"I did my best to avoid notice, but somehow, one of the teachers got wind that one of the women attending his classes aspired to become a physician. He started the next lecture by asking me to come down into the theater and join him on the podium, under the pretext of congratulating me. I had so little support, and I was so naive, I didn't get suspicious."
"Admire, gentlemen, the refinement with which the Devil sometimes commits his worst crimes! See how he conceals the worst transgressions under an image of gentility and innocence!... This woman you see here dares to think herself worthy of the noble art of medicine!" A chorus of hateful exclamations and boos echoed through the lecture hall. Petrified with shock, Michaela barely managed to turn away and leave the auditorium.
"I ran away. I felt so humiliated that I almost gave up everything...I even announced to Father that perhaps it would be better for everyone that I just trained as a nurse, so that I could still work alongside him..."
Sully was wracked with impotent rage as he heard Michaela's account of her younger years. He now realized that the contemptuous attitude, revolting as it had been, of those doctors towards her at the medical conferences he'd attended when he'd gone to find her ten months earlier, paled in comparison to the ostracism she'd experienced as a younger woman. And he admired her tenacity and courage all the more. He brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss on the hand that sported her diamond engagement ring, as a sign of admiration as much as encouragement.
"But you went on and got your degree," he prompted.
"It wasn't easy. For one thing, I couldn't finish the year and get my certificate. I had to wait three years for another college to accept me, on the condition that I start all over again. I don't think I would have taken the risk of this happening again if it hadn't been for the opening of the first women's medical school in Philadelphia that same year. I was once again hopeful that my dream would come true. And I hoped that if there were more of us, I wouldn't have to put up with such... extreme reactions. That I would soon no longer be at best a curiosity, at worst a fallen woman..."
She sighed, lowering her eyes. Sully waited: he dreaded further disturbing revelations but remained convinced that Michaela needed to confide in him, to purge herself of the poison of her memories.
It took Michaela a few moments to gather her courage and finish her story.
"Insofar as we were all women, in college there was no segregation like in high school. And most of the professors, all men, certainly taught us out of a genuine desire to educate us rather than let us run amok with dirty knives and knitting needles, but many had a rather condescending, even infantilizing attitude. As for practice, apart from hospices and asylums, no establishment wanted female interns."
"Way I see it, they were just willin' to teach you so you'd take care of patients they wouldn't look after."
"Unfortunately, yes..., the poorest of them, Negroes, immigrants... And how many of them refused our care, demanding a real doctor, a man, preferring to be butchered by a careless surgeon and left to die of an infection that could have been easily prevented rather than to be examined and diagnosed by a woman!"
Michaela shuddered with indignation at the persistent prejudice against her colleagues. Lost momentarily in her reminiscences, she stared unseeing at Sully, her gaze clouded with anger.
"I know," said Sully, his voice little more than a whisper. Michaela realized she was digressing. Of course, Sully already knew all this. Of course, he understood how hurt she'd been to feel denied in her calling, her very essence, by society and even by her own family. He had always had such an unshakeable faith in her skills, as if her gender had never had any bearing on her ability to heal in Sully's eyes. Only three men in her life had ever spontaneously granted her this one favor. Her father. William Burke – although four weeks were hardly long enough to truly assess a man's sincerity. And Sully, who had given her enough support in the three years they'd known each other to buoy her the rest of her life.
David, meanwhile, had been occasionally dubious, even disdainful, when they had worked together at Boston General. Of course, it was subtle, barely perceptible, but she knew her father had noticed, and had become wary of his daughter's suitor. Michaela, for her part, had been afraid to confront David and demand more professional consideration from him, for fear of losing what was probably her only chance at getting married and starting a family. She dreaded remaining an old maid and forever enduring the taunts of Maureen, Claudette, and Marjorie.
Whenever Josef Quinn had to contradict or mollify her, he always did it on purpose; she could not remember a single occurrence when his criticism had not been entirely justified. He had treated her like any other student, with patience and uncommon flair for teaching. And it was because he had been utterly irreplaceable within the hospital, both as a gifted surgeon with unheard-of rates of survival to his record and as a valued teacher, and because many of his colleagues feared his wrath, that she had escaped what had been the fate of many of her colleagues.
"What I want you to understand, Sully, is that female medical students and doctors not only have to deal with insults, mockery, and systematic challenging of their abilities, but also constant blatant slurs concerning their morality. We were accused of the worst evils, mainly of being abortionists, but also of being... Messalinas in white coats. It is deemed as unbecoming a proper woman to concern herself with the human anatomy and bodily functions, outside of childbirth. Because of this, female physicians are considered wanton creatures. And some men, whether doctors, administrators, or even ambulance workers… take advantage of this. Not to mention some male patients!"
