The Doctor's Undoing (10 page)

Maybe, just maybe, time would settle them into a smoother working relationship. So far she'd done more good than harm, and Daniel found he didn't like the thought of the Parker Home without her in the infirmary.

It's only been three weeks
, he told himself as he rose to get ready for bed.
Give her time. She may surprise you.

He laughed at himself as he doused the light in his parlor.
May surprise you?
She'd done nothing but surprise him from the moment she set foot on the property.

Chapter Eleven

F
riday just after lunch, Daniel was going over plans for an upcoming outing with Mr. Grimshaw while the boys were out in the yard when the calamity broke out. The shouting, yelling and—what was that yappy noise?—came through the window in such a burst that both he and Grimshaw sprang to their feet and made for the window that looked out onto the grass.

There, with her back to him in a circle of noisy boys, stood an impeccably dressed woman. A small white creature ran in crazed circles at her feet. When the woman turned toward the animal, Daniel was shocked to recognize the visitor as none other than Isabelle Hooper. MacNeil, who had evidently just let her in through the visitors' gate, stood beside her with a baffled expression on his face. Mrs. Hooper, it seemed, was here with her dog—if that indeed was what that thing was. Mother had told him stories of Chester the ridiculously coddled poodle, but he'd never met the animal—until now.

“A dog?” Grimshaw balked, scratching his forehead. “Someone's brought a dog?”

Without attempting to hide his displeasure, Daniel sighed. “I expect this is Nurse Landway's doing.”

“A dog?” Grimshaw repeated, clearly at a loss for other words as the noise level kept going up in the yard.

Daniel had been hoping for a quiet Friday afternoon. A series of academic tests taken this week had left the boys boisterous and argumentative under the strain. Yesterday's fencing had been a lesson in chaos—and now this. This was a poor time for any visitor, much less Isabelle Hooper and her dog. He'd been trying to gain Mrs. Hooper's attentions for any number of months now, but this? A surprise visit—and one with Chester to boot—hardly seemed destined to end well.
Lord, deliver me!

No one was going to deliver him from this but himself, it seemed. With a grumbling sigh, Daniel lifted his coat from the back of his chair and began to roll his sleeves down to button the cuffs. “I'll go greet our guest. Guest
s
. Grimshaw, would you be kind enough to run by Miss Landway's office and ask her to join me in the front room?” Daniel hated the thought of admitting the jumping, running beast into his parlor, but he could think of no other way to keep the boys away from the yapping dog long enough for a conversation to take place.

By the time he made it to the front gate and Mrs. Hooper, word of the dog's presence—or just the high-pitched bark—had evidently reached the girls, for he found Mrs. Smiley vainly trying to herd the girls back inside away from the dog. For a panicked second, Daniel could not tell if the sounds emanating from Isabelle Hooper were cries of fear or laughter. Thankfully, a closer view showed that the woman seemed to be as amused as the dog as it leaped from lap to lap and hand to hand, barking and jumping.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hooper,” Daniel shouted as he made his way into the circle of excited children surrounding the woman.

Mrs. Hooper produced a rubber ball from her handbag—an act that made Daniel's eyes pop in surprise—and handed it to the nearest boy. “Here. Chester simply loves to chase this.”

“Here, Chester, here, boy!” cried the boy, followed by a chorus of “Here, Chester!” seemingly from every child in the yard. Chester, good sport that he was, proceeded to chase the ball and plant happy licks on everyone he could reach.

“My goodness, Ida was right,” Mrs. Hooper said, adjusting her hat, which had slipped off to one side. “They really do enjoy each other.”

Daniel motioned two boys apart so that Mrs. Hooper had an exit from the circle. “Miss Landway asked you to bring...” He found himself hesitating just a bit before addressing the dog by name. “...Chester with you for a visit today?”

“Well, actually I do think we talked about a time next week, but Chester and I were on this end of town and it is such a lovely day. Besides, I found I couldn't wait to meet my girls.”

Daniel looked toward the door behind Mrs. Hooper, willing Ida Landway to appear on the scene and explain. When she did not yet appear, he ventured, “Your girls?”

