The Forgotten Room(64)
“It’s a bit warm,” I said, wondering why she was wasting my time talking about the weather.
“Not if you’re from Charleston. The heat and humidity in the summer are like a wet blanket that’s been resting on coals. It takes some getting used to if you’re not a native like Cooper and me. We were born and raised in Charleston. As a matter of fact, my family has been in Charleston for over two hundred years—isn’t that something? We’ve had a cotton plantation on the Waccamaw River in Georgetown County since the Revolution, which means we have a lot of family connections. Important connections that can make or break an art gallery or even an artist.”
She paused a moment to smooth the loose hair under her hat. “Has Cooper told you that we’ve known each other since we were in diapers? We have so much in common. Our families are even next-door neighbors at our summer retreats on Edisto.”
We continued to walk, but I was becoming less and less aware of my surroundings as she spoke, understanding seeping through me like water through sand.
“Cooper and I are two of a kind, Kate. May I call you Kate?”
I nodded numbly.
“You see, Kate, the best marriages are those that are made between two people from the same world. They understand the same things.” She turned her face toward me and her eyes seemed bleached by the sun. “That’s how I know that Cooper and I are meant for each other.” She placed a slender gloved hand over her heart. “Of course, it helps that he’s mad about me and I’m mad about him.”
I stopped suddenly, causing an old man in a worn brown suit that smelled of pipe smoke to stumble into me. He said something under his breath as he walked past, but I was too focused on Caroline’s perfect face to care. “Then why didn’t you come? The moment you knew Cooper was here, you could have come. But you waited.”
Her face seemed carved from marble, her skin bloodless. I knew her answer before she spoke, by the way she hesitated and didn’t meet my eyes. “Because your letter said that . . .” She stopped. “Because there was a chance he might lose his leg, and I didn’t think I could stand to see him that way. See him as . . . less than a man.”
I stared at her dumbly, unable to think of a single word to respond.
She tugged on my arm and we continued our walk back the way we’d come. “His mother doesn’t travel, but she asked me to come. I had already packed my bags and was preparing for the journey when your second letter arrived, letting us know that his leg had been saved. So, you see, I was prepared to come regardless.”
Because his mother asked you to. It was pointless to argue the obvious, so I kept my mouth shut. None of this was any of my business. Captain Ravenel was a patient of mine. A patient whose leg had been saved and who would be out of my life forever in a few short weeks.
We’d reached the front of the hospital again and stopped. I quickly slipped my arm from hers. “Why are you telling me all this?”
She smiled like a patient mother with a wayward child. “Because I don’t want you to be hurt. I see the way you look at Cooper and I just want to make sure you understand that you’re not his kind. He’s grateful to you for helping to save his leg, and might even think he’s a little in love with you because of it, but that won’t last. As soon as he is back in Charleston, everything will return to normal and he’ll forget all about you. I just wanted you to know that.”
I felt the blood rush to my face. “I think you’ve misunderstood, Miss Middleton.”
“Have I?” She smiled brightly, and I noticed that she had a small chip in her front teeth. I was relieved, somehow, as if this slight imperfection were like a chink in her armor. As if any of this really mattered at all.
“I’m late,” I said, moving past her.
She caught my sleeve. “We’re getting married on November tenth, and I’ll be wearing his mother’s wedding veil. The engraved invitations have already been ordered.”
I pulled my arm away and hurriedly jerked the door open. I’d wanted to turn around and ask her why she hadn’t said that she loved him and that he loved her, but I hadn’t. I hadn’t because I was afraid that the emotion coursing through me wasn’t disbelief, but hope.
I sat at Dr. Greeley’s desk with bleary eyes, my cravings for a cigarette reaching mythic proportions. My father had been a heavy smoker, and although nobody had ever said it was linked to his death from lung cancer, I wasn’t completely convinced it hadn’t been. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t crave them.
Dr. Greeley was, presumably, at home in his comfortable bed, finally giving me an entire evening where I didn’t have to creep around corners or tiptoe down hallways. He’d left a stack of charts and reports for me, enough to ensure that I wouldn’t get any sleep. I rubbed my face, eyeing the full ashtray on the corner of the desk, then picked it up and dumped it into the trashcan.
My head had been throbbing ever since my confrontation with Caroline Middleton. It had taken nearly an hour before my shock and embarrassment had turned into righteous anger. How dare she? How presumptuous of her. I was a doctor. It was expected that a certain level of intimacy would form between a doctor and a patient. It was unavoidable. But I was always a professional first. A healer. Not a woman so desperate for a husband that I would steal another woman’s fiancé. I certainly hadn’t gone to medical school to find a husband. I ground the heels of my hands into my throbbing temples, wishing I’d thought to grab a couple of aspirin before holing myself up in the airless office.