In this moment, p.15
In This Moment, page 15
He covered my hand with his and inhaled deeply.
“Thank you for all your help today,” I whispered. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
We stared at one another for a heartbeat, and his gaze dropped to my lips. I felt a charge of electricity hum between us. Suddenly the kiss on his cheek was not enough. I ached for more.
Yet there was a soldier lying close to death on the bed—and Papa pacing in the parlor, waiting for an explanation.
I took a step back, swallowing the longing within.
Gray recovered as well. “I’ll stay with the soldier tonight. Tomorrow, we can talk.”
Nodding, I left the room and went down into the parlor. Papa stood near the cold fireplace. The house was quiet. I had not changed out of my soiled gown, but we needed to have this conversation. I wasn’t sure if he’d even believe me.
“Did the soldier die?” he asked.
“I think I saved his life.”
Papa sighed. “Are you going to explain?”
“I will try, but I don’t know if you’ll believe me.” I spoke quietly, hoping no one else would hear.
He took a seat on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. “Tell me.”
I lowered myself onto the sofa, my arms and legs heavy with exhaustion. “I was born with a gift,” I said without preamble. “I do not simply live here in 1861. I also live in the years 1941 and 2001. When I go to sleep here, I wake up in 1941, and when I go to sleep in 1941, I wake up in 2001. As soon as I fall asleep in 2001, I wake up back here, and no time has passed while I’ve been away. In 1941, I’m a navy nurse, and in 2001, I’m a medical student, working to become a surgeon. My parents in 1941 are marked with this gift, and I inherited it from them.”
Papa didn’t say anything for a long, long time. He just stared at me with very little emotion on his face.
I held my breath, afraid he’d think I was insane and send me to an asylum.
“This explains a lot,” he finally said. “When you were little, you used to talk about the strangest things and about people who seemed so real to you. You told me about horseless carriages, vehicles in the sky, boxes that had moving pictures inside them, and a whole host of things that made no sense. You told me about other parents and siblings and places I had never taken you before. At first I wrote it off as imagination or fancy, but you were so adamant and so convincing that I always wondered. And then one day you stopped talking about those things quite suddenly, and I put it out of my mind.”
“That was the day I finally understood that I was different,” I told him. “My marked mother warned me to stop talking about those things with you, since you would never understand and it would just complicate my life.”
Papa gently placed his hand over mine. “It is truly real, Margaret?”
I nodded. There was so much I wanted to tell him, so much I wanted to explain. Foremost in my mind was the fact that I might never come back to 1861, and now that he knew the truth, I needed to tell him the rest.
“My marked mother told me that if I knowingly change history in one of my paths, then I would forfeit that path.” I swallowed, my pulse beating hard. “I saved a man’s life today with a procedure that is not yet developed in 1861—a man who would have died had I not helped him.”
Papa stared at me. “What does that mean?”
“It means that I might have forfeited this path, Papa. It means I might not wake up here tomorrow. But I had to do it. I couldn’t sit back and watch him die if I could stop it from happening. I’m so sorry.”
He drew me into his arms, and I began to cry.
After today, I might never see him again. But I had finally told him the truth.
14
JULY 21, 1941
BETHESDA, MARYLAND
The next morning, I lay in my dorm room for a long time after I woke up. Anna was already in the shower down the hall. I needed to get dressed since I was supposed to be on duty in half an hour, but I couldn’t make myself get out of bed.
Rain drizzled down the windowpane, making the world look bleak. It had been raining for so many days now that I wondered if the sun would ever shine again.
Memories from the night before, as I’d cried on Papa’s shoulder, returned to me, and I felt the heaviness sink deeper into my soul. Would I ever see him again? Would I see Gray? Were they waking up, at this very moment, to discover that I had died? Papa would be inconsolable. And it was all for the life of a soldier I’d never met before. A nameless face who had been destined to bleed to death at the disastrous Battle of Bull Run until I’d come across him.
I closed my eyes tight, my soul searching for answers. “Lord,” I prayed quietly, “please don’t take 1861 away from me. I know the rules, and I know I broke them, but I didn’t intend to change history for my own gain or the gain of a loved one. I was doing what You created me to do—heal. I want to keep healing there, to take care of my father, and . . .”
I let the next part of my prayer trail off, though God knew what I was going to say.
I wanted to spend more time with Gray.
The sound of Anna’s slippered feet met my ears a moment before she opened the door, and I realized, belatedly, that I’d been crying.
“I hope you’re not getting sick,” she said as she hung her wet towel on the hook just behind the door. She wore a kimono and a shower cap over her hair to protect her waves. “Do you feel sick?”
I wiped my tears and pushed back my covers. “I’m okay.” I didn’t want to talk about yesterday, about the battle or the soldier or Gray. I wanted to forget all of it for now and turn my attention to this day. To this life. To this calling.
“You’ll be late if you don’t hurry.”
Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about what I was supposed to wear. I quickly put on my garter belt, undergarments, and silk stockings, then slipped into my white nurse’s uniform. I’d slept with a hairnet the night before to preserve my high curls and had to touch them up a bit to make them look presentable. After going to the bathroom to brush my teeth, splash cold water onto my face, and apply a little rouge and lipstick so I didn’t look so pale, I was ready to work.