“Oh, that's right, we're to keep this a secret, aren't we?” She pulled Daniel to the side, completely unalarmed that her four-legged associate was mired in a mass of cooing, petting, giggling children. Daniel feared the small dog might be crushed, but Mrs. Hooper seemed to harbor no such concerns. “The girls I'm knitting socks for,” she explained in a whisper. “We've each been assigned four, and I found I wanted to meet them before I put on the final touches.”

Daniel had no idea how to respond. The whole thing baffled him on multiple levels. Visits? Assignments? A dog?

“Mrs. Hooper!” came Miss Landway's voice from behind him, a very satisfying panic pitching her greeting high. “I thought you and Chester were coming next week.”

“And we are, dear, but...” The woman's eyes darted back and forth between Daniel and Miss Landway, picking up on the tension now strung between them. “Perhaps it wasn't the smartest idea to just show up.”

“No, truly—”

“It's quite fine—” Daniel and Miss Landway both gushed refutes at the same time, moments before a red ball sailed through the air, just missing Daniel's forehead and causing him to duck.

Daniel straightened, determined to take control of the situation. “We always welcome visitors, Mrs. Hooper, but we'd have been so much better prepared to receive you if you had let us know you were coming.”

“Pshaw, Dr. Parker. I require no reception. You have other concerns than receiving old ladies.”

Concerns that involve a crazed dog
, Daniel thought as he applied a casual smile. “Why don't you come into the front room and we can have a chat there. Chester will welcome a bit of rest from his many...admirers, too, I expect.”

“Delighted.” She turned to the children and gave a small whistling sound, which brought Chester to her side immediately, much to the dismay of the children. “Give me some time to talk with Dr. Parker and Nurse Landway, children, and I promise Chester and I will come back outside for another visit.”

In response to that promise, Mr. Grimshaw displayed an amused resignation while Mrs. Smiley's face was pinched tight with irritation. Clearly, the pair of teachers had come to the same conclusion Daniel had: hope of any further classroom accomplishments for the afternoon had just disappeared.

“I was going to tell you—” Nurse Landway started in a whispered voice just behind him.

“Next week?” Daniel threw back over his shoulder as softly as he could manage, only barely able to keep the irritation from his voice. It was going to take every ounce of control he had to make Mrs. Hooper feel as if her visit was the high point of his day. Here he'd just been thinking how nicely Miss Landway was finally fitting in—he'd gone and bought her paints, for goodness' sake—and she went and did something like this. An animal visit! An
invited
animal visit!

A whining chorus of “Why can't Chester stay out here with us?” and “We never get to play with dogs!” sounded in his ears as he held the door open for Mrs. Hooper and Miss Landway. Mrs. Hooper looked as if the whole thing had been great fun. Miss Landway had the good sense to look guilty.

“Isabelle,” said the nurse, “why don't I go arrange for some iced tea and coffee to be brought while you talk to the doctor. And perhaps a dish of water for Chester?”

“A fine idea, dear. And darling of you to think of Chester. He's had quite the exercise with those youngsters. But coffee?”

Miss Landway managed an “I'm so sorry about this” smile as she nodded toward Daniel. “Dr. Parker prefers coffee.”

“In this weather? Goodness, I don't know how you stand it.”

“Thank you, Miss Landway,” Daniel said, motioning toward the small setting of tables and chairs. He didn't know whether to admire Miss Landway's cunning exit, or be annoyed at having been left alone to entertain Mrs. Hooper and Chester. The latter was eyeing him with large pleading eyes and a panting pink tongue, oblivious to all the chaos he'd just caused.

“I'm glad for the chance to speak with you, Daniel. I know your mother well, you know.”

Everyone does
, Daniel thought. “It's too bad she wasn't able to join your project.”

She waved the comment off. “Oh, come now, we both know she wasn't ever interested. I asked her to be polite, really. She's done more than enough for the Home over her life already.” She began petting the little dog, who had settled himself delicately into her lap. “I find this a most creative project. You've quite the talented nurse there. I'd never have thought to look to the army base for a nurse for your Home, but I dare say it's been a great success.”

Daniel wasn't sure
success
was the word he had in mind at this particular moment. Still, the woman's kind words bore out a surprising truth: he had assumed the volunteer ladies' enthusiasm had been won by Leanne Gallows, but perhaps Ida had a greater hand in it than he'd realized. “Miss Landway is a very creative person.”

