Bridget (The Bridget Series) (7 page)

There she was, Savannah Katherine swinging down the street doing her gorilla mating dance. Bridget felt her stomach churn as Savannah Katherine headed towards the doctor’s office.

After she gently held out her hand to be shook, Savannah Katherine suddenly jerked her hand back. The blonde with the parasol announced, “My name is Savannah Katherine Chadwick. I am named after both of my grandmothers. I come from an old line, fine family. I am always to be properly addressed by both names, so as not to offend either grandmother. I would have offered to shake your hand, but then I realized you are merely an employee. A lady would never offer her hand to an employee. As an office employee, you may call me Miss Chadwick.”

“How may I help you,” asked Bridget wishing she could help Miss Chadwick move to a different city.

“I just came by to remind Dr. Sullivan of the box social this Saturday. The money we raise from auctioning off the picnic baskets is going to help our fire department buy some new buckets.”

“The bidders aren’t suppose to know who brought the baskets, but tell him that mine will have yellow ribbons on it,” she giggled. “You will remember to tell him that, won’t you? That is you’re job, isn’t it, to deliver messages?”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Thank you. And, I want you to know I feel so sorry for you and all the girls who have to engage in employment. I know it’s unseemly for a woman to work, but you do such a good job.” Savannah Katherine swung out the door. Bridget slammed her appointment book on the desk and then got mad at herself for letting Miss Savannah Katherine Chadwick get to her.

“You looked flushed, dear. Are you alright?” Mrs. Schmidt unexpectedly arrived at the office bringing her husband a box that had just arrived by stagecoach.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, just sometimes things get to me.”

“Things? Or, a person?” Mrs. Schmidt had a knowing smile as she waved good-bye and headed towards home.

Dr. Sullivan came striding into the office with a happy grin. “It’s a girl. Beautiful and healthy. With three boys, Geneve and Floyd Legstrom are excited to have a daughter.”

“Did you deliver the baby?” Bridget was surprised, since doctors seldom delivered babies. Usually it was a relative of the soon-to-be mother or one of the local mid-wives.

“Sure did. My first one since coming to town. She is destined to one day break every boy’s heart in town.”

“I thought the midwife was going over.”

“She was busy bringing one into the world over at Sageville, so I went over. You seem surprised that I could deliver a baby.” He leaned over her desk and teased, “Haven’t you heard, I am a doctor.” Bridget felt her face turn a bright shade of red.

“And, I am saddened to have to ask why you have not noticed that I cut the back of my hand,” said Dr. Sullivan deliberately making a downcast expression.

“Oh, let me get you some iodine,” said Bridget as she quickly got up and went over to the cabinet. “How did that happen?”

“I stubbed my toe leaving their cabin and scratched my hand,” he laughed as Bridget tried to put some iodine on the scrape.

“I’ve already done that,” he said pulling his hand away. “Besides, do you know what heals cuts better than iodine and bandages?”

“What?” Bridget saw that the side of his hand did have a faint red iodine stain.

“An ice cream phosphate.” He noticed the bemused look that crossed her face. “Honest. I’m sure I read that in a medical textbook. So, this is really a doctor’s prescription. You and I should go take our medicine—ice cream phosphates—right now.”

Bridget put the top back on the iodine bottle and returned it to the cabinet. Dr. Sullivan held out his hand. Bridget’s fingers touched his hand and he led her out the door. As they began walking down the street, for a few seconds, their fingers were entwined. Bridget felt the most wonderful feeling surge throughout her body. Then Dr. Sullivan properly offered his arm. She wrapped her arm around his. As they headed towards the Ice Crème Parlour, instead of walking, Bridge felt as though she was floating.

D
R. Sullivan—David—as he insisted she
call him, led her to an ice cream table and held her chair as she sat down. “Do you like chocolate ice cream phosphates?” Bridget didn’t want him to know that she had never had an ice cream phosphate.

“Yes, very much.”