Anna had already left to start her duties, so I walked to the surgery ward on my own. As hard as I tried, I could not stop thinking about Gray and how much I would miss him if I never saw him again. It wasn’t just disappointment I felt, but grief—more than I would have expected. I’d only known him a few months, yet I had felt a connection to him that I didn’t feel with anyone else. He was so perceptive, so present in each situation. Even on the battlefield, he’d never lost his cool or panicked. When I barked orders at him, he had followed them and not been angry or insulted by my behavior. He’d helped me during the long surgery and never questioned my abilities. I wished I had thought to apologize to him for my tone on the battlefield . . . but at least I had kissed him.
Just the thought of my lips on his cheek brought heat to my own. I’d never kissed a man, other than my fathers, and though it was a chaste kiss, it had still filled me with an inexplicable feeling. What would it be like to truly kiss him?
I might never know.
My mood was foul as I entered the operating room. I just wanted this day to end so I could wake up in 2001 and then survive that day so I could see if I’d lost 1861 forever. Part of me wanted time to hurry, while the other part was deathly afraid of knowing.
“You’re late,” Dr. Philips said as he looked up from a clipboard.
I tried not to scowl, though if anyone deserved the blunt end of my bad mood, it was him. He’d been moody almost every day I had known him.
“Our first case was canceled,” he said. “Our next surgery is not scheduled for another hour.”
“Then why does it matter if I’m late?” My voice was sharper than I intended, surprising us both.
A frown deepened his brow. “What’s wrong?”
I tried to calm my mind. He didn’t deserve my wrath. No one did. Thankfully, there was no one else in the room. “Nothing.”
“You’re usually the brightest one in here. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Perhaps I’m finally giving you a taste of your own medicine.”
Dr. Philips was my senior officer and the head surgeon, but at the moment he was just a man—one who confounded me daily.
He set down the clipboard and walked over to me, concern on his face. “What made you decide that today was the day?”
His usual scowl was missing, and he didn’t look well. His face was pinched with pain, and the skin on his hands looked red and blotchy again.
My anger fizzled, replaced with concern. “What’s wrong with you?”
He looked down at his hands. “I’ve been adding foods back into my diet. I think I found the culprit—at least, one of them. Yeast.”
I frowned. “Yeast?”
“I added bread back into my diet, and I began to have symptoms again.”
Shaking my head, I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t the yeast, it was the wheat causing his problems. But I shut it again. He’d have to figure it out for himself or not at all.
It made me angry all over again.
If I knew, why couldn’t I tell him? Why had God given me this gift if I couldn’t use it? It was Bull Run and the soldier all over again. Would I be penalized for using my skills and talents?
Turning away, I went to the instrument table and began to look over the tools we’d need for the next surgery, rearranging items with more force than necessary.
Dr. Philips was quiet for a few minutes, and then he slowly walked over to me. “Have I made you upset?”
I turned and found he was a bit closer than I had anticipated. He had never cared if he’d made me upset before.
“No. At least, not recently.”
One of his elusive smiles appeared—and then just as quickly disappeared as he went over to the clipboard again and picked it up. “I have some news, actually, and I thought I should tell you before you hear it from someone else.”
I was still a little shaken by his behavior and had to work to focus on what he was saying. “News?”
“I’ve been given new orders. I’ll be leaving the Naval Medical Center in less than a week.”
His announcement took a moment for me to process. He was leaving? Now, when we were just learning how to work well together? I wasn’t prepared to say good-bye to him.
“Where are you going?”
He set the clipboard aside again and hitched up a leg on the corner of a desk, crossing his arms. “For most of my naval career, I’ve worked on hospital ships. I was only sent here to help get this place up and running. I’m being sent to a new ship, the USS Solace. It’s being converted from an ocean liner to a hospital ship in New York City as we speak. It will be sailing out of New York on August ninth. At least, that’s the plan right now.”
“You’ll be on a hospital ship?” I felt like my feet were sinking. I didn’t want to feel so disappointed that he was leaving, and I didn’t want it to show on my face. It didn’t make sense. He was difficult, moody, and hard to please. But he was also brilliant, thoughtful, and he’d come to trust me enough to ask for my opinion.
And when he smiled? He lit up the room.
“Where will you be stationed?”
“Our eventual destination is Pearl Harbor, in Honolulu, Hawaii.”
The room felt like it tipped on its side, and I had to reach for something to steady me. “Pearl Harbor?” I whispered.
He watched me, nodding slowly as he frowned.
He couldn’t go to Pearl Harbor. It would be the site of one of the most devastating moments in American history—and he’d be in the very midst of it.
But what could I say or do to stop him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“I’ve asked for Nurse Daly to join me,” he said, “as my Chief of Nurses. She’ll be putting together a team of eleven nurses to join her.” He paused. “I’ve requested that you be one of them.”
“Me?” I felt the air leave my lungs. “I can’t go to Pearl Harbor.”
