of herself and to be more ladylike had been one of the main reasons she’d distanced herself from Darryl. That, and the constant patronizing teasing from everyone else. One day, she’d just decided to stop it and focus on becoming the kind of woman her father would respect.
From then on, she pored over the textbooks in his study and started going to the sanatorium after school to learn more from him. He said she reminded him of a young version of himself, and she’d almost melted with joy. A different dream was suddenly born. Marriage and a family would only be obstacles to her true passion and calling.
Being reminded of the hopefulness of her youth brought up deep insecurities that Alma had thought she’d left in the past. A sob worked its way up from the pit of her stomach until she wept into her knees, trying her best to avoid making too much noise.
As much as she’d tried to become the daughter she thought her father wanted her to be, it had all been for nothing. Little had she known that the expectations would suddenly change as soon as she was of marriageable age. Now, pursuing a career in medicine was an embarrassment to the entire family, just as much as her coming home drenched from playing in the stream had been.
It was too late. He had made her in his image, for better or worse, and she wanted to live up to his legacy. Evidently, she’d inherited his stubbornness as well, another trait he would doubtlessly think was unladylike.
Eventually, Alma’s breathing returned to normal, and she could lie down again. In the dark, she could see the silhouette of the flowers standing on her bedside table, and she took some comfort in the sight of them. Her mind went to Darryl, remembering when she and Vivian first proposed the plan to her.
He’d thought they were asking him to marry her. He’d been fine with the idea of her working as a doctor after marriage. It was something that hadn’t really occurred to her before that night. She smiled a little, thinking to herself that she’d accidentally stumbled upon the best man to marry in all of Bleak Hills. It was almost a pity that she had no intention of going through with the wedding.
She turned around in bed to face the other direction. The sooner she got out of Bleak Hills, the better. The sooner she freed Darryl from this absurd scheme, the sooner he could find a woman who was really deserving of his affection.
If there was anyone that had the right to real love, it was Darryl Oakley.