Wendy held her breath, waiting for his answer. He’d gone quiet while she’d been telling him about the base. She hadn’t wanted to lie to him, but shouldn’t have said as much as she had. Things weren’t good. The entire island was on pins and needles, waiting for another attack. Everything had changed and the underlying current said that people were expecting the worst rather than the best. She kept trying to remain positive, telling herself that the patients needed to see a smile, not a frown or tears. That was difficult at times, but she refused to let it pull her down. She’d not only written letters for other patients, she’d joined them in prayers, read Bible verses to them, found information about comrades, and completed every other request they asked of her.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all.” She glanced at her watch, somewhat needlessly because she was sure it was time for her to crawl out from under the bed. “I’ll bring paper with me when I come back with your fresh dressings.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and scooted out from beneath the bed. The flock of butterflies that had taken flight in her stomach while lying under his bed were still there, fluttering about. She hadn’t meant to tell him about her family, her life. It wasn’t like her to be so forthcoming, but it had just happened. Like dancing with him. She didn’t regret it, just wondered why she felt so at ease with him. Why she felt differently toward him than so many others. It was confusing because that had never happened before.
“I’ll be back in a little bit,” she said, and left the room.
Gloria was at the workstation, already mixing the dressing solution.
“Dr. Bloomberg will be assisting me with the dressings this round,” Gloria said, while gesturing at the tall dark-haired doctor standing at her side. “You can go have some lunch.”
Attempting to hide the infinite amount of disappointment that was washing over her, Wendy said, “All right. Please let our patient know that I’ll be in to see him later. I promised that I’d write a letter to his family for him.”
“I certainly will,” Gloria replied. She then turned to the doctor. “Wendy is taking excellent care of all her patients, going above and beyond.”
Wendy knew she wasn’t the only one. The hospital was well beyond its full capacity of two hundred and fifty patients, and every single person was doing all they could, as were those at all the other hospitals, ships, and everywhere else. A great spirit of cooperation was felt and emitted by everyone.
“We appreciate your due diligence, Nurse Smith,” Dr. Bloomberg said.
She accepted his praise with a nod, then left the room.
Not hungry yet, she checked on some of her other patients before she began making her way to the dining hall. Halfway there, she heard someone yelling for help. Instantly concerned, she ran, and rounded the corner to the main hallway to see an armed guard carrying a woman in through the door.
“Help! She’s having a baby!” the guard shouted.
“I’m coming!” Wendy grabbed one of the rolling gurneys that lined the hallways in preparation if there was a second attack and pushed it forward, running toward the man.
“The pains...weren’t this bad...when I started walking here,” the woman said between gasps as the man lowered her onto the gurney.
“It’s okay,” Wendy said calmly. “Just lie down. We’ll take care of you. We’ll take care of everything.”
“She collapsed outside,” the guard said. “While walking toward the building.”
“Thank you,” Wendy said to him. “Thank you very much for helping her.”
“Thank you,” he said, while pivoting on a heel and heading back out the door.
Wendy smiled at how the guard was ready to take down the enemy, but acted as if the pregnant woman scared him to death. “You’ll be fine,” she said to the woman, helping her get settled on the gurney. “What’s your name?”
“Anda Clark,” the woman answered.
“Is this your first baby?”
“Yes. My husband is Lieutenant Willis Clark with the Fourteenth Navy District, assigned to the maintenance yard.” She gasped, then let out a groan and grasped her stomach with both hands.
“It’s all right, Anda,” Wendy said, pushing the gurney down the hallway. “Just breathe. Don’t hold your breath. We’ll get you in a room and everything will be just fine.”
Other nurses had heard the commotion and had also sprung into action. One was at the end of the hall, waving for them to come that way. Wendy knew they’d have to find one of the other rooms that had been turned into makeshift operating stations, because all of the operating rooms were still being used twenty-four hours a day.
“This one is clean and ready,” the nurse said, pointing to what had been a supply closet just days ago.
Recognizing the red-headed nurse as Ilene Graham, another Red Cross nurse, Wendy whispered, “We’ll need a doctor and charge nurse.”
“Helen is fetching one,” Ilene replied.
“Good,” Wendy replied. “This is Anda Clark.” She wheeled the gurney into the room. “It’s her first baby. Let’s get her in a gown and on the bed.”