“I've become rather invested, knitting these little socks. I hadn't expected that to happen. I want to meet the girls I'm knitting for. Actually, I'd like to continue meeting them, and I know some of the other ladies feel the same way. I'm hoping Miss Landway and I can devise a way to maintain a personal connection with the girls over the year. Do you think that can be arranged? A sponsorship of sorts. You know, cards on birthdays, gifts at Christmas, that sort of thing?”

Daniel removed his glasses. “It's a lovely sentiment, Mrs. Hooper, and I do appreciate all you're doing. It just might be a bit more difficult in practice.”

“Miss Landway seems to think you are capable of anything. Surely arranging for small kindnesses for some of the girls shouldn't pose a challenge.”

Here it was again: the never-ending battle of “some” versus “all.”

“I'm not against kindnesses. I welcome anything we can do for the children. But please understand, it creates new problems if
some
children get things and others don't. I'm sure Miss Landway told you the story of the pink booties that launched the whole project of socks for her.”

“Oh, she most certainly did.” From the look on Mrs. Hooper's face, the story did little to dissuade her. He was going to rue the day those little pink booties came into his life. Was? He already did.

* * *

Ida walked into the room just as Dr. Parker was talking Mrs. Hooper out of getting further involved. Her heart sank to hear the doctor's practical, discouraging tone. She'd begun to have such high hopes for him when he'd purchased the paint, only to have them dashed again today. “So I can't do things for the four children I've knit socks for?” Mrs. Hooper's voice was actually sad.

“I'm not saying that exactly. I'm saying that we must ensure that the children are treated equally.”

“I know it's hard to realize,” Ida offered at the disappointment in Mrs. Hooper's tone, “but comparison is our worst enemy here. We want each child to feel special, but it is so hard when close quarters make it impossible to hide if one child has a treat that the others do not. Please don't let that discourage you. We really do want your help.”

“Well, I suppose there's only one thing to do, then.” Ida held her breath, fearful Mrs. Hooper would give up when she was sure the older woman had so much love to give. If she gave the children on her list even one-quarter of the devotion she showed to Chester, it would be an abundance to the girls. “We'll have to ensure that all the women get involved.”

Ida sank into a chair as someone from the kitchen set a tray on the table between her, Mrs. Hooper and Dr. Parker. Suddenly this small impulse to knit socks for one girl was ballooning into something much larger than she could ever have imagined. Ida put a hand to her chest, astonished. “You'd do that?”

“It's a sizable commitment, Mrs. Hooper,” Dr. Parker advised.

“Well, of course it is,” Mrs. Hooper dismissed. “But really, what in life worth doing isn't?” Chester perked up at the bowl of water the server set at Mrs. Hooper's feet, hopping from her lap to tuck his white nose noisily into the bowl. “Now, there you are, Chester. Look how kind they are to you here.” She turned her gaze to Dr. Parker. “I rather like the idea of making a personal connection. I serve as a patron for several fine artists. Why not become a patron to orphans, as well?”

“You'd have to get all the women equally involved,” Ida admitted. “We simply can't single one group of girls out for special treatment.” She felt compelled to add, “Even though they all are so very special, don't you think?”

“I've been thinking I needed a new project. Why not this?” Mrs. Hooper accepted the glass of iced tea Dr. Parker offered. “Now, just to be clear, ‘equal' doesn't have to mean ‘identical,' am I right? As long as each child receives the same amount of attention, am I free to treat each child individually? If one child likes licorice, and another likes peppermint, I don't have to buy them both licorice, do I? I hardly think that's a true kindness.”

Dr. Parker picked up his coffee cup. “Are you telling me you want a one-on-one relationship with each child?”

“Well, not all of them. Just my four. And each of the other five ladies will foster relationships with their four. Think of us as...well, a little band of surrogate aunties.”

Or fairy godmothers, Ida thought. “That's so much more than we'd hoped for, Mrs. Hooper. I don't know what to say.”

“That's easy.” Mrs. Hooper laughed. “Say yes.”

“It's not really my yes to say.” Ida looked at Dr. Parker. He couldn't possibly disapprove of such generosity, could he? Not when Isabelle Hooper was offering such an abundance of attention to the girls. “Please, Dr. Parker, I do think this could be wonderful.”