Sully felt a cold sweat run down his spine. Michaela did not need to elaborate. The very idea that one of these scoundrels – perhaps even several – had forced themselves upon Michaela was enough to make him retch with murderous fury. Was this the explanation for her rebuffs, sometimes in spite of herself? He had assumed that her prudery stemmed from simply a lack of experience and her uneasiness when faced with what she could not control – like her own desire. But now, he was not so sure...
"Are you tellin' me… they hurt ya?" It escaped him, and he would have cursed himself had Michaela not shaken her head and smiled at him, albeit bitterly.
"No. I was lucky enough to be protected by my father's influence, both during my internship and at the hospital. No one would have dared to accost me too directly: Father would have ruined their reputations or found a way to put them out of business. But that didn't stop glances, knowing smiles and…inappropriate touches whenever Father's back was turned. Those of us who complained were ridiculed for reaping what we had sowed". Seeing Sully's look harden further with implacable anger, she knew she had to wrap things up quickly and remind him that it was all history, where she was concerned, at least.
"I should have told you earlier... if in the past I may have seemed distant or indifferent..."
"Hush," he interrupted her. "I get it..."
"Let me finish, please," she implored.
"Sorry."
"Don't be. I'm the one who owes you an apology."
"What? No! Told ya, you don't owe me anythin'."
"At least I owe you the truth. And I need to apologize because I doubted you. I doubted your intentions, when you never stopped proving to me that you were – that you are the most honorable man I've ever met."
"Oh, 'Chaela. I should have... I don't know... been more patient, give you more space... let you come to me on your own terms, instead of pushin' you."
"But you didn't know! How could you have guessed that when we first became involved with each other, I sometimes wondered if you really loved me or if you saw me as an easy conquest, or worse..."
"I'd never think such a thing of you," he assured. "I love you, Michaela. Just the way you are. You ain't just the most beautiful woman I've ever met, but also the most intelligent, the most generous, the most... unbelievable! And you love me, too, and that…" He could not go on, bereft of appropriate words to convey just how precious her love was to him.
He wanted to embrace her so tightly that he found it excruciatingly difficult to hold back, only managing for fear of startling her when she was so vulnerable from evoking those painful memories. Nonetheless, he opened his arms to her in such eloquent invitation she could not possibly refuse. She sighed with relief as she felt Sully's arms close around her. As long as he was by her side, she would remain safe.
It was she who sought his lips, shyly, a trifle hesitantly, even though she was determined to prove that it was not him she was afraid of. They remained entwined for several minutes. Sully was determined not to rush her and to let her set the pace; meanwhile, Michaela tried to recapture the spark that had ignited in her and the sensation of warmth that had spread through her entire body a little earlier. She let herself fall back onto the bedspread, taking him with her, torn between the need to abandon herself once again to the blissful dizziness of a deep, intensely carnal kiss, while Sully's hands roamed all over her, and the fear of not being able to satisfy him in return, ignorant as she was of the realities of pleasuring a man. Who could she turn to for advice? Certainly not her mother! Rebecca, perhaps… and Dorothy, without a doubt.
Sully was once more unsure about what he should do: Michaela seemed to be surrendering herself to him, yet he sensed a lingering reluctance, which was hardly surprising in the light of what she had just told him. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any obligation to offer herself – and likewise, her virginity – to him before she was absolutely ready for it. Clearly, the legality of their union weighted heavily in the balance as well. And if need be…
"You just say the word, and I'll get the Reverend to marry us, right here, right now."
"That wouldn't be reasonable… we've waited this long…
"We would just be elopin' three weeks early. No big deal."
"But how would it look for you to be barging into the schoolroom in the middle of a lesson, asking the Reverend to marry us today?"
"I know a coupla kids who'd jump through the roof with happiness..."
Michaela could not help but laugh with him. Indeed, Colleen and Brian had been looking forward to their wedding probably even longer than they had themselves – Brian practically since he had sensed there was more than friendship between his adoptive mother and his hero.
"I reckon it wouldn't be too smart to ignore the signs Cloud Dancin' received. I dunno 'bout you, but if getting' married on May twentieth is gonna bring us extra blessin's from the Spirits, I ain't gonna argue."
"You're right," she sighed, torn between disappointment and, still, a touch of relief. Was she truly ready to give herself to him? A few moments earlier, she had been certain of it. Or had she wanted to prove to herself that it was simply the fear of disappointing him that was holding her back, and not propriety? Propriety which now demanded that she tear herself from Sully's arms and readjust her clothes in some degree of propriety.