Charge nurse Moore, who had short black hair and friendly blue eyes, arrived after they had Anda in the bed and Wendy had recorded all of her vitals and contractions on a chart. Upon confirming that it wouldn’t be long before the baby arrived, Nurse Moore quickly explained what items needed to be gathered, instructed Ilene to collect a hospital cradle from the second floor, and told Helen to go get a sedative from the pharmacy.
Between contractions, Anda explained that she hadn’t evacuated with others because she was due within a couple of weeks, and that her husband hadn’t been injured, but he’d been working in the recovery efforts nearly round the clock.
“We’ll get word to him,” Wendy assured her, while wiping perspiration from Anda’s forehead. “Just try to relax best you can.” In an attempt to make that happen, she asked, “Do you have names picked out for the baby?”
“Yes. Kevin for a boy and Pearl if it’s a girl.” Anda’s big brown eyes glimmered as she continued, “Will is a diver and thought Pearl was a fitting name, since we’re stationed here. But I’m not sure if we should still name her that or not.”
“I think it’s a lovely name,” Wendy assured her. “It’s fitting, shows how good things come through thick and thin.”
Anda smiled. “You’re right. It does show that.” Her face scrunched up in pain again.
Wendy held her hand and calmly talked her through the contraction. Once it was over, she gently wiped Anda’s brow and whispered words of praise. She had never participated in a birth, was merely going on instinct, and assumed all was going well each time Nurse Moore nodded at her.
Ilene arrived with the rolling metal bassinet draped with a white sheet and positioned it near the bed, and Nurse Moore whispered something to her that sent Ilene back out of the room.
“My husband,” Anda said. “Will. Can you get word to him?”
“Yes,” Wendy replied, fully understanding that Anda had forgotten she’d already promised that. “Don’t worry about that.”
“He’ll be wondering why I’m not home,” she said. “He’s a diver and underwater welder.”
Wendy’s mind instantly went to Oklahoma. “Is he part of Lieutenant McCallister’s unit?”
“Yes, he is,” Anda replied. “Will and I met in California and K.T., I mean Lieutenant McCallister, approved for me to be able to come here with Will. We heard K.T. was injured, burned while rescuing men from the harbor. Is he here? Will he be all right?”
“Yes, he’s here, and I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear about the baby’s arrival,” Wendy said.
Anda smiled, but sucked in air and grimaced again at the pain.
“Nurse Smith,” Nurse Moore said from her position near the foot of the bed. “This baby isn’t going to wait any longer. We are going to have to do this without a sedative.”
Wendy nodded, even as she was encouraging Anda to breathe. The pharmacy could only dispense medication via a doctor’s order, which explained why Ilene and Helen hadn’t yet returned.
“Okay, then.” Nurse Moore folded the covers back over Anda’s legs. “Mrs. Clark, it’s time to push, I can already see the head.”
“It’s time, Anda,” Wendy repeated near Anda’s ear. “Time to push. Push real hard.”
The next few minutes seemed to last a lifetime as she encouraged Anda to breathe and push, breathe and push, yet also seemed to be over in the blink of an eye when the tiny cry of a new life filled the room.
“It’s a girl,” Nurse Moore announced. “A perfect little girl.”
The well of joy that filled Wendy was indescribable. She’d done little in the overall scheme of things, but felt so blessed to be in the room at this moment. “Congratulations,” she told Anda. “You did it! You have a baby girl!”
“Thank you,” Anda said, gasping for air. “Thank you so much.”
“Nurse Smith,” Nurse Moore said.
Understanding completely, Wendy moved to the foot of the bed and took the baby, so Nurse Moore could see to the afterbirth. In silent wonder, hardly able to believe how absolutely perfect the tiny infant was, Wendy used the basin filled with warm water to clean the baby as she’d been instructed during her training, before she bundled her snuggly in a blanket and carried her over for Anda to see.
“Oh, she is perfect,” Anda said.
Wendy’s heart was filled with thankfulness for the good fortune of having been here. It was something truly amazing, to have witnessed the true miracle of birth. “Absolutely perfect,” she said, and this time, she let a single tear fall, because it was a tear of happiness, not sadness.
K.T. had been disappointed when Nebraska hadn’t returned with Nurse Manning, until he realized it wasn’t just time to change his bandages. Then he’d been glad for the privacy. Dr. Bloomberg had seen to a few other things, including the removal of the catheter.
