Moving On (15 page)

“She called about half an hour ago. She can’t make it tonight.”

“Perhaps it’s just as well. I have my physical tomorrow so I can have an early night. If you two will be here for a bit, I’ll catch a quick swim.”

Nick saw Sharon pat Jack’s arm. “You go ahead, the stars are brilliant tonight. Call when you’re done,” she said.

Nick went into his room and stripped and pulled on his bathing suit. Then read the message he had printed on his white board.
Physical fitness is fundamental to being an effective member of the Canadian Forces.

He knew he could do the required push-ups and sit-ups, and his hand grip was strong. The one–and-a-half-mile, required-timed run was his greatest concern. He practiced at the school track, and his best time was in the acceptable range. His physiotherapist felt he was ready. He had to believe it himself. If Terry Fox could do it, he could do it.

Nick swam to loosen up his body. Afterward, he headed to the kitchen and poured a glass of milk from the refrigerator.

The interior light revealed his father sitting at the table in the dark. “I thought you might not go back after your amputation,” he said.

“Dad, I have to try. I’ve got skills the forces taught me. I’m good in every way, just missing part of a leg. The prosthesis is the best available.”

He looked over at his father and spotted a tear in his eye. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

“I thought I’d be done worrying about you over there, that’s all.”

“I have to be as strong as every full-time soldier. I have to be able enough to dig a trench, lug a stretcher and fire a machine gun, in extreme climatic conditions.” He must be getting soft. His father was worried and it bothered Nick.

“What will you do if they don’t want to take the chance with you in the field?”

“To be honest, I don’t want to face that fact. But if I can’t, then my experience will be used elsewhere. Either way, Dad, I’ll probably be leaving.”

“I thought my dream of passing the farmland to you was over. I just had to make sure. You’re more your mother’s son. She had the wanderlust, too.”

“I don’t know if it’s wanderlust for me. It’s more like Grandpa Henry talked about a feeling of contributing on a greater scale.”

“What do you think those of us who grow food do?” His father sat up straighter.

“I understand, Dad. I do. But it’s not the kind of contribution I want. I’m sorry.” Nick pushed his hand through his hair. He owed this man everything. “I’ll be here this weekend, though, when you and Sharon go and meet her family. I’m happy for you, Dad, I really am.” Nick walked over and clumsily put his arms around his father.

“I know, son. But it’s hard to put a dream to bed. When I saw you without your leg, as much as I hated to think of you like that, I thought maybe you were home for good. Safe.”

“What will you do with the land?”

“Not sure. Maybe the Hutterite Colony will rent it for a while and the decision will come to me. Any chance you’ll have a kid soon? Maybe the land gene just skipped a generation.”

“No woman yet, Dad.”

“You’re a good man. It’ll happen. Sharon thinks we’ve had a hard time, you and I, because we never got over the idea of your mom abandoning us.”

“That was such a long time ago.”

“I know.”

“Good night, Dad. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Nick. I mean it, I want you to be happy. After all, land is just that. Land.”

Chapter 13

Rolling over, Anna breathed in cool freshness and snuggled deeper under the duvet. The sunbeam streaming across her floor confirmed that, yes, a new day arrived.
Throw back your covers, get out of bed, and weed your nature garden
, her mind commanded.
Do not think about Nick not stopping over last evening. You don’t need anyone to check on you. You are a strong, capable woman.
More self-affirmation.

She flipped back the covers and shoved her feet into her fuzzy slippers. Her parents emailed every day, and some of her friends had her on their forward list for inspirational emails, so why was she giving in to these thoughts? Nature’s way meant the sun rose over the horizon and trees might bend in the wind. Time for her to move, too. The dew was gone from the morning.

Anna padded to the kitchen for her coffee. As she gazed out the window, Margaret hurried through the hedge. Anna opened the door with a smile. She’d read if you practiced smiling, the day was brighter. “Good morning. The coffee’s just finished dripping.”

Margaret bustled through the door. “I waited for the smell of coffee before I hurried over. Your lights were on late last night and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I’m getting used to this life of leisure.” Anna smiled, but her eyes were drawn to Margaret’s fidgety hands. “Is there something you need?”

“I know you said you’d wanted to keep quiet about your nursing career, but I have a favor to ask you,” Margaret began.

Anna took a deep breath. “Is Herman all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine. It hasn’t anything to do with him.” She took a step toward Anna and wound her arm around her.

“What is it, Margaret? You’re practically vibrating. Are you all right?”

Margaret pulled her shoulders back. “Here goes. We have a health clinic day at the seniors’ home once a month and the nurse just called and can’t come. It’s the only place some town residents have their blood pressure checked.”

Anna raised her eyebrows. “Go on.”

“I’m asking you to fill in for this time only.” Margaret’s words came out in a rush.

Anna leaned against the counter. “When do you need to know?”

