talk about it. It’s sort of unkind, don’t you think?”
Sally grinned. “He has it coming. You know perfectly well he’s been
chasing everyone in sight ever since he got here. The perfect redhead,
disposition and all.”
Jean shook her head. “I think Eileen’s right,” she said.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Sally cried. “Now all at once Dr. Benson is
perfectly okay, and we aren’t to betray his confidences.”
Eileen smiled. “He’s stupid in lots of ways. But he is a good doctor,
and he’s awfully young, after all. Maybe he’s never been away from home
before.”
Sally shrugged. “Well, if you feel so tenderly towards him, why don’t
you go out with him, yourself?”
Eileen chuckled. “Never! He’s not my type, in the first place.”
Jean laughed and put down her coke bottle. “I’m on duty, so I’d better
get back to work. I’m glad you had such a lovely time, Lucy.” She
stretched and yawned. “Well, so long, gang,” she said.
She hurried down the hall of the second floor to look at the call
sheet. Each day after lunch, the students were assigned to special
duties for the day, and Jean wanted to check on her assignment. She
frowned as she saw her name opposite that of Dr. Benson. Then she
grinned sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders. As long as he was on
duty, Dr. Benson would be professional and mannerly. Jean determined
that she would be as pleasant as she could be to the young man.
Dr. Benson was making routine checks in the contagious ward when Jean
found him. He seemed very grave as he examined his patients. Jean noted
with satisfaction that he made very thorough checks on each one. He
didn’t even seem to notice Jean as he worked. Quietly and efficiently
she followed him from patient to patient, making notes on each chart.
“Well, that’s that,” Dr. Benson finally said as he finished examining
his last patient. “Thanks, gorgeous.”
Jean smiled in spite of herself. “Anything else, Doctor?” she asked.
Dr. Benson ran his fingers through his red hair. “I guess not. Not
now, anyway. But tell me something, beautiful? How did I make out with
Lucy last night?”
Jean blushed and looked up at him questioningly. “I don’t have any
idea,” she asked. “Why?”
Dr. Benson grinned wryly. Jean noticed that he had a dimple near his
mouth. “That’s not a straight answer, and you know it, Miss Craig,” he
said. “I know I was up for discussion today. Well, did you all approve
of my technique?”
Jean instantly felt a warm surge of feeling for the doctor. He was
actually pathetic. He sensed her reaction and waved his hand as if to
brush it off.
“Forget it,” he said brusquely. “My ears are still burning from a
dressing down I got this morning from Dr. Barsch. I’m still shaky on
making out reports. Well, we all have to learn....” His voice trailed
off, and he grinned. “What’s new with the boy friend, cutie?” he asked.
“Ralph’s fine,” Jean answered. “He’ll be back next week.”
“I wonder if he knows what a lucky guy he is,” Dr. Benson said. “To
have a girl waiting for him ... you know, having someone he cares for
thinking so much of him. Oh well, skip it. This is just a bad day.”
“I know how to make out reports,” Jean said. “Let me help you with
yours.”
Dr. Benson stared at her. “You want to help me after the way I’ve
acted towards you? The other nurses treat me as if I were poison!”
Dr. Barsch came down the hall. He smiled affectionately at Jean and
nodded to Dr. Benson.
“I’m sorry if I was a bit rough this morning, Doctor,” he said gravely.
“Sometimes I forget how complicated these reports can be till one
becomes used to them.”
Dr. Benson actually blushed. “It was my fault, sir,” he admitted, “and
I had it coming. Miss Craig has promised to help me with my next batch.”
“Good. Good,” Dr. Barsch said. “Our great trouble around here is that
we’re too busy to teach routine. Well, a bright boy like you shouldn’t
have any trouble.”
“Thank you, sir,” Dr. Benson said. “I’ll try to live up to my notices.”
“I’m sure you will, son,” Dr. Barsch said, clapping his hand on the
boy’s shoulder. Then he smiled and walked off.
Dr. Benson pounded his fist into his hand. “That’s right,” he muttered.
“Makes me feel like a heel!”
“Oh, no!” Jean cried, “he didn’t mean to! Dr. Barsch is a very
considerate man!”
Dr. Benson shrugged and turned away. “I can’t figure out this deal at
all. People just aren’t as considerate as everyone here seems to be. I
know. I’ve been around.”
“You sound so tough,” Jean giggled.
“Well, I found out a long time ago there’s only one thing that really
is interested in you ... as long as you have it. And that’s the dollar.
People? Huh, they’re interested in you when you’ve got it. And I’m
going to get it!”
Jean nodded and said, “And that’s why you’re living on sixty dollars a
month as an intern now.”
