Corrie appreciated the fact that Dr. Benjamin had not minced words or veiled the truth from her, but all she could hear him saying was, "I can give you no promises." Christina may fully recover, or she may never recover.
"Thank you for your candor," Corrie finally murmured.
"Miss Walker, may I be frank with you?" Dr. Benjamin asked, recalling her gaze.
His eyes, dark blue and still like the waters of the bay, had lost their humor and spoke only solemnity. "Of course," she murmured though she thought he had been frank enough for one day.
"I think recovery is fully within Christina's grasp," he said, and Corrie felt her entire body bloom with hope as if she were a wilting flower in need of rejuvenating water.
"Really?" she asked breathlessly.
"I do." He nodded. "It's her..her state of mind that I'm concerned about. I understand that she has endured a lot, especially with David Marshall joining the war. I also understand that your parents have been less than supportive. When you were absent, she was largely listless and depressed, and Hannah and your aunt were the only people she would speak to. I can see a marked difference in her morale since you've returned." Dr. Benjamin hesitated. "I'm reticent to say this, Miss Walker, but I feel it's my duty as her doctor. She needs you. She needs someone who loves and cares about her to be by her side, supporting her through her recovery."
Corrie nodded; she'd realized the same thing as soon as she'd arrived. She had committed to staying in Irvington until Christina recovered even if that was long after the war. Were her parents kinder or David here to care for her, Corrie might contemplate returning sooner to New York and Edwin, but Corrie was Christina's one and only lifeline.
"That's been my plan since I saw her condition, Doctor."
"I'm very sorry that you'll have to put aside your studies," he added, and his face looked as downcast as she had been.
Corrie smiled. "You're very kind. If anything, putting off my formal studies is only pushing me to pursue my aspirations privately."
"Are you an avid reader of poetry, Miss Walker?"
"I am," Corrie said with a nod. "Or, I try to be."
"Then let me support your pursuit of knowledge," he said with a lopsided grin. "I have quite the collection of poetry in the second story of our home. Please, borrow a few of the books while you are here."
"Oh, I couldn't!" Corrie exclaimed.
As soon as he said the words, however, she was instantly assessing her own meager collection of poetry books. If he loved poetry as much as he seemed to, she could only imagine what his library must be like.
"But you must. Consider it payment for your volunteer work at the hospital," he implored, eyes eager.
"Well, if you insist," Corrie said hesitantly.
"I do. I'll even bring you a few of my favorite editions tomorrow, assuming you'll be here?"
"Thank you, that would be wonderful!" Corrie exclaimed, her reticence to accepting his generosity fading.
"It's my pleasure."
~~~~~
Though she had not yet received a response from her most recent letter, Corrie knew she needed to pen another missive to Edwin. She had known almost as soon as she had arrived that this was no temporary vacation as Edwin seemed to think it was. As the doctor had implied, she needed to stay by Christina's side until she either recovered or... Corrie refused to entertain the alternative.
However, although she had tried to gently explain to Edwin the possibility of having to lengthen her stay, he seemed to think she'd be back in a matter of weeks. She considered calling Edwin, but she knew how busy he was even though school was on hiatus for the summer; no, she would have to send him a letter and pray for his understanding.
Would he break their courtship? It was possible, and she felt the tremor of uncertainty that came from imagining a future without Edwin. However, she felt as if her future was bifurcating in two directions: New York, Edwin, and her education, and Christina and home. Would letting go of Edwin and her independence in New York be letting go of her dreams and ambitions? Perhaps the choice was Edwin's to make rather than her own.
Sighing, Corrie set her fountain pen to paper and began to write.
Dear Edwin,
I hope this letter finds you well. I apologize for bothering you again so soon after my previous letter, but I have received news that I must relay. Christina's doctor returned today, and I was able to speak frankly with him about Christina's recovery. I'm afraid that due to her injury, she may never be able to walk again. Additionally, she is still afflicted by pneumonia. The doctor has given me hope for her eventual recovery, but it could take far longer than I originally anticipated.
