“Oh.” Kate only now seemed to remember the bundles. She thrust the larger one at Giuliana. “Here. I brought you some ice.”
Cold penetrated the damp cloth and seeped into Giuliana
’s fingers. She pushed back a corner of the cloth and stared down at the block of ice.
“For your ankle,” Kate added.
“Where did you get this?” It wasn’t as if ice just lay around San Francisco’s streets, even in winter.
“Don’t worry; it’s not from our ice box. I bought it from an ice cream vendor.”
Kate had come all the way from Nob Hill and had even spent money on ice for her? Why would she do that? Only one reason came to mind. “No need to feel guilty. I forgive you already.”
“You mean for using you to get into the hospital?” Kate asked.
“Yes.”
“You do? Forgive me, I mean.” Kate searched her face.
Giuliana nodded.
“Thank you. But I didn’t do it out of guilt. The doctor said to cool your ankle, and you don’t have an ice box, so…”
Maybe Turi had been wrong. Not all wealthy women were selfish. Kate might be a little spoiled and out of touch with the reality of how the poorer people lived their lives, but her heart was in the right place.
Giuliana plopped down onto the bed, unwrapped the bandages, and rested her ankle on the cloth-covered block of ice. The cold felt good on her overheated skin.
Kate dragged over a chair and sat next to her, as she had done yesterday. “I also brought you something to eat from one of the sandwich wagons.” She handed Giuliana the smaller bundle, wrapped in an old newspaper. “I thought with you not able to get down the stairs, you might be hungry by now.”
For a moment, Giuliana thought she might cry. She hadn
’t expected this from Kate.
“Is something wrong?” Kate asked with a frown. “Don’t you like sandwiches? I brought two different ones, since I wasn’t sure what you like.”
“Oh, no. I love sandwiches.” Quickly, Giuliana unwrapped the old newspaper, reached for the first sandwich, and took a big bite. Moist chicken seemed to melt on her tongue. She hastily swallowed before saying, “This is very good. Grazii. Thank you. Please take from my wages what I owe for them.”
Kate waved her away. “That’s all right.”
“No,” Giuliana said. “I want to pay. I will not eat if I do not pay.” She had never taken anything from anyone without paying for it in some way, and she didn’t want to accept charity from Kate, of all people.
“They just cost a few cents. It’s nothing to me.”
“It is something to me,” Giuliana said seriously.
Kate bit her lip.
“I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me. I didn’t mean to insult you and imply…” She sighed. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, but if it will make you feel better, you can pay me back after your next payday.”
“Thank you.” With renewed gusto, Giuliana took another bite of the chicken sandwich.
When she was done with the first sandwich, she pulled the pickle from the other one and crunched it happily before wrapping the sandwich and putting it away for later.
Kate leaned over and peeked at Giuliana’s foot. “Is the ice helping? How does the ankle look?”
Giuliana pulled her skirt and petticoat up a bit, just enough to reveal her ankle but not her calves. Compared to Kate’s, they probably looked like the legs of an elephant, especially the left one. The swelling had gone down a little, and to her relief, the skin around her ankle wasn’t bruised. “It looks good. I will go to work tomorrow.”
“That’s not why I came here either,” Kate murmured and then bit her lip as if she’d said too much.
“Why did you come?”
Kate sighed. Her shoulders slumped back against the chair.
“I don’t know. I guess…” She peeked over at Giuliana. “I guess I needed to talk. I feel like I’m going to explode if I can’t tell someone. I was driving around, trying to clear my head, but that didn’t help a lick. So when I found myself South of Market, I thought I might as well bring you some ice and something to eat.”
“What happened?” Giuliana asked a third time.
This time, Kate didn’t try to tell her it was nothing. “When I left here last night, I set out to find the cable car that had run down the woman in the hospital. It took a while, but I finally found it and managed to take two photographs of it. I developed them first thing this morning, and they looked as good as any I’ve ever seen in a newspaper.”
“Oh, Kate, that is wonderful! Scusa…Miss Kate. Now you get the job with the newspaper, yes?”
Kate grimaced. “That’s what I thought—until I saw today’s newspaper. Some other photographer was way ahead of me. They printed a photograph of the cable car at the site of the accident. I bet their photographer knew all about the accident the minute it happened and didn’t have to spend hours searching for the darn cable car. He’s probably got an army of informants, but no one would think to tell a woman about horrible things such as a pedestrian being killed.”