“Good, then that is what we shall have.” He went up to the counter and ordered two chocolate ice cream phosphates. Bridget couldn’t believe she was going to have an entire ice cream phosphate all to herself. She remembered that when she came to Canyonville to be tested her Pa had given her a penny for ice cream. In this very place she had enjoyed a small dish. An ice cream phosphate was more than twice the price, three cents. Dr. Sullivan—David—made Bridget feel special.

Mr. Myers who owned the Ice Crème Parlour was also the local druggist. The full name of the store was Ice Crème Parlour and Drug Shoppe. Mr. Myer’s wife had given it the fancy sounding name. The front half of his store, facing the front windows, was the Ice Crème Parlour with the ice cream counter at the side. The back section was the Drug Shoppe with his prescriptives counter along the back wall.

Mr. Myers had the drug store section first. The townsfolk would come in and procure a potable to cure or aid some malady. Mr. Myers made the elixirs himself, as did all of druggists in other towns. His concoctions of various drugs were flavored and effervesced to make them palatable. The most popular were the tonics which contained cocaine and caffeine as well as bromides and various plant extracts.

Women reported that the elixirs made with cocaine and caffeine were effective in curing headaches.

The problem was that the headaches would almost immediately reoccur and the patient would be back frequently for another drink to get rid of the pain.

Bridget was glad that she never experienced headaches and was sorry for the women who were constantly complaining of needing an elixir. Some of the women didn’t seem to be able to get through the day without their magic tonic.

Mr. and Mrs. Myers were going to open up a separate Ice Crème Shoppe but they couldn’t be in two stores at the same time, so they combined the two.

Mr. Myers delivered the phosphates to their table. A mound of chocolate ice cream bounced through the foam. “You two enjoy these. It’s nice to see you in here again, Miss Bridget.”

“Oh, so you’ve been in here before,” was Dr. Sullivan’s sly remark. “Do you have a beau?” Bridget giggled and told David about her father treating her to an ice cream when she came to be tested.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for your graduation. Were your parents able to attend?”

“My mother was able to come. She took the train. It was the first time she had ever been on a train, so it was a big experience for her. She also got to see where I’m living.”

“How do you like living with Dr. and Mrs. Schmidt?” Dr. Sullivan put a spoonful of his ice cream phosphate into his mouth.

“It’s wonderful. I could not have wished for anything better. Mrs. Schmidt is so kind and helpful. She’s like a mother.” Bridget thought for a moment and added, “Mrs. Schmidt would be a wonderful mother. She never mentions having any children, though.”

“They had two boys who both died from pneumonia. One was six and the other eight. Died within a month of each other. They never discuss it.”

Bridget felt sad for their loss. The Schmidts would have been loving parents. She knew they must think about their boys, the same way she would think about her dead parents.

“I’m currently staying in a spare bedroom Sheriff Jasper and his wife have in their home. It will do until I can find a place of my own.” He swallowed another spoonful of his ‘medicine’. “We are both so busy that we have never really had a chance to talk. Are your parents farmers?”

“Yes, they are. They work very hard. My mother makes the best apple pie and biscuits. Also, other things, but everyone talks about her apple pie and biscuits. My Pa does the work of three grown men, but he had a bad leg, so I don’t know how he manages it all.”

“How did that happen—his leg?”

“Farming accident,” answered Bridget who was fearful that the conversation was getting too personal. She didn’t want Dr. Sullivan—David—to know she was really from the Orphan Train. Hoping to divert the subject away from herself she tried to shift the conversation. “Dr. Sullivan said you went to school in Boston. What does your father do?”

“I am a third generation doctor. Both my father and grandfather are doctors in Boston. My mother helped start a Relief Society, which helps the less fortunate receive food and medical care. I have a younger sister who has her eye on a nice chap who has just become a lawyer. I think they’ll probably wed next summer. Boston born and raised. Irish and proud of it,” he said sticking his chest out a little. “Come on, you’re going to let your ice cream melt. Eat up,” said Dr. Sullivan as he pointed towards her glass.

