More Than a Dream (26 page)
‘‘Elizabeth, you are the daughter I never had.’’ Dr. Morganstein leaned forward. ‘‘And beyond that, you are becoming an excellent doctor. A bit hotheaded at times, but all from the goodness of your heart. I am grateful for the privilege of training you, no matter where you decide to practice.’’
Elizabeth brought her wandering mind back to the present. She opened her medical book to the page where she’d stopped and leaned against the wall to read. She knew if she sat down, her chin would be on the print instead of her eyes reading it. She had the second of three tests tomorrow. And one week before her mother came for their Chicago shopping trip. How could the summer have gone so fast, while some days seemed to last a whole week?
Days later, when she finished her final exam and handed it to her mentor, Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief. How often she’d taken her excellent memory for granted, the way she’d memorized music since she was small and up through college. Now it had helped her pass these exams with very little preparation. Not only pass but have excellent scores on the first two. This one, however, might be a different situation, since it was mostly essay.
‘‘Are you worried?’’ Dr. Morganstein indicated the sheaf of papers covered with Elizabeth’s fine script.
‘‘No—yes.’’ She shrugged. ‘‘A lot hangs on this. An entire year of my life.’’
‘‘Ah, my dear, don’t you realize you already have more training and knowledge than most beginning doctors? You have a college education, three months of hospital experience, plus all the training your doctor at home gave you. You could go anywhere in the country and open a practice right now.’’
Elizabeth stared at the woman across the desk. ‘‘But . . .’’
‘‘But you want to be the best, and I want to help you achieve that goal. So you will return in October and begin with the cadaver. You will do more surgeries and see more patients. You will learn more about mixing medications and the latest medical advances I can find for us to implement. And if I have my way, you will teach some of the basic classes such as anatomy and physiology.’’
Elizabeth felt her eyes widen. ‘‘Me? Teach?’’ Her voice squeaked on the last word.
Oh dear, has she lost her mind? Surely
she cannot mean what I just heard
.
‘‘The one who teaches always learns the most. You know that to be true.’’
‘‘B-but I’ve never been a teacher.’’ Elizabeth swallowed hard to get past the lump forming in her chest.
‘‘Not to worry. You won’t be called on for that until after Christmas.’’ Dr. Morganstein stood and came around the desk. ‘‘What time is your mother arriving?’’
‘‘Her train comes in about one o’clock, I think, and she will go to the hotel to freshen up before coming here. That’s tomorrow.’’
‘‘Good. I will send an invitation for her to join us in my apartment for supper. I want to explain our new program personally so she will not worry about you.’’
Elizabeth stood and let out a breath. ‘‘You haven’t read my exam yet. How can you be so sure I will pass?’’
‘‘You would have had to turn in a blank sheet of paper to fail, and when I see how many pages you covered, I know failing is not a possibility.’’ She took Elizabeth’s arm. ‘‘Now, have you read that latest American Medical Association publication? And I have a letter from a doctor friend in Europe. Ah, the things they are discovering. I’ve read there’s a man in Germany by the name of Wilhelm Roentgen who is experimenting with some new kind of photography that may some day allow us to see bones right through skin and flesh. Is that not amazing?’’
The next evening after a delicious supper of fresh vegetables and baked chicken with an orange mustard sauce, Elizabeth fought to keep her eyes open while Dr. Morganstein explained to Annabelle Rogers more about her new medical school and the part she expected Elizabeth to play.
‘‘So you see, your daughter will be the first to graduate from my school, and I will have the honor of bestowing the title of doctor upon her.’’
Annabelle nodded, her smile still a bit stiff but gracious in spite of her lifelong wish that her daughter would marry well and become a concert pianist, not necessarily in that order.
‘‘I appreciate all that you are doing for Elizabeth, but one thing I would like to say. We can pay for our daughter to attend your medical school so that she can choose where she will set up her practice. Our Dr. Gaskin is hoping she will take over his practice in Northfield as soon as she is trained. In fact, he would turn it over to her now and train her himself.’’
‘‘I am aware of his wishes.’’ Dr. Morganstein smiled at Elizabeth. ‘‘And I’m grateful for all the training he has already given her.’’ She turned her attention back to Annabelle. ‘‘We will talk about fees another time when our girl is not so weary. Thank you so much for coming but even more for trusting your only daughter into my care.’’
‘‘You are most welcome, but I really had nothing to do with it. What Elizabeth wants to do, she generally finds a way.’’ Annabelle looked from the doctor to Elizabeth. ‘‘Now, we must be going.’’
‘‘I will call for a hack.’’ Dr. Morganstein rose and moved into her office.