The cold from the ice seemed to wander up Giuliana’s body. “The woman…she died?”
Lips pressed together, Kate nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, she did. I know, I know. Someone died, and here I am, whining about not getting the job at the
Call
.
I feel really bad about it, but…it’s all I ever wanted.”
“I understand,” Giuliana said. “I know how it feels. I too had my hopes broken.”
Kate leaned toward her, her posture and the expression on her face practically telegraphing her curiosity.
“What did you do when that happened?”
Giuliana sorted the folds of her skirt over her now-bare ankle. A sigh escaped her. “Nothing I could do.”
“May I ask…? I know it might be too personal, but…”
With Kate’s hopeful gaze resting on her, Giuliana found she couldn’t refuse to answer. She owed Kate for bringing her to the hospital, even if Kate’s reasons had been partially selfish. “When my brother and I came here five years before, we did not want to stay so long. Only one year, we said. Until the situation at home gets better.”
“What situation?” Kate asked. “What was going on?”
“How much do you know of Sicily?”
“Nothing,” Kate said with a shy smile conveying her embarrassment. “Well, I do know that it’s an island, right?”
Giuliana nodded. “Yes. Our village is in the north, right on the ocean. The men in my family—my father, my grandfather, all before him—were piscaturi…fishermen. But then people had no more money to buy fishes from Papà and Turi. My brother and I came to Merica so we can earn money and send it home to our family.”
“That’s very courageous. Coming to a strange country…a new continent, where you don’t know a soul…” Admiration shone in Kate’s eyes.
For a moment, Giuliana allowed herself to bask in that glow, but she’d inherited her grandmother’s trait to look a situation square in the eyes and call things as they were, not as she wanted them to be. She shook her head. “Not courageous. It is very desperate. We could not let our siblings die of hunger.” For a moment, she remembered their big-eyed faces and the way they had looked at her when she’d said good-bye, their thin little arms clinging to her. By now, they weren’t so little anymore. Sometimes, she wondered whether she’d still recognize them. Would they recognize her?
“I still think it’s courageous,” Kate said. “So, what happened after your first year here was over?”
“The situation at home was not better. Mamma sent a letter.”
“So she can read and write?” Kate asked.
Giuliana shook her head. “A man in our village writes what she says.”
“Ah. So, what did the letter say?”
“Mama wanted that we stay another year. Only until Christmas. Turi and I counted the days. But Christmas came and went, then one more and one more…” Giuliana lifted her hands and let them drop back to the bed. “Still no letter from Mamma telling us to come home. Always the children need things. New shoes, medicine for a bad cough…”
The room went quiet. Even the baby next door had stopped crying.
“I’m very sorry,” Kate said quietly.
Giuliana nodded in acknowledgment. She trailed her finger over her skirt, painting an invisible pattern, and then noticed that there was a bit of dirt beneath her fingernail. Quickly, she hid her hand behind her leg.
After a while, Kate cleared her throat. “Now that your brother…now that he’s no longer here with you, you’re staying and trying to earn enough to feed your family, all on your own?”
The weight on Giuliana’s shoulders seemed to increase. “What else I do, no? My family needs help.”
Kate didn’t seem to have an answer, but the admiration in her gaze warmed Giuliana, right down to her cold ankle resting on the block of ice.
“Are you still counting the days?” Kate asked after a while.
Was she? Giuliana had to think about it for a moment. “No,” she said and realized for the first time that she’d stopped holding her breath whenever the landlady told her a letter from Sicily had arrived. Had she given up hope? Or was she now hoping for something new…for that letter to never come so she could make a life here in Merica, where women had more options?
She honestly couldn’t tell, and that made her feel adrift, like a fishing boat that had lost sight of shore. With a sigh, she looked over at Kate. “See? I am not a good person to give advice to you. I know you do not want to give up and do nothing, like me.”
“It’s not what you’re doing either. You’re hanging in there, making the best of a difficult situation.” Kate sat up straight, no longer slouching against the back of the chair. “And that’s exactly what I’ll do too. Just because I don’t have any contacts in City Hall doesn’t mean I’ll give up. I’ll just have to work a little harder than the other newspaper photographers.”
