Sophie's Dilemma (22 page)
‘‘Thank you.’’
Sophie picked up her letter and nearly kissed the envelope. Grace had finally written again. She hurried up the stairs and poured the water into her washbowl. Mrs. Soderstrum had even come up and made her bed. No wonder Hamre always kept a room here. They had the nicest landlady around.
As soon as she washed and slipped into clean clothes, she sat on the bed and ripped open the envelope. One sheet. She swallowed her disappointment and read.
Dear Sophie,
I hope you are well. School is fine. Astrid and I, well, all of us had a good time at the fall party.
Ellie’s baby is so tiny and sweet.
We all miss you.
Your sister,
Grace
Sophie ignored the tear meandering down her face. Grace had not forgiven her.
The next morning Sophie ate a little bread as soon as she awoke and lay back down. Within a few minutes she got up and felt almost like she used to. Breakfast tasted good. The sun was lighting the east. Surely this would be a wonderful day. She inhaled and smiled at the crisp air. The frost that rimmed the pine and fir needles and whitened the rooftops lent a sparkle to the day and a skip to her steps.
Oh,
Hamre, I hope you are having a glorious day and the fish are jumping right
into your dory
.
She donned her apron and, after checking the edge on her knife, wielded a couple of swipes on the whetstone before heading for the line.
‘‘Miss Merry Sunshine you are,’’ Alice greeted her.
‘‘I know. How can I resist? The sun is shining. I was beginning to think it would never return.’’
‘‘There is no lovelier place than Seattle when the sun shines.’’
‘‘Quiet! There’ll be no more jabbering.’’
The women rolled their eyes and, as the fish line started up, went to work. As if they couldn’t talk and gut fish at the same time. Perhaps men couldn’t, but they could. If only they could convince the Grouch, as they’d all come to call him in secret.
The sickness caught Sophie by surprise after the break, and before she could ask to be excused to go to the necessary, her world went black again.
‘‘Easy now. You cracked your head on the way down.’’ Alice held a folded apron against Sophie’s forehead.
‘‘I didn’t faint again?’’
‘‘I’m afraid so. Can you stand so we can go to the other room and put a bandage on it?’’
‘‘In a moment.’’
The superintendent was right behind her. ‘‘Bjorklund, stop by the paymaster on your way out. You’re fired.’’
‘‘But I—’’ From the look on his face, she knew he meant it.
‘‘
H
E FIRED ME BECAUSE I fainted again.’’ Sophie’s jaw ached from clenching it so hard.
‘‘Oh, my poor dear.’’ Mrs. Soderstrum gathered her close, patting her back and checking the bandage on her forehead. ‘‘You hit your head. That’s where all the blood is from.’’ She turned Sophie’s chin to look for more blood. ‘‘You’re not hurt anywhere else?’’
‘‘N-no. I wanted the money to help pay off Hamre’s boat, and the man fired me, just like that.’’
‘‘I know. I know.’’ Mrs. Soderstrum set her charge down on a chair and took off her coat and scarf. ‘‘Let me fix a cup of tea, and that will make both of us feel better. Can you get your boots off?’’
‘‘Y-yes.’’ Sophie bent over and started to unlace her boots, then groaned. ‘‘Oh, my head.’’
‘‘Keep your head down and relax.’’ She laid a hand on Sophie’s back. ‘‘Perhaps this is for the best. That was not a good job for a young woman who is carrying a baby. Not clean enough and smelly. No, I’m sure this is for the best. There will be another job. I know it might not pay as well, but you know that God will always light a way.’’ Talking all the while, she bustled around, setting out cookies and fixing the teapot for when the water boiled.
Sophie kept her eyes closed as she slowly straightened again. She couldn’t even take her boots off. She ignored the throbbing in her head. At least she could tell the difference between pain and wooziness.
‘‘Just leave the boots, and let’s get something hot in you. That will help more than anything.’’
‘‘Did you get sick like this?’’
