he said quietly. “I strongly believe that things happen as God means them to.”
“I can’t see anything,” she confessed wearily, “except that my mother is gone, and now I have no one. Even Aunt Helen hates me.”
“Your aunt was literally in tears over what she said to you this morning,” he corrected. “She wanted to come back and apologize, but she was afraid you wouldn’t let her into the room. She was upset; you know how Helen is.”
“What am I going to do?” Dana asked him, dabbing at fresh tears.
“You’re going to go on with your life,” he said simply. “That life belongs to God, you know. Your profession is one of service. Isn’t that the best way to spend your grief, by lessening the pain for others?”
She felt warm inside at the thought, because nursing was so much more to her than a profession. It was a way of life: healing the sick, helping the injured, comforting the bereaved. Yes, she thought, and smiled. Yes, that was how she’d cope.
But it was easier said than done, unfortunately. In the days and weeks that followed, forgetting was impossible.
After the first week, time seemed to fly. Dana made the rounds on her ward, pausing to see Miss Ena, who was being difficult again. The thin old lady had demanded her injection a full hour early, but Dana only smiled and fluffed up the pillows with her usual efficiency.
“Now, Miss Ena,” she said with a quiet smile, “you know I’m not going to ignore Dr. Sanders’s order, and you shouldn’t ask me to. Suppose I have one of the volunteers come and read to you until it’s time. Would that help?”
Miss Ena’s sour face brightened just a little. “Well, I suppose it would,” she said reluctantly. She shifted her thin body against the pillows with a sigh. “Yes,” she said in a softer tone. “Thank you, it would help.”
“I know hospitals are hard on people who are used to gardening and walking the woods and pruning shrubbery,” Dana confessed, laying a hand on the thin shoulder. “But in a very little while, you’ll be back on your feet and doing what you please. Just keep that in mind. Believe me, it will help the time pass much more quickly.”
Miss Ena smiled faintly. “I’m not used to being laid up,” she confessed. “I don’t mean to be disagreeable. It’s only that I hate feeling helpless.”
“I know,” Dana said quietly. “No one likes it.” She fluffed the pillows again. “How about some television now? There’s a special country music awards program on,” she added, knowing the elderly woman’s fondness for that kind of music.
The old woman’s face brightened. “That would be nice,” she said after a minute.
Dana flicked on the switch and adjusted the channel, hiding a smile from Miss Ena.
* * *
Several weeks later Dana was called into Mrs. Pibbs’s office, and Dana knew without asking what the reason was.
“I’d like to forget this, Nurse,” she said, lifting the letter of resignation that Dana had placed on her desk early that morning as she came on duty. “Nursing has been your life. Surely you don’t mean to throw away all those years of training?”
Dana’s eyes were troubled. “I need time,” she said quietly. “Time to get over Mother’s death, time to sort out my priorities, to get myself back together again. I…I can’t bear familiar surroundings right now.”
Mrs. Pibbs leaned back with a sigh. “I understand.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “If it’s a change of scene that you need, I may have a suggestion for you. A friend of mine is looking for a private-duty nurse for her son. He lives in some god-forsaken place near the Atlantic Coast. He’s blind.”
“I hadn’t thought about doing private duty,” Dana murmured.
“You will have to support yourself,” Mrs. Pibbs reminded her. “Although the salary will be good, I must warn you that it won’t be all tranquility. I understand that Lorraine’s son has a black temper. He was an executive, you know, very high-powered, and an athlete to boot. He’s been relegated to the position of a figurehead with his electronics company.”
“The blindness, is it permanent?”
“I don’t know. Lorraine is rather desperate, however,” she added with a tiny smile. “He’s not an easy man to nurse.”
Mrs. Pibbs had made it into a challenge, and right now Dana needed that.
“Perhaps,” she murmured, “it would be just what I need.”
Mrs. Pibbs nodded smugly. “It might be just what Gannon needs too.”
Dana looked up. “Is that his name?”
“Yes. Gannon van der Vere. He’s Dutch.”
Immediately Dana pictured a small man with a mustache, very blond, as memory formed the one Dutchman she’d ever had any contact with—Mr. van Ryker, who’d once been a patient at the hospital. She smiled, softening already. Perhaps he could teach her Dutch while she helped him adjust to his blindness. And in helping him, perhaps she could forget her own anguish.
That night she was combing her long platinum-blond hair when Jenny came whirling in, hairpins flying as she rushed to get out of her nurse’s uniform and into a dress.
“Not going out tonight?” Jenny asked from the bathroom.
“Nowhere to go,” Dana replied, smiling into the mirror. “I’m having a quiet night.”
“You always have quiet nights. Why don’t you come out with Gerald and me?”
“No, thanks, I’d rather catch up on my sleep. I’ve been called out on cases twice in the past three days. How did that little girl do—the one with pneumonia that Dr. Hames admitted?”
“She’s responding. I think she’ll do.” Jenny came back out in a green-and-white-striped dress with matching green pumps. “Say, what’s the rumor about you quitting?” she asked. Jenny had never been one to listen to gossip without going to the object of it to get at the truth. It was the thing about her that Dana admired most.
“It’s true,” she said reluctantly, because she liked her roommate and would miss her. “I’m waiting to hear about a job Mrs. Pibbs knows of, but I have officially resigned as of next Monday.”
“Oh, Dana,” Jenny moaned.
“I’ll write,” she promised. “And so will you. It won’t be forever.”
“It’s your mother’s death, isn’t it?” Jenny asked softly. “Yes, I imagine it’s rough to be where you’re constantly reminded of her. And with the situation between you and your family…”
Dana’s eyes clouded. She turned away. “I’ll be fine,” she managed. “Have a good time tonight,” she added on a bright note.
Jenny sighed as she picked up her purse. “Can I smuggle you something when I come in? A filet mignon, a silk dressing gown, a Rolls, a man…?”
Dana