“I could fall down the chair for you so you can bring me to the hospital again,” Giuliana said with a grin.
Kate laughed, and her gloomy mood seemed to retreat. “I think I’d better look for another way to get into City Hall.”
“You do know one person there,” Giuliana said.
Kate looked into her eyes as if she would find the answer there. Her brow wrinkled and then smoothed out. “Dr. Sharpe!” She jumped up and started to pace the tiny room—two steps to the door, two steps back. “Do you think she would be willing to help me? Maybe telephone me whenever something interesting was going on? I could pay her a small sum. Not as a bribe, of course, just as a compensation for her help.”
Giuliana opened her mouth to answer, but Kate was already at the door, this time reaching for the doorknob.
“I’ll go ask her right away.”
“Is Sunday,” Giuliana said. “She maybe not work today.”
“People get sick on Sundays too, don’t they? Someone has to be there to treat them.” The door fell closed behind Kate before Giuliana could answer.
She lay there, stared at the chipped wood, and listened to the retreating steps on the stairs.
Halfway down to the fourth floor, the footfalls paused and then headed back. “Thank you,” Kate called through the door.
Giuliana shook her head but then had to grin. “Very welcome,” she called back. When Kate’s footsteps faded away, she went to discard the melting ice.
* * *
As Kate stopped the automobile across from the hospital
’s back entrance, she tried to come up with a plausible-sounding reason for why she wanted to talk to Dr. Sharpe. But it turned out she didn’t need it.
When she approached the broad door where ambulances were delivering patients, Dr. Sharpe was sitting on a bench that had been set up next to the entrance. Blood stained her starched white apron, and her hands were red and raw, as if she had scrubbed them with a stiff-bristled brush.
Had she lost a patient? Maybe this wasn’t the best moment to approach her. Kate’s steps faltered.
But Dr. Sharpe had already spied her and waved her over.
With a lump in her throat, Kate walked up to her.
“Is everything all right with Miss Russo?” the doctor asked.
“Pardon me?”
“Your employee, Miss Russo. Her ankle isn’t in worse shape, is it?” Lines of worry creased the doctor’s forehead, even though she was probably just a few years older than Kate.
Did she remember every single one of her patients and care that much about the well-being of each of them?
“Oh, no, that’s not why I’m here,” Kate said quickly. “She’s fine. Her ankle looked much better today.”
“Good.” Dr. Sharpe leaned back on the bench. She didn’t seem to question why Kate had seen her family’s maid on a Sunday. “So, if it’s not Miss Russo, what brings you here?”
“You.” Heat suffused Kate’s cheeks. Lately, interacting with women seemed to make her even more flustered than usual. “I mean…I came to talk to you. If you have a minute, that is.” She waved toward the hospital.
“The head nurse knows where I am. As long as she’s not rushing out here to get me, I’ve got time. Please, have a seat.” The doctor slid a little to the side on the bench to make room for Kate, who gingerly sat next to her.
“I have a proposition for you,” Kate blurted out and then wanted to slap herself.
So much for subtlety.
Dr. Sharpe raised a brow. “A proposition?” she repeated carefully. “Of what kind?”
“I was wondering…”
Heavens, you sound like an enamored suitor asking for her hand in marriage! Get yourself together!
Kate took a deep breath. “I’m a photographer. Or rather I’d like to be a photographer—a professional newspaper photographer. But the editor of the newspaper I’d like to work for seems to think that’s an impossible endeavor for a woman.”
The doctor let out an unladylike snort. “He should spend some time with my family. My aunt is running a ranch, and my mother was the first woman veterinarian in the West. Not much is impossible for a woman if she sets her mind to it.” The determined glow in her eyes showed that Lucy Sharpe had never let herself be stopped by what other people—men—deemed impossible for a woman.
“Exactly my thought. But I need to prove that to the editor,” Kate said. “That’s where you come in.”
Dr. Sharpe gave her an encouraging nod, indicating for her to go on.
Now or never.
“I need someone on the inside of these walls.” Kate pointed at the building behind them. “Sooner or later everything newsworthy that happens in the city is reported either to the police station or to the hospital. If I could find out about it before the other newspaper photographers do…”