So what? It was her reputation at stake. Embarrassed, angry, she headed down the hallway. He followed. When she stopped out of sight of the other nurses, he stepped in front of her. “You look ready to shoot me, Miss Waltert.”
“Why are you here?”
“Why do you think?”
“I have no idea!”
“I checked your schedule. You’re off on Friday. I’d like to take you to dinner and a movie.”
No one had ever asked her out, and the thought of this handsome young man, orderly or not, being interested in her seemed beyond comprehension. “I have no intention of being the brunt of someone’s idea of a joke.”
“Why would I joke about it?”
“No!”
“How do you know I’m not husband material unless you get to know me first?”
She blanched. “What did you say?”
“Boots said you wouldn’t go out with anyone unless he was husband material.”
“I’ll kill her.” Hildemara felt her face go hot. “And I’m supposed to believe you’re looking for a wife?”
“I never gave it much thought until two days ago, at 12:15 to be exact, when you walked into the cafeteria.”
Did he really think she’d believe such hogwash? “I’ll put out the word, Mr. Arundel. You’ll have women lined up and on their knees begging.”
He leaned so close that she could smell his aftershave. “Keep it to yourself. I’m not interested in anyone else. Dinner and a movie. I promise I won’t lay a finger on you, if that’s what worries you.” He raised his hand in solemn vow. “I swear I’m a gentleman.”
“If you aren’t, I have a big brother who’ll beat the living tar out of you.”
He laughed. “I take that as a yes. Friday. Six o’clock sharp.” He shoved the swinging doors open and walked through. “See you then.”
“Wait a minute!”
A patient buzzer went off. She pushed the doors open, but Cale had already gone into the stairwell. Frustrated, she hurried back down the hall. She’d only make matters worse by tracking him down in the hospital.
Boots! She’d tell her roommate to give him a message.
“Nothing doing.” Boots shook her head. “You want to break a date, you do it yourself.”
She watched for him in the cafeteria, hoping for a chance to tell him she’d changed her mind. She didn’t see him for the next three days. She comforted herself with the fact that he didn’t have her address. He couldn’t come and pick her up if he didn’t know where she lived.
“He’s cute. And you haven’t had a date since I’ve known you.” Boots was scrambling eggs in the small kitchen. “Go out. Have fun.” She clicked her tongue and winked. “Try not to behave.”
Hildemara didn’t see Cale at all that week. On Friday, she fretted about what to do. Maybe he wouldn’t show up. But then that would be even more humiliating!
“Will you settle down, Flo? You’re jumpy as a grasshopper.”
“What was I thinking? I don’t even know the guy.”
“That’s why you go out with him. So you can get to know him. Let me know if he’s a good kisser.”
“You’re not funny, Boots!”
She laughed. “It’s so much fun teasing you.”
Hildie sat on the beige sofa she and Boots had bought secondhand and plucked at the skirt of her navy blue dress. She got up again. “This is crazy.” She saw a black Model T Ford pull up and park in front of the house. “Oh no, he’s here. I can’t do this, Boots.”
“No getting out of it now.” Boots bounced over, knelt on the couch, and peered out through the curtains. “Holy cow! Red roses! This guy is serious. And a car! And I thought he was an orderly.”
Hildie slapped her hands away from the curtain. “Will you stop? He’ll see you! He is an orderly. He’s a student at UC Berkeley majoring in medicine.” She felt a twinge of something uncomfortable watching Boots watch him. “Why don’t you go out with him?”
Boots laughed. “He’s at the door, Hildie. Open up. Let him in.”
They went to Lupe’s on East Fourteenth Street. Over the next hour, Hildie found out Cale Arundel preferred the nickname Trip; he grew up in Colorado Springs; his father drove a city bus; his mother played piano for the Presbyterian church next door; he liked skiing, fishing, and hiking; and he’d spent three years at the University of Colorado in Denver. “I transferred to Berkeley because it’s one of the top universities in the country.”
Exactly what Mama had said. “Why transfer so late?”
“Didn’t have the grades to get in freshman year, and even if I had, I would’ve had to pay out-of-state tuition. Transferring senior year isn’t the smartest decision I’ve ever made. I lost some credits coming here, but I wanted UCB on my diploma, and I hope to do my internship in San Francisco.”
“Why are you called Trip?”
He laughed. “I can thank my father for that. He said I tripped over my feet until I grew into them.” He held up his hands. “Enough about me. I want to know about you.”
Hildie didn’t know what to say to make her life sound the least bit interesting. Thankfully, the waitress brought their spaghetti. Trip put his hand out to take hers. “Mind if we pray?” She put her hand in his as he said grace. He squeezed her hand lightly before letting it go. “Last thing I’ll say about myself—God matters. I go to church every Sunday. I hear you’re a praying girl. Now, it’s your turn to talk.” He stabbed his fork into his spaghetti.
Stomach fluttering, Hildie twirled spaghetti on a fork, wishing she had ordered something easier to eat. “My parents are farmers in Murietta, almonds and raisins. I have an older brother and two younger sisters. Bernie went to college in Sacramento. He’s married to my best friend, Elizabeth. My younger sister, Cloe, is going to the Otis Art Institute in Los Angeles. She intends to design costumes for the movies. Rikka, the youngest, is a talented artist, still in high school. When I graduated from high school, I came up to train at Samuel Merritt Nursing School. When the administrator asked if I’d stay, I said yes. End of story.”
