Chapter 3 – Making a Friend.
Dr Cullen wasn't there in the morning. It was Sister Helen who came into my room and gave me more morphine and then breakfast, and helped me wash. I chafed against the indignity of having to have someone help me with private things, but with a heavy plaster case encasing my leg from my thigh to my toes I had little choice. Sister Helen chatted away to me in an effort to ease my embarrassment, which was kind of her, and she even made me laugh with some little jokes. At least the breakfast was good and I ate it with a hearty appetite.
Mother arrived mid-morning, bringing with her a basket of food from home and books for me, as well as a bundle of clothing and the scent of the farm. It made me unexpectedly homesick for a moment, and I hugged her tightly as she bent over to kiss me.
"Hello darling, how are you?" Mother peered closely at my face. "You look very pale. Did you sleep well? Does it hurt very much now?"
I shrugged. "It hurts, but they've been giving me pain killing injections to help." I showed her the bruises on my thigh as she murmured in sympathy. "I slept okay."
I didn't tell her about Dr Cullen spending so much time talking with me. I didn't think she would like it that I spent time alone with a man while I was in bed in my nightie! But it was a hospital and he was a doctor, and I had liked him so much. I didn't want to risk her forbidding something that was completely innocent. I knew that she often questioned my judgement, but I was as sure as I'd ever been that the beautiful doctor was a good man who meant no harm.
Mother lifted her packages up onto the chair beside my bed. "I've bought you some clothes," she began, quickly bundling them in the cupboard by the door. "Some nightgowns and under things and a cardigan to keep you warm. I've bought in some of Father's socks for you, I thought they might be big enough to stretch over the plaster and keep your toes warm."
She draped the pink knitted cardigan over my shoulders, and I obligingly slid my arms into the sleeves, wincing as even that slight movement jarred my leg. I wished the nurse would appear with another syringe full of painkilling drugs, and then shook my head at the incongruity of me wishing for an injection!
"I've bought some books for you too. Your schoolbooks, and Melanie gave me a bundle of novels she said you'd like. She sends you her love by the way." Mother stacked the books on the bedside table and then added the pink and green floral patchwork bag that held my knitting, talking all the while. "I've put in your knitting too. You should be able to get a nice lot of things made up for the Ladies Auxiliary while you're bedbound. We're running short on winter hats and vests for children and the pattern for those are simple and you'll be able to make them up fairly quickly. Isn't it fortunate that you didn't break your arm?"
I held in a laugh. I didn't mind knitting, but the idea of spending hours working up tedious patterns for the Ladies Auxiliary didn't sound very exciting. I was glad that Mother had bought my schoolbooks too, although it made me depressed to realise that I was going to miss school for the months it took my leg to heal.
"How long will I have to stay in hospital?" I asked, a little despondently.
"Hopefully not too long," Mother answered. "You won't be able to get up for several months, but I can look after you at home as soon as they allow us to move you. That lovely doctor said it should be quite soon, he thought that once the bruising and swelling in your leg go down you won't be in terrible discomfort and you'll heal well. He looks so young! I wasn't sure of him when we first bought you in, I thought perhaps we would be better with someone more experienced, but he does have a way about him. He quite settled my nerves when I talked to him after your operation…"
Mother talked on, and I rested against the pillows as I listened. My leg ached and throbbed, and I was relieved when the nurse appeared with my lunch and some more drugs. After the drugs entered my system I wasn't hungry, and I only ate a little of my lunch and part of a cookie that my mother had bought in before I lay back and closed my eyes. Mother kissed my forehead and promised to be back tomorrow, but before I could even say goodbye the waves of sleep washed over me and I was gone.
I slept until they woke me for supper. The soup wasn't as good as what my mother could make, but I ate it anyway and finished off with a handful of the cookies Mother had brought in from home, nibbling at them slowly as I read my school history book.
"Good evening Esme."