“It’ll pay off,” the young doctor said.
Jean grinned in spite of herself. “A man with your intelligence could
make a fortune quickly in business ... real estate, for example. But of
course you chose medicine, and now you’re going to tell me you have to
pay back your parents’ financial investment by going through with it.”
Dr. Benson set his jaw. “My parents! That’s a laugh. I’ll tell you a
secret, Miss Craig. My fairy godmother sent me through school.”
Jean looked at him in amazement. “I don’t understand,” she said.
Dr. Benson smiled bitterly. “I think you do. You all do. I’m not good
enough for you and your friends to date. I am the bright young boy
from the other side of the tracks, didn’t you know? I’m the guy who
sent himself through school. Why, I was out on the streets of New York
peddling papers, shining shoes ... doing anything I could to support my
parents, when I was just a kid.”
Jean gasped. “Really, none of us knew. We didn’t have any idea...!” she
cried. “You were just so ... so fresh!”
Dr. Benson sighed. “Okay,” he said. “Skip it.”
“It really was awful of you to take Lucy out and talk all evening about
me,” Jean said softly.
“I suppose I should have talked about what I really was interested in.
Then you all could have had a real laugh!”
Jean frowned. “Now listen, Dr. Benson,” she said coldly, “I think
you’ve got things completely mixed up. If you weren’t so busy feeling
sorry for yourself, you might have noticed what we really are like
here.”
The doctor set his jaw and mimicked her voice as he said, “All right,
what are we all like here?”
Jean resisted the impulse to walk away from him and said, “I suppose
you realize that you’re not the only one who’s had trouble in the past.
Miss Simpson ... I mean, Mrs. Loring ... was raised in an orphanage,
you know. And her husband, Ted, is probably one of the most popular men
in the community today. He put himself through school. Only he never
thought it was any disgrace to make his own way.”
“And you? What about you and your fine family? You wouldn’t give me a
tumble,” Dr. Benson said.
“If it were any of your business, I could tell you how we managed to
stay together without any money after the war. And of course I won’t
date you when I’m engaged to someone else. Now forget this nonsense.
We’d all like you if you’d give us the chance.”
Dr. Benson grinned sheepishly. “I really blew off,” he admitted. “I
shouldn’t have bothered you.”
Jean smiled. “I’m glad you did. At least I know now why you seemed to
be so ... so....”
“So terrible. Okay, beautiful. Let’s get back to work. And listen, what
I’ve said is just between you and me. It’s no one else’s business.”
Jean grinned despairingly. Just when Dr. Benson seemed to let his guard
drop, he picked it up again. But now, at least, she felt confident that
he would discover how to make friends at the clinic.
7. Ralph Returns from Europe
Ralph flew back from Europe the first week in May. His plane landed at
Boston, and he caught the first train for Elmhurst. The day after he
left Bergen, Norway, he appeared at the Craigs’ front door.
Jean was waiting for him on the front porch when his taxi pulled up
before the house. She tore down the steps as he opened the car door,
and he jumped out and caught her in his arms. For several minutes
neither said a word.
“Oh, Jeannie,” Ralph muttered, holding her close to him. “Jeannie, my
darling!”
Jean burrowed her face against his coat and murmured. “Ralph, it’s been
_so_ long!”
He held her away from him. “Let me look at you,” he said tenderly.
“Gee, if anything, you’re more beautiful than ever!”
She crept close to him again. “Don’t let me go,” she pleaded lightly.
“I’m going to stay right here for the rest of my life!”
He stroked her dark curls. “You won’t find me difficult to deal with on
_that_ score,” he laughed. Then he became serious. “I’m not going away
from you ever again, Jeannie. It isn’t worth it. Everywhere I went,
everything I did, I kept wishing that you were with me to share it all.
Jeannie, you’re with me now, and you’re here to stay!”
“That’s right.”
Arm in arm they walked up to the house. “How is Jack?” Ralph asked as
they entered the front hall. “I was beside myself with worry when you
wrote about him.”
“I’m fine,” Jack called from the front parlor. Ralph dashed into the
parlor where the family was waiting for him.
“Welcome home, son,” Mrs. Craig said, embracing him. “We all missed you
very much.”
Doris threw her arms around Ralph’s neck and kissed him. “Jean’s been
nearly wild waiting for you,” she cried.
“Oh, Doris!” Jean cried.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you aren’t going to be coy when you’re engaged
to the man?” Doris said. “We were _all_ wild waiting for you!”
“Good to see you again,” Tommy said, holding out his hand.
Ralph grabbed the hand and tousled Tommy’s hair. “Hi, Tom. It’s great
to be back.” Then he went over to the couch and knelt down beside Jack.