‘‘You look weary beyond measure. Are you feeling all right?’’
‘‘Yes, Mother. A good night’s sleep will do wonders.’’
Especially
if I am not half listening for an emergency call
. Although Elizabeth knew she sometimes slept so hard that Patrick or someone had to shake her to wake up.
And I haven’t dropped anything lately, so perhaps
that problem with my hand has disappeared
.
After they said their good-byes, Elizabeth stood waiting for a moment while the driver assisted her mother into the fringetopped conveyance. Again the hair on the back of her neck felt like it stood at attention, and she glanced around to see if someone was indeed watching her. Open windows in the tenement across the street framed faces of children and adults. Three men lounged on the landing of a fire escape, their voices raised in what surely sounded like liquor laughter. Children down the street shouted for Bobby to run hard after he hit the ball with the stick. A baby cried; a mother called her children. But no one seemed to be paying her any attention. She climbed in after her mother and settled into the seat, waving good-bye to the doctor, who waved from the top step at the front door of the Alfred Morganstein Hospital, the red brick darkening in the coming gloom.
Less than two months and she would be back. Unless she wanted to come earlier, as Dr. Morganstein had said with the lifted eyebrow of hope and a wishful smile.
Elizabeth turned and looked over her shoulder through the back window of the carriage. A tall brawny man stood on the edge of the sidewalk, appearing to be studying their conveyance. But the light had dimmed, so she was unsure. Could that have been who she’d thought to be watching her?
She slept until noon the next day, showered, then shopped with her mother until the stores closed. In Elizabeth’s mind, working the wards all afternoon was less tiring, but she dutifully tried on shoes and frocks and gloves and a new wool coat in a becoming shade of burgundy. At all times she kept a smile in place and made appreciative comments.
The next day passed much the same, finished off by an evening at the symphony, through which she slept for the last half and woke to find her head on her mother’s shoulder.
‘‘You could have begged off, you know.’’ Annabelle tucked her arm in the crook of her daughter’s.
‘‘I know, but I wanted to hear the music too. There is not much music at the hospital, that’s for sure.’’
Not unless you call the
clanking of the metal instruments against each other music
. When she thought of it, it actually was. To her ears anyway.
‘‘Your father is looking forward to hearing you play again.’’ They waited while the doorman hailed them a cab.
Elizabeth trapped her yawn behind a discreet hand. Would her fingers and tired brain remember the notes and reach the proper keys?
The following morning they reached the train station laden with the empty trunk Annabelle had brought now sufficiently full to be able to start a small shop. The hatboxes, stacked three high in two stacks, kept their finds from being crushed. Elizabeth’s valise swelled like a pumpkin in the fall, and the books she’d purchased at a newly found bookstore added another box. If she’d had the time, she would have shipped them right to the hospital for use in the fall.
‘‘My, what a marvelous time this has been. If I thought this could happen more than once a year, I would not have been so extravagant.’’
‘‘Why can’t it? Even though I will not have time to come home for the year, that doesn’t mean you cannot come to visit me, does it?’’
‘‘So very true. I could come, and then you would be forced to take a break to keep your mother happy.’’ The look she gave Elizabeth made the daughter fairly sure she wasn’t teasing quite as much as she would have her believe.
Elizabeth motioned her mother toward the open door of the train, where the conductor waited to assist them aboard. ‘‘I will want to see you every bit as much or even more than you do me. Just wait.’’
‘‘Easy, ma’am.’’ The dark man with the wide smile gave them each a hand upward.
‘‘Thank you.’’ Elizabeth kept a smile on her face as she fought the feeling that someone was indeed watching her.
Blessing, North Dakota
August 1895
‘‘Oh, dear God in heaven, save your son Swen.’’ Ingeborg sent a prayer winging upward as she hurried out the door.
‘‘Take Knute’s horse.’’ Haakan leaped for his wife’s basket and followed her outside. He gave her a leg up and handed her the basket while she shoved her bare feet into the stirrups. Making sure she had a hold on the reins, he stepped back and slapped the horse on the rump.
‘‘I’ll be right behind you.’’
‘‘I’ll get the buggy hitched,’’ Andrew called back on his way to the barn.
Ingeborg leaned low over the horse’s neck, drumming his sides with her legs. ‘‘Go, boy. Faster.’’ She slowed before the lane turned into the road, then kicked him into a dead gallop again. All the while her mind screamed to heaven, ‘‘Please, dear God, help us, please.’’ Tears blurred her vision, tears of fear and horror, tears caused by the wind, tears of pain for this family that had so recently lost so much.