“Half an hour? If you’re not ready to let the town know, I’ll understand.”

“What time does the clinic start?”

“One o’clock. Volunteers get everyone ready. There are charts and there’s a woman who checks clients’ feet and cuts toenails. And then we have coffee and cake.” Margaret sounded hopeful.

“How many clients?”

“A dozen, tops.”

“Twelve!” Anna sputtered.

“I’ll leave you now. Herman made me promise not to pressure you. Is half an hour long enough for you to decide?”

She nodded. Margaret let herself out and quietly closed the summer door.

Anna tapped her fingers on the rim of her cup.
Here’s a chance to do what I love and am trained to do. How long should I roll on this ripple of indecision?
She thought about Margaret, close to eighty years, was more active. If she took this step, her life would change irrevocably. She had worked with women who lived in small communities. Sometimes, they came to work exhausted because they were called out to emergencies during the night.

Her heart began to pound with excitement. Having nowhere to go all day long was nice, but it was getting just a little lonely. She carried her cup over to the miniature house. She could revisit this business venture when she was retired. She wanted to be useful to her community, but could this be her opportunity?

Anna ran her fingers through her hair, pulled the belt on her robe tight, clasped her fingers around the hot coffee mug, squared her shoulders, and walked over to Margaret’s.

Herman greeted her with a smile after he pulled his pencil from his mouth and his concentration from the Sudoku puzzle at the table. “Don’t let her bully you.”

She placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “I haven’t.”

Margaret was removing a cake from the oven. “We still like the idea of coffee and a treat. Our volunteer group lightens our recipes. No one has complained.”

Anna sat at the table. “You can stop wondering. I’ve kept up my license, so yes, I’ll do it. You promise there will be help? It’s a lot of clients in a short time.”

Margaret hugged her. “Thank you. I was worried about Mrs. Parker. She won’t go to the doctor and complained about dizziness the last time I saw her.”

“What time are you going to the seniors’ home?”

“I usually go early, but Iris Barren lives right there. I’ll call if you want to go over and check things out.” Margaret fairly bubbled. It was obvious she cared so much for her community and they cared back.

“I’ll get cleaned up. If it works for Iris, I’ll go over at eleven o’clock to check out the supplies and the charts. Of all mornings to be a late-riser.”

She draped her arm around Herman’s shoulder. “Will you be there to have your blood pressure checked, Mr. Lamb?”

“You won’t hold me back. Just wait until the other fellows get this information. You could be there until six.” He reached for the phone.

“Herman, Anna’s doing this as a favor. Unless those old guys need a check-up, can you keep it under your hat?”

“Sure. You get to tell all your ladies and I have to keep another of the best secrets since Nick was injured and alive, until Jack told everyone.”

Anna stopped for a minute and twirled around. “How exactly did he get hurt?”

“In Afghanistan, he’s in the army.” Herman filled in another square.

Her hand trembled. “How come I didn’t know this?”

“That’s one of the tricks of small towns, Annie. We assume everyone knows the same things. Just like people are wondering if you’re one of John Good’s offspring.” Herman tapped the pencil against his forehead.

“What? Why would anyone assume anything like that?”

“Let’s just say the ladies liked widower John Good, and he liked them back.”

“How ridiculous. Why me?”

“We wondered the same thing for a while after you moved into his cottage. After all, Nick could . . .” Margaret trailed off.

“Margaret, shush. Nick told us you’re not related.” Herman leaned forward.

“Are you suggesting Nick is John Good’s son?” Anna put up her hand. “Please stop. I’m going to be the first client taking my own blood pressure. This place is nuts.”

“No. It just has half-baked secrets,” Herman said.

“Like Nick’s amputation?” Anna threw out.

“Only because he asked. It’s not right if you ask me. It wouldn’t make any difference to who he is and people don’t care.” Herman put his pencil to paper.

She reached for the door again. “Unless you come over and tell me otherwise, I’ll be up at the Long Lake Lodge at eleven o’clock and meet with Iris Barren. Those are the facts, right?”

“If it makes you feel any better, you don’t look a bit like John,” Margaret added.

Anna didn’t acknowledge this ridiculous statement. Of course she didn’t look like John Good.

Why had she agreed? She looked longingly at the miniature house. So it was a lonely life, but it wasn’t complicated, like people thinking she was spending time with a half-brother. At least Nick knew the truth. Just wait until he came over again. She’d give him some healthy advice.
Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t fall head over heels for the one-legged man. He’s in the army, a man with a
career where he’s in harm’s way. I’m never going there again.

Anna stopped pacing when the radio announcer began the news on the half-hour. This wasn’t brain surgery, just taking blood pressure and histories.
I can do it.

First things first, though. She needed to shower
.
The direct commands were familiar, survival tactics.

A small, thin, woman with two cherry-looking spots of red on her cheeks opened the security door. “Anna Jenkins?”