‘‘Somewhat. But my sister was puking for months. She swore she’d never have more children.’’
‘‘Did she?’’
‘‘Nine and was sick with every other one.’’ Mrs. Soderstrum knelt to remove Sophie’s boots.
‘‘You’re teasing me.’’
‘‘No, I tell the truth on a stack of Bibles. My older sister had nary a trouble. Sometimes we hated her for it. Well, not really. But then two of her little ones died of the diphtheria. Babies have a hard time of it in the winters—all the dampness, you know.’’
Sophie stared down at the part in Mrs. Soderstrum’s hair. Babies did die. What if her baby died? Mor had buried two children, and Ingeborg’s baby was born too soon to even bury. She laid a hand over her belly. Not Hamre’s baby. And it would be born while Hamre was at home from the Alaskan fishing waters.
I wish I could see the look on
his face when he reads my letter. I promise you, Hamre, I’ll be different
when you come home. I will be a good mother and a good wife. You wait
and see
. She wrapped both arms around her middle, fighting weariness so intense she let her head fall forward.
Sunlight woke her the next morning. ‘‘Oh, I’m late.’’ She threw back the covers before remembering the defeat of the day before and then sank back down on the bed. She had no job to go to. After using the necessary she climbed back in bed, sat a moment, and slid back out again. So far so good; no morning sickness. After dressing, she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen.
‘‘Well, you are looking so much better, dear. A good sleep is one of the best restoratives. Breakfast is in the warming oven. You sit down and I’ll bring it.’’
‘‘No bacon or sausage.’’
‘‘No. Oatmeal and toast for you. I figured that might be the best. The coffee is hot if you want to start with that.’’
Sophie shook her head. Just the thought of coffee made her grimace. After breakfast and straightening her room, including hanging up her clothes from the day before, she sat down to write a letter to her family, telling them the good news. At least she hoped they’d think it good news. When her eyes refused to stay open any longer, she climbed back in bed and fell into a deep slumber.
‘‘Dear Sophie,’’ Mrs. Soderstrum whispered.
She woke to her landlady shaking her gently. ‘‘What? Is it dinnertime already?’’ She rubbed her eyes and stretched, catching a yawn on the way.
‘‘No. You slept through dinner. But dear, you have a visitor.’’
‘‘Oh, I must look a sight. Who is it?’’ She threw back the covers and sat up with her feet over the edge. Already that too-familiar feeling was overriding her pleasure. ‘‘Oh no. I thought this was supposed to be morning sickness!’’ Instead of fighting it, she leaned over the basin and heaved until she had no more to give up.
Mrs. Soderstrum handed her a damp cloth. ‘‘You lie down again, and I will bring her up here.’’
‘‘I . . .’’ Sophie swallowed and closed her eyes. Surely this too would pass. She heard the two women talking as they mounted the stairs. How rude of her to not go downstairs to meet her visitor, but the lassitude made even sitting up difficult. At least she had combed her hair that morning.
‘‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. Bjorklund, but—’’ ‘‘No, I am sorry not to come down to greet you. My first visitor and here I am lying in bed.’’ She smiled at Mrs. Jorgeson, the captain’s wife, but the smile died at the sight of reddened eyes and nose. Fear wrapped icy fingers around her throat. ‘‘Something is wrong. Tell me.’’
‘‘A boat returned from Alaska. The
Sea Lily
went down in a terrible storm.’’ Her voice broke and she blinked back the tears that brimmed over.
‘‘There were no survivors. I’m so sorry to bring such terrible news.’’
Sophie stared at her. No survivors. Surely not. The
Sea Lily
was a strong boat. Hamre always said Captain Jorgeson was the best captain around. ‘‘It cannot be. Surely there is some mistake.’’
‘‘If only it could be so, but . . .’’
‘‘No. I won’t believe it.’’
Mrs. Jorgeson turned to Mrs. Soderstrum, who took Sophie in her arms and let her cry against her shoulder. ‘‘I’ll let myself out. I have another call to make. I am so sorry for your loss.’’