He was glad to have that over with, and glad to hear that he’d be able to get up to use the latrine, and to sit up to eat, but the rest of the time would be spent on his stomach, for a yet undetermined amount of time. There was also a goodly amount of discussion about his burns, medications, and the IV, before the doctor and nurse left—with the agreement that he wouldn’t have any more morphine as long as he didn’t have a setback.
On his stomach again, K.T. stared at the floor. It was a hell of a position to be in, but he didn’t regret helping those he’d been able to save. Would never regret that.
What he did regret was not being out there with his unit right now, and he regretted thinking too much about Nebraska. Wendy. Nurse Smith. That’s what he had to call her. He shouldn’t be thinking about any woman except Betty and returning home to her.
Why was he having such a hard time bringing her image to mind? He knew she had blue eyes and brown hair.
So did Neb—Nurse Smith. Was that why she’d become the center of his thoughts? Because she reminded him of Betty?
No, she didn’t remind him of Betty. They were very different. Betty was much more reserved. She would never cut a rug like Nebraska. He grimaced and told himself to remember to refer to her as Nurse Smith.
Betty didn’t mind dancing, once in a while. She was happier watching from the sidelines, drinking soda pop and munching on peanuts. She loved peanuts. And chocolate. Years ago, she’d told him that if he wanted to make her happy, all he had to do was give her chocolate. He’d done that as often as money would allow, and she had been happy every single time.
He grinned, remembering more. How Betty could cook. She loved cooking, especially baking, and he loved eating. Everything. He’d eaten over at her parents’ house many times.
Why wasn’t he hungry right now? Starving hungry. It had been days since he’d eaten. Was it because of his injuries? Because he’d been lying in bed so long? He needed to get up, get moving. Get his life back in order. All of it. Not just his mind.
He sensed someone coming near before he heard movement, and then saw a white-clad shoulder before a familiar face appeared beneath him. The thrill that shot through him couldn’t be ignored, and he did his best to tell himself that it didn’t mean anything.
“Brought you some water,” she said, maneuvering the tube between the springs again. “And guess what?”
She looked so animated. So happy. Her dimples were deeper, her lips curled up higher in a smile and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement. He couldn’t help but smile in return. The tube touched his lips, but before taking a sip, he asked, “What?”
“I just helped deliver a baby,” she said, biting her bottom lip, but not so much her smile disappeared. “A perfect, beautiful little girl, and guess what else?”
Women, all women it seemed, were always overjoyed about babies. “What else?”
“You know her, well, you know her parents. Will and Anda Clark!”
It took a split second before what she said clicked in his mind. “Will? Will’s wife had their baby?”
“Yes. Just a short time ago. She gave me permission to tell you, and I sent a message to the barracks to let Mr. Clark know where his wife is when his shift ends. They plan on naming the baby Pearl. They’d planned on that before the attack, then wondered if they should after the attack, but Anda decided that she still wanted to name her that. It’s the perfect name, don’t you think?” She took a breath in and sighed it out. “Pearl. Baby Pearl.”
“Yeah, that’s a good name. Are she and the baby, okay? Everything good with them?” he asked. Willis was an excellent welder and when it had come time to transfer to Hawaii, he’d been worried about leaving Anda in California. K.T. had requested that anyone in his unit be allowed to bring their families and they had all been grateful when the request had been granted. He would do whatever he could for his men, but would never consider moving his family around the world. If something were to happen to him, then they’d be stuck finding their way back home alone.
“Yes, they are both fine,” Nebraska said. “They’ll be in the hospital for a few days.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “A baby was exactly what we needed here. A new life to show us that despite all the hardships and uncertainty, life goes on, and there are still things to celebrate. Wonderful things.”
There was a lot of truth in her statement, and he needed to remember that. Remember her words, especially when his own thoughts became too focused on the bad not the good. “Please give her my congratulations next time you see her,” he said.
“I will, and I brought some stationary so I can write that letter for you.”
“Letters,” he said, trying to pull up the wonderful things about his life. Especially, Betty. Though he hadn’t promised to marry her before he left, he had promised to come home if he could and wouldn’t go back on that. “I’ll need you to write two letters.”
“That’s fine. I can write as many as you need.” Looking at him with a tiny frown between her brows, she continued, “We can do it later if you’re tired and want to rest.”
“No, I’d like to write them now.”
“Okay. Do you want more water first?”
The tube was still next to his lips, and he took a small sip. “That’s enough for now.”
“Okay.” She pulled the tube through the bed springs. “Just give me a minute to put this away and I’ll be ready to write.”
