Gabrielle Meyer - A Mother In The Making

John laid his forearms on top of his desk and leaned closer. “What?”

Winnie’s face crumpled and she dropped her head, great sobs shuddering through her body.

John rose, his instinct to heal coming to the forefront of his actions. “Nurse, could you please bring the children to a different room while I speak with Mrs. Jensen?”

“Of course.” Nurse Hendricks rose and lifted first one girl into her arms and then somehow managed to take the other. “Come, boys, I will show you where the cook keeps the cookie jar.”

One of the boys willingly went with Nurse Hendricks, but the other watched his mother cry, his own eyes filling with tears.

John took his clean handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Winnie, then ushered the second boy out of the room, closing the door softly.

He turned back to his friend. “Winnie, what’s the matter?”

He hated to see her in such distress.

She looked wretched as she bent over, her body shaking. “It’s awful! I don’t know what I will do.”

John took his chair from behind his desk and brought it out to sit in front of her. He took her hand in his. “Are you sick? Is there something I can do for you?”

She looked up, and her brown eyes were awash in tears. “I didn’t know where else to go. I have no family in town, and I have no money to travel back to Rhode Island to be with my father. I’ve been living on the kindness of neighbors and the church, but I don’t know how much longer I can rely on them.”

John rubbed the top of her hand. “Slow down and tell me what happened.”

The tears began again and she put her face into the handkerchief. “I’m pregnant.”

John sat up straight. “Pregnant?”

“I’ve been denying it for months. I suspected it when Calvin became sick—but I didn’t have time to think much about it after he died—” Her sobs choked off her words.

John moved his chair so he was sitting beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. He couldn’t imagine if Anna had been left to care for their four children. At least she would have had her mother and sister. Winnie was all alone.

She clutched his hand, her eyes wild with fear. “What if I have another set of twins?”

John patted her shoulder. “Don’t borrow trouble, Winnie. You must take everything a day at a time. If you don’t, you won’t be able to bear it.”

“I can’t.” She shook her head, a hiccup escaping her mouth. “I can’t do this. It’s too much.”

“What are your other options?” John pulled away from her and offered her a little space. “You must do what you’re called to do.”

She wiped at her cheeks and bit her trembling lip. “I’m considering something drastic.”

“It’s never a good idea to make a drastic decision when we’re upset.”

“I’m thinking about offering up—” She began to cry again.

“Shh.” John tried to soothe her. “Winnie, I promise, everything will work out.”

“I’m thinking about giving some of my children up for adoption.”

“Adoption? You’re not thinking straight.”

“But how will I provide for them? I have no means of income. My only option is to marry again, but who would want to marry a bereaved woman with five or six children, all under the age of four?” She stared at him, her face splotched and swollen.

John sat up straight. If Anna was still alive, she’d insist they help Winnie, and he liked to think that Calvin would have helped Anna in the same situation. But how?

“Will you help me, John?” Winnie reached out and took his hands. “I’m desperate. I can’t go through this alone.”

“Is there anyone?”

“Anyone to do what?”

He lifted a shoulder. This was an uncomfortable conversation to have with a friend. If she had been a stranger, perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard. He pulled his hands out of her grasp and stood. “Is there anyone who might...?”

“Marry me?” She also stood. “Who? The war, and now the influenza pandemic, has left no family untouched.” She wadded up the handkerchief. “I would not dream of being so presumptuous to ask...and it embarrasses me to even admit why I came here...”

She wanted John to marry her.

He took a step back and bumped into the desk. The list he had made earlier was still facedown, waiting for his attention. Winnie fit most of the criteria on the list, if not all—but she was Anna’s friend, his friend—and she had four children to care for, more on the way. She was clearly overwhelmed with her responsibilities and her grief. Could she be a stable mother for his children?

Charlie, Lilly, Petey and Laura were John’s first concern. He needed a woman who would love them like Anna had.

Was it Winnie?

“Winnie—”

“Don’t say no right away.” She had stopped crying and was now looking at him with an intense gaze. “Please think about it, for me—for Calvin and Anna.”

What was the harm in thinking about her as a prospect? Before Calvin had died, Winnie was a happy young woman who was quick to laugh and offer help where needed. Maybe, when her grief subsided, she could be the mother his children needed.

Maybe.

“Would you and the children like to come for supper this week?” It was the very least he could do for an old friend. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

Her shoulders loosened, and she let out a long breath. “Thank you. We would love to come.”

“Wednesday night?”

She dabbed at her cheeks again, her hands shaking, and suddenly looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry about all this—”

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You don’t need to be sorry, Winnie. We’re friends. I’m happy you came to me.”

She put one hand on his and offered him the faintest smile. “Thank you, John. I knew if anyone could understand, it would be you. I look forward to Wednesday.”

He nodded and opened the door for her. “Me, too.”

She walked down the hall toward the waiting room and looked over her shoulder one last time before he stepped back into his office.

He closed the door and stood for a moment. It wasn’t enough that he was grieving his own loss, and treating dozens of patients who were dying every day, but he was also grieving the loss of friends.

He walked back to his desk and turned the sheet of paper over. Winnie might fit the criteria, but could he marry her? He would share a meal with her and get to know her better before making a final decision. If he didn’t marry her, he would have to find some other way to help.

Miss Maren’s smiling face suddenly appeared in his mind, and for some reason he couldn’t identify, he was eager to get home and see her. Was it because he was worried she couldn’t handle his four children, or was it because he longed for her cheery disposition right about now?

He surmised it was the former. Of course.

* * *

“You’re sure she isn’t married?” Marjorie put Laura on her other hip and leaned down to ask Lilly, “That one, over there?”

Lilly looked across the mercantile and nodded vigorously. “That’s Miss Baker. She teaches Sunday school at church.”

After picking the two older children up from school, Marjorie had brought them downtown to see if she could spot anyone who might make a good bride for the doctor. She and Lilly had extended half a dozen invitations to their tea party in just an hour—and they were about to extend another.

Marjorie straightened and peered around the display of ladies’ handkerchiefs. The woman in question was perusing a rack of sheet music, flipping through the songs in quick order. She wore a trim black coat and a jaunty purple hat, tilted just so on her brown curls.

Miss Baker must have sensed Marjorie’s gaze, because she suddenly looked her way.