“If this is about your sister, we can have her transferred there as well. I think you’d like Hawaii. It’s a magnificent island in the Pacific Ocean. There’s nothing else quite like it.”
“Why me?” I asked. “I’ve only just started—I’m not even twenty-one, as you’ve pointed out. Surely you’d want someone with more experience.”
“You know there’s no one else like you.”
I stared at him, wondering if he realized what he’d just said. “I thought you said there were many good reasons to keep me at a distance.”
He was quiet again. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower than normal. “Perhaps there are a lot more reasons to keep you close.”
The look in his eyes was so intense, I had to remember to breathe.
Was it smart to go to Pearl Harbor? Not only because of what I knew would happen, but especially because of what I didn’t know.
“I’ll speak to Anna,” I finally said. “When do you need our answer?”
“A few days, at most.”
“I’ll let you know by Friday.”
The door opened, and another nurse entered, her arms full of linens. She didn’t seem to notice the tension in the room as she set down the towels and began to separate them.
Dr. Philips met my gaze one last time before he went back to his work. He would not pressure me to come, but just knowing he wanted me there was an honor.
At least this would give me something to focus on today so I didn’t have to worry about 1861.
“You told him we would go, right?” Anna held a tray as she walked through the cafeteria. “How many people are sent to Hawaii on the government’s tab? It would be like a dream vacation!”
A nightmare was more like it.
“But it’s so far away,” I reminded her. “And I’ll have to make my final decision while we’re there. I won’t get to say good-bye to Mama and Daddy if I don’t choose 1941.”
“Then let’s ask for leave and go see them now, before we go to New York.”
I couldn’t deny that I wanted to see Mama and Daddy again. We’d been writing and had called a few times, but there was something special about being back in Williamsburg.
“Teddy is visiting,” Anna said. “We could spend the night and then return the next day. I’m sure we could get leave.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell Anna what would happen at Pearl Harbor, and it was probably for the best. If she knew, she could inadvertently change history, and I would be to blame.
It was already hard enough not knowing if I had forfeited 1861.
Besides, Mama and Daddy didn’t even know what was going to happen on December 7. They knew we would have another war, because Mama’s marked mother had told her, but they didn’t know how it would start or what it would entail. I had never told them. If they knew, would they advise us to go? Or would they tell us to stay in Washington?
“Maybe we should talk to Mama and Daddy about the opportunity,” I suggested. “They might have good advice.”
“What advice do you need?” Anna asked as she accepted a plate of mashed potatoes and meatloaf from the cook. “We’d be fools not to go. Can you imagine? A big ocean liner docked in Honolulu?”
Her green eyes lit up at the possibility, and it gave me hope. I’d thought about not telling her we’d been asked to go, but that hadn’t felt justifiable. Anna had every right to make up her own mind—especially since I couldn’t tell her the future. She needed her own freedom to choose, just as I did. But since I had foreknowledge, my options were different.
“I already know what I will choose,” Anna said as she took a glass of milk and grabbed a dinner roll. “I want to go.”
I accepted my own plate of mashed potatoes and meatloaf and followed her to one of the tables near a window. It was still raining.
“Unless,” Anna said, moving her carrot cake off her tray and onto the table, “the offer only stands if you go.”
I shrugged. “I think they’d want you either way.”
“You know why Dr. Philips asked for you.”
I tried to pretend I was oblivious. “No. Why?”
“Maggie, the man is falling in love with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I couldn’t meet her gaze. She’d see right through me.
“Everyone’s talking about it. It’s so obvious when you’re in a room together. You’ve captivated him, and you’re probably the only woman who’s ever had that effect on him before. No wonder he wants you in Hawaii with him. Can you imagine being romanced on Waikiki Beach?”
“He didn’t ask me to go there to romance me. I know that for certain. He respects my opinions and has come to rely on my help in the operating room. Nothing more.”
“You’re either lying to yourself or lying to me.” She cut into her meatloaf with her fork, shaking her head. “Even though he has a tough exterior, most of the nurses in this hospital would love to have his undivided attention.”
“I’m not most nurses.”
She kept cutting her meatloaf and muttered, “You’re most definitely not.”
My meal sat on my tray, unappetizing. Even if I had liked meatloaf, it wouldn’t have appealed to me today. Everything felt off, and my stomach was in knots.
“I think Mama and Daddy will encourage us to go,” Anna said after a few bites of her food. “We could both use a change of scenery.”
But what we couldn’t use was the horrors of Pearl Harbor. She didn’t know what was coming, but I did. And I needed to decide whether it was up to me to prevent her from more death and devastation. She’d already had more than her fair share.
Yet I recalled what she’d told me before. It wasn’t my job to play God or to fix things for her. She was able to make her own decisions.
Perhaps going home to Williamsburg would help me find the answer.
15
JULY 21, 2001
WASHINGTON, DC
P Street was quiet as I walked toward home from my parking spot. My shift in the emergency room had been busy, for which I was thankful. But the thought of 1861 had always been there, like a splinter under my fingernail, irritating and worrying me. I was tired and my feet were sore, but I had several hours of studying ahead of me before I could go to sleep and face my fate.
