A White Room (39 page)

I rushed back to the Hughmens’, but when I arrived, I found Ethel weeping at the top of the stairs.

I ran and knelt in front of her. “What is it?”

She motioned to the closed door.

I scrambled to the door expecting to find Larry Hughmen’s mangled corpse, yellow and pink. I clasped the doorknob and heard commotion. Confused, I quickly turned the knob and pushed. I gasped. Nearly every single woman from the church committee was inside, cleaning, cooking, washing clothes. Larry had clean sheets and fresh blankets. He had been bathed, and a woman knelt next to him, cleaning his scratches, while another applied fresh bandages to his bedsores. One woman stirred something in a pot on the stove. Another struggled with Jacob, trying to put a shirt on him but unable to pry his hands from a very real little toy horse.

Francis noticed me standing in the doorway and came over with her hands outstretched. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“I—”

“Mrs. Hughmen”—Francis took Ethel’s hands—“come get something to eat.”

“Thank you.” Ethel wiped away her tears.

Ella glided to me.

“This is a miracle,” I said.

“We have all planned shifts and will help the Hughmens as long as they need us.”

“Really?”

Francis returned. “And there’s more.”

“More?”

“This is an urgent need in Labellum.”

“What is?”

“People like the Hughmens,” Ella said. “After seeing this family and after learning what you do, we decided we want to help you—the committee, that is.”

“But I thought—Mr. Coddington and the physicians—”

“They are arresting people who practice medicine without a license. We can’t perform medicine, but we can still help those who are ill along with their families. We’ll offer aid, cooking, cleaning, education on homecare and hygiene, and whatever else we can. We can do this within the law. Mr. Coddington can’t scare off a committee, not when we know we are within our rights.”

“I—I feel faint.” I staggered, and Ella and Francis grabbed my arms.

“Is she all right?” a male voice asked from the open doorway.

“She’s just a little surprised,” Ella said.

I regained my composure and saw Walter wearing a dark suit and vest. He carried a leather case, and Olivia stood next to him. He immediately spotted Larry and walked to him with his professional gait as the women moved away. Ethel rose and moved with the others. Walter knelt next to Larry, studied his eyes and felt his heartbeat.

Larry whispered something.

“What?” Walter leaned over and listened. His serious expression suddenly changed and his composure gave way to laughter.

We stood silently as Walter inspected Larry. Finally, Walter lifted his head and spotted Ethel. I imagined he knew who she was because of her puffy eyes. He stood and approached her. “My deepest apologies. My father’s diagnosis was accurate.”

Ethel’s eyes glistened.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I will do everything in my power to make sure he is comfortable.”

“You mean pain medicine?”

“Of course.”

She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, and Walter hugged her back.

While Walter gave Larry morphine and examined Ethel and Jacob, Ella landed on Olivia like a hawk and told her about the plans they had for the committee and how she and Walter could help.

As Walter started to leave, I stopped him. “Thank you so much, thank you,” I said.

“I am happy to do it.”

“But your father?”

“I’m not my father, but I’d appreciate it if this is kept quiet.”

“Of course, of course.” I feared saying more in case he suspected me, but I hoped the committee was enough of a disguise. Any of the members could have been Mrs. Freeman now. “You have done so much, but could I possibly ask one last thing?”

“Go on.”

I moved in close to him so no one would hear. “Your father said the only cause of this condition is drinking. The accusation is so shameful for Mrs. Hughmen and her family. She’s about to lose her employment. I know it is a horrible thing to ask, but could you possibly—lie to her?”

He pulled back. “No need to lie.”

“Pardon?”

“Drinking isn’t the only cause of liver disease.” Walter didn’t whisper.

“What?” Ethel cried out, clenching her skirts.

Walter straightened and spoke to her directly. “And drinking oneself to cirrhosis isn’t an easy task to hide from a wife and child. If you never saw your husband drink, I highly doubt that was the cause.”

Ethel staggered to him, grabbed his hands and put them to her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He took her hands in his. “Contact me if you need anything else, anything at all.”

“Thank you, doctor. Thank you.”

He and Olivia left together as they had arrived, and no one said a word about it.

I stayed for a while to help and sit with Larry. Eventually, everyone quieted down and Ethel and Jacob fell asleep next to him. He was awake, though, and on his thin lips was the slightest of smiles.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“Ha. I’m dying.”

“If I could—”

“I don’t mind.” He gazed at his sleeping wife and child, Jacob clutching his tiny horse. “I don’t want to leave them, but at least I know they’ll be taken care of.”

I held back my tears and refused to think of my father. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“I know.”

“The committee is amazing.”

He motioned for me to lean in closer. “I hear you told that old docta what’s what. That’s what I call amazin’.”

I chuckled, slightly embarrassed.

“Finally, you laugh.”

I gave in and giggled.

“Thank you for what you’ve done for my family. These women may have made the difference, but you told them how to get here.”

My eyes watered.

“Don’t get moist over me.” He moved his eyes to Ethel. “I’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.”