Trip gave her a lopsided smile. “I doubt that.” He set his fork down and studied her.
She picked up her napkin. “Do I have spaghetti sauce on my chin?”
“No, but you have a nice chin.” He picked up his fork again. “Sorry. I like looking at you.”
No one had ever said that to her before.
Trip took her to Drums Along the Mohawk with Henry Fonda and Claudette Colbert. He kept his word and didn’t touch her, not even once. When the movie ended, he drove her straight back to the house, walked her to the door, said he’d had a great time, and wished her a good night.
She took the hint and retreated into the house, leaving the porch light on until he got into his car. She watched through the curtains as Trip Arundel drove away. Well, that’s that. She plunked down on the sofa and stared at the wall.
She had had the best time of her life, but thought she must have bored Trip to death. He couldn’t get away fast enough. Changing into flannel pajamas, she tried to read. Distracted, she went to bed and lay awake until Boots came home at three in the morning. “You don’t have to tiptoe.”
“You’re still awake?” Boots’s voice slurred slightly. “Have a good time?”
“Sounds like you did.”
Boots stood in the doorway. “A little tipsy, tha’s all. He took me dancing and then to some party. So? How did you like Trip? Nice guy, isn’t he.”
“Yes. He’s nice.” It seemed a harmless enough thing to say to her inebriated friend. In truth, she had liked him entirely too much. She had felt the loss of him when he said good night. “I don’t expect to hear from him again.”
“Too bad.” Boots waved her hand. “I’m going to hit the hay before I end up on the floor. Nigh’ night.”
Trip called the next day. “How about an ice cream at Eddy’s?”
And the evening after that. “It’s a nice evening for a walk around Lake Merritt.”
W
hen he didn’t call on Monday, Hildemara felt the hint of heartbreak coming on. How could she have allowed herself to fall for someone so fast?
When he called the next day and asked her to dinner and another movie, she declined.
“Sunday, then. Church?”
“I don’t know my schedule yet. I may put in for extra shifts.”
Trip didn’t press.
Boots came home early. “Why are you crying? Did that guy do something . . . ?”
“No. He didn’t do anything. Nothing’s wrong.”
Boots sat on the sofa. “He hasn’t asked you out again. Is that it?”
“He did ask me out.”
Boots shook her head. “So what’s the problem?”
“I’m not going out with him again.”
“Why not? You like him. He likes you. Put two and two together and—”
“And I end up with a broken heart. Trip could have any girl he wants, Boots. He’s gorgeous. He’s going to UCB. He’s going to be a doctor. That should make even you sit up and take notice.”
Boots gave Hildie a hard push. “Next time he asks, say yes.”
Next time he asked, Hildie thought up another lame excuse to say no. “I have to study for the state board exam.” She wanted to keep a distance rather than let herself hope.
The day after she received the good news that she’d passed and now qualified as a registered nurse, Trip showed up on the medical ward with a bouquet of daisies he’d probably bought from the hospital gift shop. “Congratulations!”
She took the bouquet and set it on the nurses’ station counter. “How did you know?”
“Boots told me. You aren’t on shift tonight and you don’t have to study. Let me take you out so we can celebrate.” He said it loudly enough for three nurses to overhear, even if they hadn’t been eavesdropping. Hildemara blushed and stepped away from the others, moving farther down the hall.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He frowned. “Did I do something to offend you?”
“No.”
“Why do you keep saying no, Hildemara?”
“Mr. Arundel!” Jones beckoned him down the hall. They spoke in low voices. Without looking at her, Trip strode down the hall and disappeared through the swinging doors. Feeling a lump growing in her throat, Hildie went to check on her patients. When she came back to the nurses’ station, Jones looked up at her. “You’re fighting a losing battle, Hildemara.”
Trip showed up in the cafeteria a few days later. Hildemara grabbed her tray and retreated to a table behind a potted palm. Trip gave his order, waited for it, and crossed the room. He set his tray on the table, but didn’t sit. “Boots said you probably wouldn’t trust me unless I had references. So . . .” He reached into his pocket, took out three envelopes, and slid them across the table. “Just so you’ll know I’m not the wolf waiting to devour Little Red Riding Hood.” He took his tray and left.
Annoyed, she tore open the envelopes. One letter came from Trip’s pastor claiming Trip was a morally upright young man who attended church every Sunday. Another came from the head nurse of the psych ward, far more serious in tone, commending Mr. Arundel for hard work, intelligence, and compassion. The third was in the form of a petition: All the undersigned concur that Miss Hildemara Waltert, more commonly known as Flo, should go out with Mr. Cale Arundel, commonly known as Trip, of Colorado Springs, a most honorable young man. Signatures followed, with Jasia Boutacoff at the top and twenty-two other nurses’ names below hers, including Miss Brown and Miss Jones!