The moment of grace had passed. Although disappointed, Sully told himself that waiting for their wedding night, as planned, was the best thing to do. More than anything, he wanted their first time together to be a memorable experience, and to do that, he had to make sure she was completely at ease. They would need time and a kind of privacy the recovery rooms did not afford... What about the new homestead? Plenty of nice and quiet in there, the voice of temptation whispered wickedly in his mind. No. It really would not do. Had Michaela already been with a man, he would have had no qualms about making off with her for an impromptu tryst, at the new house or under one of his lean-tos in the woods. But now more than ever, he realized the challenge that lay ahead, and he was not entirely sure he was ready himself. The slightest misstep, too much haste, and Michaela might balk, shutting him out, for who knew how long. He might as well put the remaining three weeks to good use to strengthen his endurance and concentration. For a moment, he imagined himself as a warrior besieging a fortress, but, contrary to the metaphor often used in literature, the fortress in question was not a woman's heart. Michaela's heart already belonged to him as did her hand. It was the ramparts holding the sensual part of her nature prisoner that had to be torn down. In other circumstances, the comparison would have made Sully smile, but the stakes remained serious.
"Guess we gotta be reasonable." He sighed one last time. "We'd better get back to work," he said, helping Michaela to her feet. However, he could not resist kissing her one last time, on the lips and neck, as the softness of her skin, her womanly scent, velvety and luscious, still pulled at him.
A silence ensued as his remark triggered the bittersweet memory of another day, the pain caused by Washita's massacre casting a dark veil over the golden light of that other moment stolen from the world's gaze and conventions, when they had professed their love to each other and kissed so passionately, right there on the brand-new wooden floor of their future home, the scent of fresh sap powerful and heady... Such a reminiscence managed to sober them up.
As a precaution, Sully refrained from kissing his fiancée when he finally took his leave. He merely gave her left hand a perfunctory peck and muttered a half-hearted "See you tomorrow," considering it wiser to let a night pass before seeing her again.
His ardor sufficiently doused to mount his horse without too much discomfort, he cantered away without looking back. Michaela understood this and went back inside once he had disappeared from her view. She then proceeded to sort through her pots, jars and bottles, directing all her energy and concentration to the tasks she had set herself. Nothing better than a thorough inventory to keep one's thoughts from wandering!
THE END
Author's note: This piece wasn't planned at all, neither when I began the Missing Enthusiasm a decade ago, nor a month ago when I decided I wanted, no, NEEDED, to finish the whole thing. For the past weeks, I've been going through every tiny bit of draft I could find, and re-read messages exchanged with friends over the years about the things that deserved me poking my nose into, and plot holes or episodes fillers fellow writers have already covered better than anything I could ever come up with. I ended up planning six more (A New Balance isn't included in the new bunch, as it has been in limbo for nearly six years).
At first, I was quite happy with the synopses and thought it was a writing project that would be simple enough to complete, less demanding than a novel, not to mention a trilogy. My failure to work through "Love or Duty" (a crossover Dr Quinn/Lady's Chatterley's Lover) hit me hard, and I needed to get into a project that could restore my self-confidence as a storyteller. Still, something felt odd. Not quite missing, but rather unbalanced. It took me a few days to figure it out. That's how I came up with this story.
For as long as I remember, I had wanted to do a piece about the treatment of women physicians in the American public opinion of the mid-nineteenth century, and how it may have been one of the roots of Michaela's fears and misconceptions about sex and morality. I used Sully to voice my initial questioning, upon watching the series the first time, regarding the inconsistency between her prudishness and her overall assertive personality. Somehow it never made it to NIWS, and when I did "Of Wifely Duties", which would have provided the perfect opportunity to address this particular issue – I plumb forgot!
Since I mention a couple of times that the lovebirds have faced a few temptations along their way to the altar, I thought that getting them to once more put a toe across the line could be a good excuse to spark a conversation between them, convo that could not have happened in "Fugitive Lovers" (too soon, too much urgency…). I scoured the third season for what would be the best slot to wedge such a story into and asked my friends on the Fanfictions Enthusiasts group on Facebook their opinions. I was pleased to find that my first idea – right after "Ready or Not" – came out as the most favored option by readers, far ahead of "Ladies' Night", "Pike's Peace", and "What is Love". As I wrote, it soon became evident that *it* was the perfect opportunity for Michaela to open up…
To conclude this rather long footnote, an anecdote I hope will make you smile: the first 1500 words I wrote were fast becoming so tantalizing and sizzling that I had to stop everything and start over, otherwise the characters would have made love against my keyboard's will.
Feel free to express your honest opinions, your objections or suggestions of improvement for the next stories, thank you!