Thirty-Seven

October 1901

I
cried all the way home. I was happy, sad, grateful, mournful, relieved, and in misery over everything Larry and my father had experienced and everything they wouldn’t. Toward the end of my journey, however, my tears gave way to rejoicing as I thought of what the committee was going to do for the town. By the time I arrived home, I was giddy. Then I saw Lottie sitting on my front steps. I hopped off the surrey and ran to her.

She jolted, thrown by my glee.

“Lottie, you will not believe what happened. I asked Francis and Ella to help Ethel. They got the entire church committee over there cleaning and cooking.” I was practically jumping, my hands flailing. “And Olivia Urswick!”

Lottie’s eyes widened.

“She got Walter over there. He gave Larry medicines and told everyone that drinking didn’t cause the disease.”

“How?”

“Well, they’re kind of—you know—courting?”

Lottie looked flabbergasted.

My exhilaration vanished as I remembered our argument. “Uh. I’m sorry. I’m just so happy.”

She waved her hand.

“I apologize for the other night.”

She shook her head. “It was me.”

“But you never came back.”

Lottie shifted her weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “I’m in trouble.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m with child.”

“What?”

She crossed her arms and turned her back to me. “I can’t have another. I shouldn’t a had the last one.”

“I—I’m…” I reached for her hand.

She pulled back and then looked up at the sky. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to God. “I have no money for food. I can’t pay for ’em, I can’t watch ’em. I don’t have enough love. My body don’t have a thing left.” After having so many, Lottie had every reason to fear she wouldn’t survive another. She spun around and grabbed my arms. “Emeline, I need you to get rid of it.”

“What?” I pulled away.

“Get rid of it.”

“No.”

She covered her trembling lips.

“I won’t do that. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You heard everything at that dinner. You know what could happen.”

“Women do it all the time.”

“I don’t even know how to.”

“Please.”

“Lottie, women die when physicians do that. Think of Annie.”

“She turned out fine. I know women who survive doin’ it themselves.”

“Then do it yourself.”

“Believe me, I tried. I tried hot drinks, hot baths, violent exercise.” She slapped her hands to her sides. “I jumped off a chair. I tried to roll down stairs, but nothin’. I know women have done it with an instrument, but I can’t. I—I’m too—”

“Lottie, please. Don’t ask this of me.”

“Emeline.” She grabbed my arms again. “I know they say it ain’t right by God, but some say if it’s before it starts moving, before it’s alive…” She breathed hard, pushing the air out of her lungs forcefully. “I know it ain’t right by law, but if I don’t get rid of it, even if I live through it again, I ain’t ganna be able to care for it or the rest of my babies. How is that right by anythin’?” She released me.

I thought of what Daniel had said about a life at stake. My father had said I would know whether it would or wouldn’t be a sin, but I didn’t know.

She put her hands together in praying fashion. Her face scrunched and her eyebrows dipped. “Please do this. Please. For my babies. For me. If you won’t help me, I’ll find someone who will. I’ll risk it.” She fell to her knees. “Please. Please, Emeline.” She folded over and sobbed into her hands.

I clasped my hands over my mouth. She was my dearest friend. Ever since I found her in the woods, I wanted to help her, rescue her. She had helped me so much. I owed her so much. I took a deep breath. Could I really stand by and watch her go through a pregnancy that would surely kill her? Could I really say no when she might go to some hack who would do who knows what to her? It was a horrible, terrible thing, but doing nothing would be worse. I took a deep breath, and picked Lottie up off the ground.

I didn’t say much at dinner that night. I was too nervous to fake conversation. What I was about to do was far worse than what I had been doing. It would ruin John if anyone found out I was providing medical care to the poor, but performing an abortion? I didn’t even know if I could.

After dinner, James and Carmine retired to the parlor, and John asked me to join him in the library. I hoped he didn’t notice that anything was out of place. I had spent the afternoon researching medical texts and his court records and testimonies, learning everything I could—how people had done it, the risks, what would happen afterward, everything.

John sat behind his gothic desk, and I sat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.

“What did you do today?”

I feigned confusion.

“Did you see Margaret Bradbridge?”

My heart jumped and my stomach tightened. “I made a few calls.”

“Did you apologize?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

I was afraid to look at him, but I did. “I apologized.”

“Dr. Bradbridge received an impromptu visit from his wife today.”

My heart felt like a panicked critter trying to escape.

“Did you ask her to steal medicine from him?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“Well, did you?”

“Um—I—”

“Why?”

I fiddled with my wedding ring.

“Was it for you?”

“No. No! It was for a man.”

“What?” He shot out of his chair.

I stood. “No. I mean,” I stuttered, “the church committee was helping a man. He was in severe pain, so Ella sent the committee to do whatever they could to help.”

“What?”

“He’s suffering.”

“He should be seen by a physician.”

“Dr. Bradbridge refused!”

“What?”

“He saw Dr. Bradbridge and he refused to treat him.”

“Are you talking about that man? The man you argued about? The very subject you were to apologize for?”

“Well—I—”

“You agreed you’d apologize for your behavior, but instead you tried to make Margaret steal from her husband—my client? What possessed you to think—”

“You don’t understand.”