“Thanks,” he said, as she disappeared from sight. He let out a long sigh and forced himself to think about what he wanted the letters to say. They’d be short. Just telling everyone that he was fine. There was no use worrying them with details. He didn’t even know details, so couldn’t tell them much, anyway.
The scrape of chair legs and the rustling of paper sounded as she settled beside the bed near his head.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said. “Should we start with the envelope? That’s what I always do.”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
“Will this one be to your parents?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Kent E. McCallister,” she said. “What is the address?”
He told her, and waited until she said she was ready again.
“Dear family,” he said. Usually, he addressed letters just to his mother, but he knew she read them aloud to everyone. “I just want to let you know that I’m fine.” He questioned what more to say. His letters were usually two or three pages long, telling them about things he was doing, but this one just needed to cover the basics. “A nurse is writing this letter for me, because I’m in the hospital with some burns. They aren’t bad, so don’t worry. I’ll be out soon and will write more then. Love, K.T.”
“That’s all?” she asked.
“Yes.”
There was more paper shuffling sounds. “Okay,” she said. “The next one? Who should I address the envelope to?”
“Betty Nelson,” he said, and told her the address. Then said, “Just write the same thing for that letter.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” It was disconcerting that he was feeling so detached. This was his family. The people he loved. That was as out of character for him as it had been for him to ask about his bare bum and tell her the things about his family earlier.
“Okay.”
“Thanks,” he said, and agreed when she told him to get some rest before it was time to change his bandages again. Then, knowing what was bothering him, he said, “Betty and I have dated for years.”
There, he’d said it and was glad, except that during the moment that followed, he thought Nebraska might have already left his bedside. Until he heard paper rustling again.
“I’m sure she misses you,” she said, sounding as cheerful as ever, “and will be very glad to get your letter.”
“I...uh... I don’t want her to worry.” That was true, but he’d also just wanted to say it out loud, that he had a steady girl, and he wasn’t even sure why.
“Would you like me to add a note from me, telling her that you are healing well and we are expecting a full recovery?”
“Sure,” he answered, figuring he had to agree. “She’ll appreciate that.” That was the truth. Betty was a lot like his mother.
“Would you like me to add that note to your other letter, too?”
“My mother would appreciate that, too.” This was ridiculous. He didn’t have anything to feel guilty about. Not when it came to Betty or to Nebraska. They had merely danced together, and now she was his nurse. One of his nurses.
“Is Betty who taught you to dance?” she asked.
“No, that was my mother. She loves to dance and every Saturday night, she’d turn the music up on the radio and everyone in the house, young and old, would dance in the living room.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It was, and they are probably still doing that. At least I hope they are. I hope nothing back there has changed.” He didn’t want anything to change.
The warmth of her hand as it touched the back of his seeped up his arm.
“But they have changed, Oklahoma. You aren’t there, and I’m sure they are all missing you as much as you are missing them. It’s hard being away from loved ones, but they know you are doing what you need to do, and therefore, they are doing what they need to do, too. Someday, which will eventually arrive, you’ll be back there with them.”
She was so uniquely different from others. At times, it was as if she had a wisdom that was beyond her years, yet at other times, she seemed as innocent and carefree as someone half her age. Then again, she was here, too, away from her family. “I guess we have that in common, too. Being away from loved ones.”
“I guess so, and we are both in Hawaii.”
“And in the hospital, except you work here and I’m a patient.”
Her giggle was soft. “Do you know how to cook?”
“No,” he answered.
“Sew?”
A chuckle bubbled in his throat at her unusual questions. “No.”
“Then we have two more things in common.”
The pressure of the chuckle increased and he let it out. “You don’t say?”
“Oh, I say. So did my aunt. I’m afraid I was a disappointment to her when it came to cooking and sewing, however, I am very proficient at making fishing flies out of bird feathers. Uncle Sy taught me how to do that in the back room of the store when times were slow.”
“Did you go fishing with him? Use those flies?”
“Yes, I did. Do you fish?”
“Yes. The Beaver River isn’t far from our house and that’s what we did on Sundays. It’s my father’s favorite habit.”
“When you’re feeling better, we’ll go fishing,” she said. “Sea fishing. Wouldn’t that be a gas? My Uncle Sy would like to hear about that, and to see a picture of it. He bought me a camera before I left Nebraska. I’ll take a picture of the fish you catch for you to send to your dad. I bet he’d like that.”