‘‘Wait. How can you know for sure?’’ Sophie wiped her eyes with her fingertips.
‘‘They would never bring us news like this unless it was true. They would wait.’’ She turned and headed for the door, her shoulders curved as the weight of her burden wore her down.
Sophie cried herself to sleep, woke in the night, and cried again, trying to stifle the sound so she wouldn’t wake the other boarders. The next time she woke, she found Mrs. Soderstrum asleep in the chair by her bed. The rustling of the covers as she got up to use the pot woke the older woman.
‘‘I’m sorry to wake you.’’
‘‘No, I need to go back to my bed. I heard you crying in your sleep.’’
Sophie’s eyes brimmed again. ‘‘I can’t believe he is really gone.’’
‘‘I know. It doesn’t seem possible. But in the fishing trade, these things happen. Must have been a terrible storm.’’
‘‘I never said good-bye.’’ Sophie could hardly speak the words.
‘‘I know, I know. None do.’’
Sophie shook her head, the burden of her sorrow slowing the motion. ‘‘The night before he left—’’ she sniffed and wiped her nose— ‘‘I wanted him to stay home. I thought he wouldn’t leave me. . . .’’ A hiccup caught her. ‘‘I was so mad, I just went to bed and fell asleep before he came to bed. I was hateful and . . .’’ Her voice dropped to a whisper, strangled by sobs. ‘‘Hamre, you can’t leave me. You have to come back.’’
So I can tell you how sorry I am. God, why would you do such
a thing? You didn’t have to let this happen
.
‘‘Shh. Hush. He knew that you loved him. All married people have fights at times, but that doesn’t mean we love any the less.’’
‘‘But he wasn’t fighting. He just looked at me like I was the greatest disappointment of his life. He didn’t want me to come west with him, but I talked him into it. He wanted to wait like my father said.’’ Hope had tucked tail and run, leaving her voice thready. She sank back against the pillow and turned her face away, letting the persistent tears wet her pillow.
When she slept, nightmares of towering waves threatened to swamp her, jerking her awake to cough and choke as if she’d inhaled the seas. She fell asleep again and slept round the clock.
Only in sleep was there surcease from the pain. Often, she woke crying for her mother and Grace.
This time she awoke to Mrs. Soderstrum shaking her shoulder again. ‘‘Come, Sophie, you must get some nourishment in you, or you’ll be sick. You could even lose the babe.’’
Sophie stared around the room, as if searching for something she couldn’t see. ‘‘Hamre?’’
‘‘Ah, poor child, he—’’ ‘‘He’s gone.’’ She covered her eyes with her hands, letting the tears leak between her fingers. ‘‘I-I’m not hungry.’’
‘‘Yes you are. And thirsty. Here, drink this.’’ She handed her a cup. ‘‘It is only warm water. Drink it down.’’
Sophie took a sip and gagged. ‘‘I can’t.’’
‘‘You can or I will call a doctor.’’
‘‘No!’’ She shook her head. ‘‘Just let me be.’’
‘‘Do you want to let that baby die?’’
‘‘No, of course not. I—’’ ‘‘Then drink.’’ Mrs. Soderstrum held the cup to Sophie’s lips. ‘‘And then you will eat this toast, and if that stays down, I will bring up a poached egg. I have a chicken stewing so you can have chicken broth.
You have to have liquid and nourishment to keep your baby growing.’’
Sophie drank a couple of swallows and started to push the cup away, but drank again instead.
‘‘There’s a girl.’’ The older woman took the cup back and set the plate with toast and honey on the bed. ‘‘If you scoot up, I’ll stack the pillows behind you. Will be more comfortable.’’
Sophie did as told, as anything else took far more effort than she could find.
Hamre, oh, Hamre
. She gagged on the first bite of toast but chewed anyway, taking small bites and chewing them to a mush that slid down easily. When she’d finished half a slice, her head fell back against the pillows. ‘‘I can’t eat any more.’’