Cheeks flaming, she folded the letters and stuffed them into her uniform pocket. She tried to eat her lunch, but felt the amused glances of several whose names were on the list. Trip sat alone across the room. He ate quickly, dumped his garbage, and came back to her table. Sliding a chair out, he turned it around and straddled it. Folding his arms on the back, he looked at her. “We had a great time, didn’t we? Or was I deluding myself? I have been working on the psych ward, after all.”
“Trip . . .”
“You know, it would be easier to marry you first and then ask you out.”
“Don’t make fun of me, please.”
“I saw you before you ever saw me, Hildie. You were praying with one of your patients. I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. I asked around about you. I liked what people had to say.”
“You asked about me?”
He grimaced in apology. “Boots has a reputation. I wanted to know if her roommate plays the field like she does. I wanted to know a little more about you before I made a move.” He smiled slightly. “I think you feel something for me or you wouldn’t be running so scared. I’d like to spend more time with you, get to know you better, have you get to know me.” He rose and turned the chair around. “Your decision.” He pushed the chair under the table. “You tell me no again, and I’ll take it as no.” He gave her a rueful smile, his gaze caressing her face. “I’m praying you say yes.” He walked away.
When she got off work, he was waiting outside the medical ward. She took the stairs instead of the elevator. He kept up with her. “So?”
“Yes.”
He flashed a smile at her. “Good.”
She stopped on the landing. Maybe he wasn’t the Casanova she had first thought, but that didn’t mean that this relationship would come to anything. He might take her out a few more times and realize she was the most boring girl he’d ever met and wonder why he’d bothered in the first place.
He was right: she was scared. She was already halfway to being in love with him. She needed to say something, but couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t expose her feelings.
Trip stepped closer. He took her hand and wove his fingers through hers. “Don’t worry so much, Hildemara Waltert. We’ll take it one step at a time and see where this takes us.”
And so they did for the next six months, until Mama called and said she needed Hildemara to come home right away. “Your father has cancer.”
33
1940
Cancer meant Papa was dying. Hildie had seen patients wasting away, in pain, dying slowly, relatives coming and going, broken and grieving. Cancer meant there was no hope. Cancer meant a lingering, excruciating death. When had he been diagnosed? What had been done for him? What, if anything, could be done? How long had Mama waited before calling for help? Hildemara couldn’t imagine her asking unless there was no hope at all.
She felt sick and afraid, wondering if she would be up to taking care of her father. How would she bear it? It was hard enough watching a stranger suffer.
And Trip. It meant leaving him, and she loved him so much she ached with it. She hadn’t told him yet. Maybe God had kept her silent for a reason. She had no idea how long she might be gone, and then, when it was all over, what would happen to Mama? A week ago, she and Trip had had a conversation that gave her reason to hope he loved her as much as she loved him. “We can talk about the future when I graduate from UC.”
“How long will that be?”
“Another year, maybe less, if I can squeeze in a few courses over the summer.”
Hildie wanted to tell him two people working together toward a common goal could get there a lot faster than one man on his own. She lost her courage.
Now it didn’t matter. Her father took precedence.
With newspaper headlines and radio reports blaring about the Nazis invading Denmark, Norway, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and the Netherlands and nurses talking about possible military service, Hildie put in for emergency leave. She packed everything in two suitcases and called Trip to break their Friday night date.
“I had something special planned.”
“I’m sorry, Trip.” She clutched the telephone, trying not to start crying again.
“What’s wrong, Hildie?”
“My father has cancer. I’m going home to take care of him.”
“Home to Murietta? I’m coming over.”
“No, Trip. Please don’t. I can’
t allow myself to think about anything but Papa right now. And I—”
“I love you, Hildie.”
She wanted to say she loved him, too, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have to leave. She felt torn between her love for Papa and her love for Trip.
“Stay put. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
Panic set in when he hung up. She called the bus station for schedules, called Mama with the time she would arrive in Murietta, raked her fingers through her hair, and wondered if she should call a cab and go before Trip arrived. With no one in the house, she felt vulnerable. She knew she would make a complete fool of herself over him.
When the knock came, she almost didn’t answer the door.
Trip knocked again, harder. “Hildie!”
She unlocked the door and opened it. Trip stepped inside and pulled her into his arms. Crying, she clung to him, knowing it would be a long time before she saw him again, if ever. He nudged the door shut with his foot. She shook with sobs and his arms tightened. She could feel his heart beating fast and hard.
Pulling her arms down, she pushed back. Trip didn’t try to hold on. “I only have a few minutes before I have to leave for the bus station.”
“Let me drive you to Murietta. I’d like to meet your parents.”
“No.”
He looked pained. “Why do I get the feeling you’re closing the door on me again?” When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “What’s going on, Hildie?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to find when I get there, Trip. I don’t know how long I’m going to be away. Months? A year? I have no way of knowing.” If she was gone too long, he might find someone else. She wouldn’t want to come back. And what would Mama say if she showed up with a young man? She hadn’t mentioned Trip in any letters, holding tight to her feelings, not sharing them with anyone, except Boots, who couldn’t help but see. What would Trip think if Mama spoke her mind as she always did? “Well, this is the first I’ve heard you have a young man in your life.” What then?