“Bridget took a big bite of both ice cream and phosphate. She swallowed and wrinkled up her nose. “It’s delicious, but it tickles.”

A bemused expression crossed Dr. Sullivan’s face as he realized that Bridget had never before had an ice cream phosphate. He turned his gaze from his glass towards her. “They have other flavors. We’ll have to try them all.”

Bridget blushed knowing that Dr. Sullivan—David—knew she had been lying. Quickly she asked, “Were your grandfather and father upset when you left Boston to come here?”

“No, they are proud of that. They know there is a real need out here. In fact, they ordered a buggy for me, which ought to arrive any day. I’ll need the buggy to make house calls.”

Bridget was enjoying the company of Dr. Sullivan—David—and her tasty treat when she spotted Sally Ronjak walking past the Ice Crème Parlour. Her dark curls clung to the sides of her face as her bonnet acted like a frame to showcase Sally’s alabaster complexion. Sally stopped in front of the window and then stepped into the doorway. “Oh, good afternoon, Dr. Sullivan. You are coming to the box social on Saturday, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be there,” he replied. “See you there.” Then he scooped up more ice cream and phosphate. “You’re going, aren’t you, Bridget?”

“Oh, yes. I’ll be going with Dr. and Mrs. Schmidt.” She played with her spoon in the frothy delight. “It’s for such a good cause, the fire department. They need more buckets. And, oh, Miss Chadwich came into the office looking for you.”

“She wanted me to know that her basket would have yellow ribbons,” interrupted Dr. Sullivan. Bridget looked surprised that he already knew the details. As if reading her mind he explained, “I have gotten that message from at least six people. I’m half expecting to pick up the Canyonville Gazette and see an ad.”

Bridget smiled and enjoyed the rest of her chocolate ice cream phosphate.

B
RIDGET hadn’t intended to go
to the box social. She had saved enough for the train. She looked forward to going home to visit her mother, and her Pa.

Now, she was writing her mother a letter saying that she had to work and wouldn’t be able to come home. It was a lie and Bridget felt guilty in just writing down the words. She promised her mother that she would come the following month. Bridget knew it would take her that long to again save the train fare.

She closed the envelope, addressed it, and still felt a sense of shame as she took the letter to the post office. Her mother should have the letter in four days. She hoped her mother wouldn’t have already started to bake for her homecoming.

A part of Bridget felt terrible, but another part of her knew that she couldn’t leave, not while Miss Chadwick, Sally and Elisa had their eyes set on Dr. Sullivan.

Mrs. Schmidt was surprised when Bridget told her that she had postponed her trip and would be attending the box social. “My mother will understand. It’s for such an important cause. The fire department.” Mrs. Schmidt’s look indicated that she only half way believed Bridget, possibly because Bridget knew her motive had nothing to do with new water buckets for the fire department.

“You’ll have to fix a box,” suggested Mrs. Schmidt. “Would you like me to help you? We can get up early Saturday morning and you can bake your mother’s biscuits.”

“Oh, could we! I’d be so grateful!” Then Bridget hesitantly added, “I also know how to roast vegetables with herbs.”

“We will have a busy morning!” smiled Mrs. Schmidt. “I have some boxes upstairs. You need to pick one to decorate. You need to at least put ribbon on it.”

For a second Bridget envisioned every girl wrapping their box in yellow ribbon. That would really irritate Miss Chadwick.

Saturday morning was
busy. Bridget was concentrating on cooking and almost forgot that she needed to wrap her box. Quickly she looked at the sewing basket that Mrs. Schmidt offered and selected four strips of multi-colored checked cloth. She wrapped two strips on each side and tied them in the middle.

With her picnic blanket draped over her arm, Bridget picked up her box and started walking to the church when she ran into Miss Opal from her school days. She hadn’t seen her since graduation. Opal’s box had a red ribbon and bow. Bridget was glad to see Opal, who was equally as glad to see Bridget.