I jumped with surprise as I looked up to see Dr Cullen standing beside my bed. How could he move so soundlessly? But the same delicious scent of mown hay and clover seemed to drift past my nose and I smiled up at him, caught up in the lovely and unique amber colour of his eyes.
"Hello!"
"History?" Dr Cullen reached towards the book. "May I?"
"Of course." I handed it over to him, hastily brushing off the cookie crumbs. "Would you like a cookie?" I asked, remembering my manners. "My mother made them and she's a very good cook."
Dr Cullen smiled. "No thank you, although they do look delicious." He flipped through my book. "Has your mother taught you all her cooking secrets then?"
"Well, she has tried," I said, a little doubtfully. "I'm very good with puddings! But I have a bad habit of getting distracted and making silly mistakes."
Dr Cullen was laughing. "Distracted with what? Climbing trees?"
"Sometimes," I admitted. "Books, mostly. Sometimes drawing too, especially if I'm trying to draw something that keeps moving away, like the cats!"
"Is this your history text for school?" Dr Cullen asked.
I nodded as he handed it back to me. "It's my second favourite subject, after Art. My teacher isn't so good at drawing but he loves history, so we study that a lot more."
"Where do you go to school? I suppose you're too far out of town to attend the schools here."
"Yes. I go to the local school," I tell him. "I've been going there since I was four and I'm one of the oldest now."
"I thought you must be nearly finished at the local school. Do you have any plans for the future? What would you like to do?"
I hesitated. "I would like to be teacher myself. I love reading and learning, and I'm very good at explaining things to the little ones at school. I help them with their lessons quite often, so I know I'd be able to do a good job teaching. Mr Sanderson asked me to study for the college entrance exam and if I went there I could become a properly qualified teacher, but my parents are not…they don't really…" I stopped.
Dr Cullen nodded understandingly. "I bought you something that might keep you amused a little while you're in bed," he said, tactfully changing the subject. He bent down and retrieved a large, heavy book from his bag and placed it gently on my lap. "I thought you might be interested."
I opened the leather cover and leafed through the pages of the beautifully bound book, astonished at the exquisite sketches and painted pictures inside. "This is amazing! Who did this?" I turned back to the front, but there was no name on the cover or the flyleaf.
"They're copies of some of the great masters' paintings and sketches," Dr Cullen said, watching my reaction with evident enjoyment. "Done to a much smaller scale of course! The text on the opposite page gives some details of the art and the original artist. I thought it might be something for you too look at, until you are able to go to Europe and see the originals for yourself!"
I laughed in delight. "Oh, it's wonderful! I can't believe that someone was able to do this…how did you find it?"
"It was sent to me by one of my acquaintances in Italy. He has some artistic talent of his own, as well as being very skilled at copying others. He and I used to spend a lot of time talking about art…he was much older than I and had seen a great deal." Dr Cullen had an enigmatic smile on his face as he spoke. "But that doesn't matter. The book has been lying around my house for years, so I thought it would be better to give it to someone who would enjoy it."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly take this," I protested, at the same time as my hands curled possessively around the edges of the cover. "It's too much. I don't think Mother and Father would think it was appropriate."
"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to be inappropriate," Dr Cullen laughed. "Shall we call it a loan then?"
"I won't argue with that." I beamed at him, before my eyes were drawn irresistibly back to the beautiful paintings and drawings before me. I had never seen so much extraordinary artwork in one place, and I knew a book like that must be worth a small fortune. "It's so funny," I said absently, my eyes tracing the lines of an intricately copied picture. "It makes me almost despair that I'll ever be even half as good as this. At the same time I want to just grab my sketchbook and practise and practise until I improve!"
"I think great art should inspire," Dr Cullen said. "Perhaps this book will do that for you. But I must go and check on my other patients now. Don't stay up too late reading, you need your rest!"
Despite lying in bed all day I actually did feel tired, but I was so fascinated by the art book that I couldn't stop looking at it, and when I finally fell asleep I did so with the book open on my lap.