“Hi, old-timer,” he said, taking Jack’s hand. “I hear you’ve been into
mischief since I last saw you. How are you feeling?”
“Just swell,” Jack said. “I’m getting lazy. How do you like my deal?
Everyone waits on me. I don’t have to do any chores. Whatta life!”
Ralph made a swipe at Jack’s chin with his fist. “Yep, some life,” he
agreed. “You and I have a lot of hours to spend together. I’ve got a
lot to tell you.”
Mrs. Craig brought in a tray of food, and Doris set up a card table
near the couch.
“You must be hungry,” Mrs. Craig said as she arranged the table. “I’d
take you into the dining room, but Jack probably wants you in here with
him.”
Ralph slipped his arm around Mrs. Craig’s waist. “Why is it that
mothers always think people don’t eat while they travel?”
Mrs. Craig made a face at him and said, “Very well, I’ll just take this
right back to the kitchen.”
“Hey, hey,” Ralph said, snatching a cookie from the plate she picked
up. “I’ll eat everything in sight. I _am_ hungry!”
They all laughed, and Mrs. Craig poured out steaming cups of hot
chocolate for everyone. Jean propped Jack up on the couch so that he
could manage his cup.
“Now, then,” Mrs. Craig said, “tell us what you’ve been doing.”
Ralph stopped munching his cookie and looked at her. “Don’t tell me
Jeannie hasn’t kept you posted?”
They all roared. “We can practically recite your letters by heart,”
Doris teased.
“Not all of them, I hope,” Ralph protested.
“Aw, she always left out the mushy parts,” Jack said. “She just read
the _interesting_ things.”
Ralph chuckled and winked at Jack. “Well, I did run into one good story
that I didn’t write Jeannie about. Right in Bergen. I was working
with a boy quite a bit younger than myself. He was the leader of the
underground movement during the war. After Norway was occupied by the
Nazis, that is.”
“Oh, good heavens!” Mrs. Craig cried. “Those poor people!”
Ralph looked up at her thoughtfully and then said, “Well, I don’t pity
them. Not after what I’ve seen.”
“Why, Ralph!” Jean cried. “Whatever do you mean?”
Ralph smiled. “They don’t want our pity, Jeannie,” he said softly.
“They need our help and understanding, but not pity. I wish I could
honestly say I had the nerve that that boy had. I admire him, and I
admire them all.”
“I’ll bet he had some stories to tell,” Tommy said.
“He wasn’t much older than you, Tom, when the Nazis invaded,” Ralph
said. “And he went right into the Underground. Blew bridges and
railroad tracks and things like that.”
Mrs. Craig slipped her arm around Tommy’s shoulder protectively.
“Heavens!” she cried. “A child like Tommy?”
“They had quite an arsenal,” Ralph chuckled. “And you’ll never believe
where their headquarters were. In the basement of Gestapo Headquarters.
Two of their boys were accepted into the Gestapo. Not one message went
out of Gestapo Headquarters that the Underground didn’t know about.”
“Mercy!” Mrs. Craig cried. “It makes me tremble just to think about it.”
Ralph smiled. “You don’t need to be sorry for people who went through
a war that way. Now they’re working like beavers to build up their
disrupted country. Their schools are all open, their railroads are
working just fine. The country looks good, and the people ... they’re
wonderful.”
Jean shook her head. “But all of occupied Europe isn’t like that,
Ralph?”
“Some countries are further along than others, of course. Paris looked
pretty good to me. Of course, in the eastern countries ... well, I
didn’t get a chance to see for myself,” Ralph said. “But now I have an
idea of the job we farmers have on our hands. Jeannie and I are going
to be pretty busy.” He swallowed the rest of his hot chocolate. “I’m
going upstairs to unpack. I’ve got some things to give out.”
Tommy carried his bag upstairs, and Ralph ran up behind him. Mrs. Craig
smiled heavily. “He’s seen a great deal,” she said gravely. “I guess it
wouldn’t hurt any of us to see what Europe is like today.”
Ralph came bounding into the room, his arms full of packages. “Here we
are,” he announced. “Now, let’s see. Oh yes, this is for you, Mother
Craig,” he said, handing her a parcel. Mrs. Craig exclaimed as she
opened the package and found a Swedish linen dinner cloth. “It’s
magnificent!” she cried. “Ralph, this is too much!”
He kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad you like it, dear,” he answered.
For Tommy and Jack, Ralph had brought rucksacks from Bavaria, and for
Doris, Ralph had a music box from Dresden. Doris handled the delicate
instrument lovingly and turned it on. It played an air from _Don
Giovanni_.