Anna nodded and extended her hand.

“Iris Barrens. Come in. Follow me.” Iris unlocked the door of the closet that contained the equipment for the seniors’ health day. There was a blood pressure gauge and cuffs of various sizes, from large adult to child size. Iris’s thin arm would be lost in an adult size cuff. The charts were locked in a file cabinet. A freshly laundered lab coat hung on the back of the door. Iris reached into the back of the desk drawer and withdrew a key to open the file cabinet. All of these actions were completed with a flurry like a hummingbird’s wings.

“I’m your assistant. This is how the day runs.” Iris pointed to a chair.

Obviously, Iris was all business. Anna sat back, put her hands on her knees and kept her feet planted firmly on the floor, open to Iris’s instruction.

“When the clients come in, they register with me. I pull their chart and then you call them in, weigh them, take their blood pressure, and ask them if they have any problems. You also need to ask them if their prescriptions are up-to-date and so on. If there aren’t changes, they move on to the foot station and soak their feet. Then Helen—used to work in a podiatrist’s office—she trims any nails that need attention and then they have their coffee. Any questions?”

“I assume you know who usually comes to the clinic?”

Iris nodded.

“I’ll look at their charts now so I’m familiar with some of them and then the day will run smoother.” Anna hoped her voice reflected her experience.

Iris seemed to consider her carefully. “I have the utmost faith in Margaret Lamb, but for the safety of our clients, I need to be assured you’re licensed to practice nursing.”

“I have it right here.” Anna opened her purse and withdrew her license which was still in force until October when she could renew it or transfer it to another province.

Iris peered at it with the intensity of police personnel who’d pull somebody over on the side of the road. She handed it back. “I hope you’re not offended, but I had to check. I feel it’s my moral responsibility to my neighbors.”

“Not at all. It pleases me to know I’m in such good hands.” Anna moved over to the filing cabinet and opened the top drawer. “Would you mind?” she asked quietly.

Iris moved into position and skimmed her fingers across the folders, pulling out files and passing them to Anna. It was a relief not to make small talk or explain anything to this efficient woman. Anna wondered briefly what Iris did before she had retired. She didn’t volunteer the information, and Anna didn’t want to ask. She obviously knew what was required and nothing more was needed at this point.

Anna checked blood pressures and listened to stories about impending grandchildren visits. She heard about the bridge club which sounded like a fantastic support group. There were whispers about a poker club.

After they finished, Iris said, “Thank you, Anna. You were professional. Everything ran smoothly and on time.” She tidied the office. “Margaret will give you a coffee and cake. She saves a piece for the nurse.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Iris. Thank you for your hard work.” Anna extended her hand and Iris shook it vigorously.

That afternoon she thought about Nick and the army and about his relationship with John Good. Could John and Murray be related?

Anna checked her watch and noted two hours’ difference between Saskatchewan time and Ontario time zones. Murray’s parents would have finished their dinner. Anna hated to bring them more pain but there wasn’t any other way to solve the mystery. She needed to talk with them.

Besides, Murray had resembled Mr. Good.

Nick had risen before the sun and drove to the Regina army barracks. Fitness instructor Gerald Laporte was waiting for him.

“Sergeant Nickolas Donnelly, reporting.” His handshake was firm.

“Nice to meet you, Sergeant Donnelly. I’ve read your report from the medical physician and your physiotherapist. They concur regarding your readiness to attempt the physical endurance test.”

“I’m ready.”

“Let’s head over to the gym. I understand you would like the swimming portion at the end. Understandable.”

They passed time along the walk discussing the weather, the prospects for a good farming season. The prairie was rooted in the thoughts of the land, regardless of who might actually be involved. It seemed everyone’s consciousness knew the devastation of a poor crop year on the local economy and also the world’s food supply. The armed services received more recruit applications in a bad crop year from the sons and daughters of farmers looking for an education and a career with adventure.

They stopped at the medical office, and a civilian technician checked Nick’s pre-test blood pressure and resting heart rate. Nick pulled the snaps on his breakaway pants, knelt on the mat, and assumed the start position. For the push-ups, he’d practiced with his prosthesis on and knew his ankle flexibility was amazing. His toe box stability had improved over time. The instructor checked his position and stepped back. Nick began his repetitions and stopped when the movement became forcibly strained.

He rested, then positioned himself for his sit-ups. The instructor motioned to a private to hold Nick’s ankles. “When you’re ready.”

Placing his hands on either side of his head, Nick curled up and touched his knees with his elbows, counted off, and returned to the starting position, concentrating while Laporte kept time. “One minute.”

Nick rested for a minute before moving over to the handgrip. He started with his left hand. Between his fingers and palm at the base of his thumb, he held the dynamometer. He squeezed vigorously, exerting his maximum force. He switched to the right hand and squeezed a second time. The combination of his best score for both hands was calculated.