My days in hospital continued very much like the first one. After the first few days my leg didn't even hurt very much, and although I disliked being continuously indoors and immobile I quite enjoyed all the time to read and draw. I also liked getting to know the nurses and hearing all the hospital news. Living out on the farm meant that my social circle were all well known to me, and it was fascinating to meet some new people and get to know them and hear about their lives here in town.
Actually, my time in hospital, once the initial pain had ended, was so interesting that I even considered changing my ambitions from teaching to nursing. I spent some hours daydreaming about being capable and efficient as I moved briskly about a hospital in my starched uniform, but then reality caught up with me and I had to admit that I was neither capable nor efficient. Besides, I thought perhaps I wouldn't like all the bedpans and really I'd much rather read books than poke people with needles.
Mother came in for visiting hours most days, occasionally with Father, and even Melanie came one day, bringing me a new book and some raspberry jam that I kept guiltily eating with a spoon when no one was looking.
Best of all were the evenings though, when Dr Cullen came on duty. Some nights he was busy and couldn't stay and talk, but he always came by with a smile and a word. Other nights the hospital was quiet and he sat in the chair beside my bed and talked with me about all kinds of things, like art and architecture, and some of his travels. I had never known anyone like him before, and I couldn't believe that someone so educated and cultured could be enjoying the company of a country girl like myself. And yet he willingly sat and talked with me, interested in my opinions and all I had to say. He was never inappropriate, and every evening that I spent talking to him I found myself liking and respecting him more. As the day approached that I was due to be released from hospital, I became a little quiet and despondent at the thought of never seeing him again.
"What's wrong Esme?" Dr Cullen asked. "You seem very quiet tonight."
"I'm going home tomorrow," I told him.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy getting back home to the farm," he said lightly. "You've mentioned that you prefer your mother's cooking to that of the hospital cook!"
I giggle. "That's true." My laugh faded. "But…I'll miss you." I dropped my eyes, slightly ashamed of being so bold. "I've enjoyed talking to you so much."
"I've enjoyed it too," Dr Cullen said. "But even if you stayed in hospital I wouldn't be here much longer. Dr Trask will be back and I have a new job waiting for me in Minnesota. I'll be moving on soon."
"Oh." I felt an unaccountably sharp stab of disappointment. It wasn't as though I would have been seeing Dr Cullen again even if stayed at the hospital – assuming I didn't fall out of any more trees, that is – but even so I didn't want him moving hundreds of miles away!
"That's quite far," I ventured a moment later.
"Not so far, for me," he answered, looking at me thoughtfully. "I've never really found a place to settle down."
"Well, you know I'd like a chance to see more," I said. "But I like home at the same time, and I'll be glad to be back."
"I'm sure your parents will be glad to have you back. You'll be nearer your friends too, and they'll be able to come and visit you. More visitors will make being kept in bed more interesting."
"It's pretty interesting here in the hospital," I said truthfully. "I've made friends with the nurses and with…well, you I suppose." I laughed self-consciously, hoping I didn't sound too serious.
"I've enjoyed getting to know you too Esme," Dr Cullen said with a smile. "It's been a pleasure to talk with you."
"Thank you. You've been so nice to me."
"You know what you can do for me in return?" Dr Cullen asked, his voice light. "Live a long and happy life Esme. That's what I want for you…a long and happy life."
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A/N – I just have to say that Esme and Carlisle are adorable together!
In these chapters I wanted to write their relatively brief meeting and look at the impression they each made on each other. It's said that Esme remembered Carlisle and thought about him in between this first meeting and when he changed her, and I think she must have made an impression on him too. I don't imagine he thought about her in any romantic way, since she would have been barely more than a child to him, but I think he found her different to most of his patients and that he enjoyed her company. I hope people are enjoying reading about them as much as I am loving writing about them.