“I couldn’t resist it when I heard it,” Ralph said. “I remembered how
fond you were of Mozart.”
“Oh, Ralph!” Doris cried, throwing her arms around his neck.
“This is for Kit,” Ralph said, pointing to a package. “Maybe you can
tuck it in her laundry case when you send it. It’s a Polish gypsy
outfit. I found it in Paris; I think it’s probably a Frenchman’s _idea_
of a Polish gypsy dress. But it looked so much like Kit that I had to
bring it along.”
He produced a chiming Swiss watch for Mr. Craig, and then he handed
Jean her package. Slowly she opened it. It was a set of earrings and
bracelet and pin.
“It’s not the real thing, Jeannie,” Ralph explained. “Costume jewelry,
I guess you call it. But it’s an exclusive Jacques Fath. I picked it up
in Paris.”
Jean sighed with delight as she fingered the filigreed pieces, “I’ve
never had anything so beautiful.”
“And French perfume for all the ladies,” Ralph announced, handing out
the tiny packages.
Everyone squealed and exclaimed over the dainty scents. Mrs. Craig
shook her head in mock resignation. “What am I going to do with you,
son? You spoil us all so.”
Ralph kissed her and grinned. “My family is a very special one. Oh,
here are a couple of gadgets for Aunt Becky and the Judge. Well, we can
see about them later.”
Mrs. Craig smiled tenderly at the young man. “Now, somehow, the family
seems almost whole again.”
8. Jean and Ralph Discuss Their Future
That evening, after dinner, Jean and Ralph slipped out of the house and
almost automatically headed down their favorite path to the banks of
the small river. They held hands as they walked. There was no need for
talk. Each felt warmly secure in the presence of the other.
Jean didn’t trust herself to speak until they had reached the river.
Every time she started to say something, the loneliness of the past
months welled up in her and tears came to her eyes. Then she would
clasp Ralph’s hand harder, as if to reassure herself that he had really
returned.
Ralph chuckled as they came to the river bank. “It’s really me,
darling,” he said softly. “I know how you feel, because I feel the same
way.”
Jean laid his hand against her cheek and let a few pent-up tears fall.
Ralph cupped her chin in his free hand and smiled at his beloved
tenderly.
“Tears for me?” he asked softly. “My little Jeannie, you mustn’t cry!”
Jean smiled and nodded. “It’s foolish to spoil your first evening at
home this way.” She shook her head as if to forbid further tears.
Ralph laughed. “It’s not spoiled. If anything, it’s enhanced. You know,
when you love someone as much as I love you, it’s hard to believe that
she can care so much for you. It’s wonderful to find out.”
She grinned. “But there’s so _much_ to talk about, Ralph! So much has
happened in the past two years which we have to talk about. Tears don’t
say anything!”
Ralph laughed again. “They say plenty, Jeannie. But if we must return
to the world of mundane facts, let’s hear about your past two years.”
She giggled. “So my activities seem dull to you,” she teased.
Ralph tousled her curly hair. “You’re a flirt, aren’t you? The feminine
mind can be _so_ illogical!”
Jean sat down under a tall maple tree. She leaned against Ralph’s
shoulder. “Now tell me,” she said. “Something happened while you were
abroad which is bothering you. I could see it in your eyes all the time
you were talking with the family.”
Ralph picked a blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “It’s
strange how one can be impressed by having a new light thrown on
something which he always knew but which never seemed important before.”
“Yes?” she asked.
“You know what my ranch in Saskatoon is like, don’t you, Jeannie? I
mean, you know what the land is like.”
“I know you have grain and some live stock....”
“And that a lot of my land isn’t cleared of forests as yet?”
She nodded.
Ralph drew his pipe from his coat pocket and lit it. “About once a year
I get a letter from the government asking me what I plan to do with my
uncut timber. I never paid much attention to it before. I liked having
the trees there. It was good for the soil. But I saw something in Paris
which has changed my mind completely.”
Jean looked at him in surprise. “What could happen in Paris that could
affect your forests?” she asked.
Ralph laughed. “This, my dear, is a good lesson in the size of the
world today. I live on an isolated Canadian ranch. But I have the
power, out there, to help or hinder businesses all over the world. That
timber I have should be cut and shipped to wood pulp manufacturers. But
let’s start at the beginning.”
Jean giggled. “That would help,” she admitted.
“You remember, I wrote you about attending the newspaper convention in
Paris last fall?”
Jean nodded.