“He would,” K.T. admitted, even though he should say that he couldn’t go fishing with her.
“Okay, then, we’ll do that once you’re better,” she said. “Right now, you need to get some rest. I’ll be back later to check on you.”
Guilt rose up in him again. “Sorry for keeping you from your other patients.”
Wendy gave the back of his hand a final pat before removing her hand. She did have other patients to see to, but was more worried about him getting some rest. He didn’t sound like himself, and she could understand that. He was worried about his family and his unit, and there wasn’t much she could do about that for him. “You didn’t,” she said.
Over the next few hours, while seeing to other patients, and taking the time to check in on Anda and Pearl, Wendy told herself over and over again that she was happy that K.T. had a steady girl back home. That meant that they could just be friends. Her and K.T.
That’s all they were, anyway.
Well, not really. They weren’t really even friends. They’d danced one night and now she was his nurse.
Nothing more than that.
She’d never wanted anything more than that. Truth was, that had been part of the reason that she’d spent her spare time learning to make fishing flies with Uncle Sy rather than in the house with Aunt Ella. She’d never wanted to be someone that a man would want to marry. She’d never wanted a man to trick her into falling in love, either. That’s what had happened to her mother. Her father had tricked her into falling in love with him, made her give up all her own dreams, then after she’d become pregnant, he’d left.
Abandoned her. Them. She would never let someone do that to her. Abandon her. Leave her on her own. That’s why becoming a Red Cross nurse’s aide had been the perfect choice for her. She was fulfilling the promise to her mother, and the ones she’d made to herself. To never let any man have control over her life in any way.
The few times she’d asked her mother about her father, she’d simply say she didn’t want to talk about him, about that time of her life, other than she was glad that she’d given birth to the most amazing daughter ever. Her mother never made her feel unloved or unwanted. Perhaps because she knew what that felt like.
Wendy had asked Aunt Ella about it one time, and had been told that her mother’s heart had been broken, and no one wanted to talk about that. Wendy had figured there was nothing that could be done about it. Except for her to not ever follow in her mother’s footsteps.
Aunt Ella and Uncle Sy had never made them feel unwelcome. Just the opposite was true, but her mother had never been truly happy there. That much Wendy clearly remembered.
She, on the other hand, had been happy. Aunt Ella and Uncle Sy had made her a part of their family, even before her mother had died. Her cousins, though older than her, had always treated her like a younger sister, and she adored all of Sid, Joe, and Ellen’s children. All of them, her aunt, uncle, and cousins, had encouraged her choice of joining the Red Cross, and had assured her that she would always have a home to come back to with each and every one of them.
She loved them all, and appreciated knowing she’d always have her family, but would never want to have to live with any of them the way her mother had.
As she made her way back around to the workstation to mix up the solution for K.T., a keen sense of anticipation filled her. She wanted to know more about Betty. About the kind of woman that he had fallen in love with. Of course, that was none of her business, but she was curious. He was such a nice man. A good man, committed and honest, just a genuine good person.
At times, it was like he was two men in her mind. When she thought of him as a patient, he was K.T., a dedicated sailor, but when she crawled beneath the bed and saw his face, he was Oklahoma, a fun, happy guy. Her Fred Astaire.
Gloria was already at the station. “Congratulations on your first baby delivery! I heard you did an excellent job. I’m certainly not surprised. You are unflappable and most certainly excel at your job.”
“Thank you,” Wendy replied. “It truly was miraculous.”
Gloria nodded, and her smile appeared to grow as she asked, “Want to know what else is almost nearly miraculous?”
“Yes. What?”
“Dr. Bloomberg declared that Lieutenant McCallister’s burns are responding so well, that he’s agreed to try the treatment on other patients.”
“Oh, Gloria!” Wendy couldn’t control her excitement and hugged Gloria. “That is so wonderful!”
“Yes, it is.” Returning her hug, Gloria whispered, “Thank you, Wendy. Thank you so much for helping me. I know we still have a long way to go, but I truly believe that this treatment can help so many more.”
“So do I,” Wendy said as they parted. “And I will help you with any other patients that you need me to.”
“Thank you. I’ve already mentioned that to Dr. Bloomberg and he assured me that your dedication has not gone unnoticed.” Gloria gestured to the table. “Let’s get this mixed up. We’ll help our patient sit up and eat some soup before putting on the new dressings. Then I’ll go get some sleep and relieve you at midnight.”