Unfortunately, due to our parents' antipathy for Christina's aspirations and her suitor, currently stationed in Europe in the army, were I to return to New York, Christina would be left to recover alone. The doctor has indicated, as I myself have surmised by observation, that Christina's spirits greatly affect her health. Her morale has increased since my arrival, and to leave her now in the midst of her ailment would be to surrender her to its clutches.
That being said, I have committed myself to remaining by her side until she has fully recovered. As her sister, it is my duty and privilege to care for her. I have no estimation of the length of time her recovery will require, be it days, months, or even years, but I must stay by her side. I hope you will understand.
Affectionately yours,
Corrie Walker
As Corrie sealed the letter and delivered it to Mr. Bricker, she realized this could be her last letter to Edwin. Though she trusted that he cared for her, she could not pretend that their affection was strong enough to last years apart. The thought brought a sort of detached sorrow. She liked Edwin; he made her happy with his charming joviality, over enthusiastic pursuit of satisfaction, and doting affection. Surrendering him, or having him surrender her, seemed like a goodbye to her life in New York.
Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Corrie admonished herself. She must wait and see how Edwin would reply before assuming their end was already here.
~~~~~
"Corrie, you don't look well," Christina commented when Corrie came in the next morning.
Despite her best efforts to avoid dwelling on the subject, she had spent a fitful night contemplating the possible end of her courtship with Edwin. Though premature, she mourned the loss of their good memories in New York City--walking through Central Park, drinking tea at local cafes, attending balls and concerts with New York's finest.
"Corrie?" Christina asked again, finally drawing Corrie from her painful reverie.
"Sorry, Chris," Corrie apologized with a half smile. "I wrote to Edwin last night."
Corrie was afraid to say anymore at the risk of heaping guilt on her sister's head; Christina would blame herself if she knew her infirmity was what came between Edwin and Corrie though it was Corrie's decision to make.
"Is it...are you fighting?"
"Not yet," Corrie hesitated, trying to soften her words, "I think he expected me to return soon, but I'm staying. I just...I'm not sure how he'll respond to me remaining here longer."
"I'm sure he'll understand," Christina said with full confidence.
Perhaps David would, Corrie thought, apprehensive that Edwin's commitment to her was not so strong.
"Dr. B came by this morning," Christina said, distracting Corrie.
"Oh?" Corrie asked, smiling at the thought of the benevolent doctor. "What'd he say about your recovery?"
"He wasn't here to see me," Christina responded with a quirk of her lips.
"Me?" Corrie asked, her voice squeaking a little.
The very mention of the doctor's visit filled her with disquiet. Dr. Benjamin was unassuming and generous, but something about him unnerved her. She blamed it on their several bizarre encounters - first with the stars, and then with the poetry. Or perhaps she was unaccustomed to his effortless selflessness. Maybe she was set on edge by the way he seemed to so keenly understand Corrie's willingness to sacrifice for her family. Whatever it was, though she liked the man and trusted him, he piqued both her interest and caution.
"Yes, he brought you a few books of poetry. I told you that you'd have a lot in common," Christina declared, a triumphant, satisfied smile on her face.
Corrie spotted a small stack of hardback books on the windowsill and grabbed them ravenously, flipping through the titles. Robert Burns. Lord Byron. Emily Dickinson. Corrie wanted to disregard her sister and consume the books, but she ruefully held them on her lap and resisted their allure.
"I'll bet you Edwin never brought you poetry," Christina declared, and though she meant it as a joke, Corrie realized that he never had.
~~~~~
Aw, Corrie! So, serious question: Who's your favorite character so far? Least favorite? Leave me a comment to let me know! How about your favorite poet? I really love e. e. cummings, Lang Leav, and pretty much all of the older poets.
Thanks for reading, and welcome to all of the new reader! I appreciate all of you :) If you're enjoying this story, please click the star to vote for it, and leave a comment if you'd like.
~ Hannah