“I wish you could have been there. Newspaper men from all over the
world, except from behind the Iron Curtain, attended it. It was
marvelous! Journalism professors from midwestern universities in the
United States rubbed shoulders and exchanged ideas with editors from
Iran and Tasmania. Believe me, it was a conference of tremendous
importance! I attended it, because I was in Paris to investigate crop
production of central France, and a friend of mine invited me to
attend.”
“You wrote something about the conference, I remember,” she said.
“Well, all these editors have the same complaint. There’s not enough
wood pulp in the world to furnish the newspapers with newsprint. In a
way, it’s wonderful, because that indicates that countries are printing
more papers. And that new countries are insisting on better and bigger
papers. Egypt, for example, has more newspapers than ever before.
And, of course, one of the first projects Israel, as a new country,
undertook was the establishing of fine papers.
“But we must have more wood pulp! As long as each of these countries,
large and small, can have their papers, this world is comparatively
safe. These papers can carry news ... facts of the world ... right to
the doors of all the people in the world. Then, the people themselves
can decide what is good and what is bad in this world.”
Jean sighed. “It sounds like a tremendous undertaking.”
“It is! And, Jeannie, if you could have seen those men! Arabians, who
have been literate for only a generation, were demanding free press
for their people. Mexicans pleaded for more newsprint to help educate
their people. The Israeli, of course, put the need for communications,
the need for stimulating the minds of their countrymen, above almost
everything else.”
Jean nodded. “Now I begin to see.”
Ralph threw away the blade of grass. “Of course I can’t do much with
the small forests I own. But I’ll do everything I can. When I get back
to Saskatoon, I’m going to start the largest project of timber cutting
and reforestation I can possibly undertake. You see, Jeannie, Canada
and Norway are practically the only countries in the world who can
produce wood pulp. If the job is up to us, then we’ve got to do it.”
Jean nodded solemnly. “Then that’s what you were doing in Norway,” she
said.
“Well, I had to go there, anyway, on business. But you can be sure that
I checked on the story of their wood pulp supply pretty carefully. It
isn’t too good. They do what they can. But Canada is so much larger and
has so many more forests.”
Jean suddenly giggled. “I’m intrigued with the idea of your being a
lumberjack.”
Ralph smiled. “I’ll be one; you’ll be one. The children will be
chopping timber as soon as they learn to crawl!”
She shook her head. “You know, dear,” she said, “we all have to
contribute to this life in the way we’re best equipped.”
Ralph nodded. “That’s true,” he agreed.
She smiled in spite of herself as she said, “I’ll be glad to buy
myself a pair of spiked hightop boots and become a lumberjack, if you
say so. But there is something else I can do better.”
“And that is?” he asked.
“I’m almost ashamed to tell you now,” Jean confessed, “because I’ll be
consuming paper rather than making it.”
Ralph chuckled. “That’s what it’s made for. Now, tell me.”
Jean told him of the plans which Dr. Barsch had made for her. How she
would take a correspondence course in art after they were married, and
how, when she finished her course, she would contract to do sketches of
operations at a nearby hospital for the medical publishers.
Ralph thought about the plan for a few minutes. “It’s a very good
idea,” he said gravely.
“You see, medicine and improved operative techniques are important,
too,” Jean said slyly.
Ralph chuckled. “I can’t deny you,” he grinned. “You know, there’s a
small hospital about five miles from the ranch. It’s a very good one,
and I know the board of directors there very well. I think they’d like
the idea. I’m sure we can arrange it.”
“Then you don’t mind my working after we’re married?” she asked.
Ralph shook his head. “One of the reasons I fell in love with you,
Jean, is that you seem to thrive on being busy. There’s something so
sturdy about you and your family. Take your father, for instance. I
saw a lot of men when they came out of the Army in bad shape. But I
never saw one who was more miserable because he couldn’t be working
from dawn to dusk every day.”
Jean sighed. “He’s like a different man now that he is working again.
Poor Dad! None of us even suspected how hard his invalid days were on
him till they were over.”
Ralph nodded. “You haven’t told me all the details of this new job,” he
said.
“Well, it’s very simple,” Jean explained. “You see, two years ago the
town decided to back a veterans’ housing project. Dad offered to be the
architect for the project. After years of inactivity, he was nearly out
of his mind. And of course he was terribly interested in anything to
help the young men and their families.”
“Of course,” Ralph said. “I remember that part. He was just starting
the assignment when I went abroad.”
“It’s taken two years to complete the project,” Jean said. “There were
some difficulties. A lot of people didn’t want low cost housing in
town. And then some ... well, I think they’re just plain bad people,
were afraid the project might attract new people to the community. You
know, minority groups and,” she giggled, “even non-New Englanders.”
“But the project did go through,” Ralph said.