Letters, letter, letters. Mama was always writing to someone. Sometimes Hildemara wondered if her mother loved all those people in other parts of the world more than she loved her own family.
Papa went to bed early. Mama followed him. “Don’t stay up late, girls.”
When Cloe and Rikka finished their game, Hildemara took the book out from under her mattress. “I’ll come to bed in a few minutes.”
Mama stood at the work counter rolling out a piecrust when Hildemara came in the front door. The biography she had hidden lay on the kitchen table. Heat rushed into Hildemara’s cheeks when Mama glanced over her shoulder. “I saw your mattress sticking up and felt a book. I expected to find Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice or Sense and Sensibility. That’s what I thought you’d be reading.”
“It’s a biography, Mama. Florence Nightingale was a nurse.”
“I know what it is! I know who she was.”
Hildemara picked up the book and headed for the back door.
“Put that book back on the table, Hildemara.”
“It belongs to the library, Mama. I have to return it.”
“It’s not due until the end of the week, unless you’ve already finished it.” Mama laid the crust over a pie dish. “Have you?” She pressed it down and poured in a bowl of pitted cherries.
“Yes, Mama.” Hildie stood watching Mama roll out the top crust. It took only seconds for her to lay it over the cherries, cut away the extra crust, pinch around the edges, and poke holes in the top. Mama opened the oven, slid the pie in, and banged the door shut.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make a pie as good or as fast as you, Mama.”
“Probably not.” Flipping the towel over her shoulder, Mama stood, hands on her hips. “But then that’s not what you want to do, is it?”
Hildemara hung her head.
“Is it?” Mama raised her voice.
“No, Mama.”
“How many times have you read that book?” Mama jutted her chin toward the offending biography. “Two times, three?”
Hildemara thought it best not to answer. She felt exposed enough without having her heart laid bare.
“It’s not Florence Nightingale that fascinates you, is it? It’s nursing. I’ll bet you’ve been dreaming about it since Mrs. King came here with all her stories. Let me tell you something, Hildemara Rose. She filled your head with a lot of romantic nonsense. I’ll tell you what nursing really is. A nurse isn’t any better than a servant. I’ve spent most of my life scrubbing floors, cleaning kitchens, and washing clothes. I’d like to see you do something more with that brain of yours than spend the rest of your life emptying bedpans and changing sheets! If you want to know my opinion, I don’t see nursing as coming up in the world from where I started out!”
Hildemara felt hurt and angry at the same time. “There’s more to nursing than bedpans and sheets, Mama. It’s an honorable profession. I would be helping people.”
“That’s what you do best, isn’t it? Help people. Serve people. You’re already good at being a servant. God knows, you’ve been mine for the last six years. No matter how hard I’ve pushed, you never once complained.” She sounded angry about it.
“You and Papa work so hard. Why would I complain about doing my share?”
“Your share! You’ve done more than your share.”
“You needed help, Mama.”
“I don’t need your help.”
She blinked back tears, knowing that crying would annoy Mama even more. “I never please you, no matter what I do. I don’t know why I try so hard.”
“I don’t either! What do you want? A badge for being a martyr?”
“No, but a little approval from you would be nice.”
Mama’s eyes flickered. Sighing, she pushed her hands into her apron pockets. “Life isn’t about pleasing other people, Hildemara. It’s about deciding who you are and what you want out of life and then going after it.”
How could she make Mama understand? “For me, it’s about doing what God wants, Mama. It’s about loving one another. It’s about serving.”
Mama blinked. “That’s the first straightforward thing you’ve ever said to me, Hildemara Rose.” Her mouth curved in a sad smile. “A pity we can’t agree.”
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
Her eyes flashed. “There you go again, apologizing. You’d better learn right now not to say you’re sorry for being who you are.”
She picked up a dishrag, wiped the counter, and tossed it into the sink. “If you want to go to nurses’ training, you had better find work and start saving your money because I’m not paying for it.”
Somehow the rejection didn’t hurt as much as Hildemara had expected it would. “I didn’t ask.”
“No, you didn’t. But then, you wouldn’t, would you? You wouldn’t believe you had any right to expect anything.” She slid the book across the table. “Take it!”
Hildie picked up the book and looked at it for a long moment. When she looked up, she saw Mama staring at her strangely.
“One thing good has come out of this conversation, Hildemara Rose. At least I know now you won’t be clinging to my apron strings or living under my roof for the rest of your life. You won’t end up running away or sitting out in the cold until you freeze. You’re on the edge of the nest right now, my girl. You’ll fly out of here soon.” She smiled, eyes gleaming. “And that pleases me. That pleases me very, very much!”
Hildemara climbed onto her bunk, hugged the book against her chest, and cried. Whatever she had thought before, Hildemara saw now Mama couldn’t wait to get rid of her.
Hildemara lost her pal Elizabeth to Bernie the first day of high school. She’d always suspected Elizabeth had a secret crush on Bernie, but Bernie had never shown interest in Elizabeth. He’d been too caught up in playing sports and making mischief with his friends to care much about girls. On the first day of freshman year, Hildie sat on the grass with Elizabeth, talking about the second session of Summer Bedlam, as Papa called it, and her dreams of going to nursing school. Bernie stood over them with an odd look on his face.
“Hey, Bernie.” Hildemara shielded the sun from her eyes. “What’re you doing in the freshmen area?”
“Why don’t you introduce me to your friend, Hildie?”
She thought he must be kidding, but played along. “Elizabeth Kenney, this is my older brother, Bernhard Niclas Waltert. Bernie, this is Elizabeth. Now, what do you want? We’re talking and you’re interrupting.”
Bernie hunkered down, eyes fixed on Elizabeth. “You sure changed over the summer.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks turned dark pink. She ducked her head and looked up at him through her lashes. “In a good way, I hope.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah.”
Annoyed, Hildemara glared at him. “Don’t you have somewhere else to go, Bernie? I can see Eddie and Wallie over there, playing basketball.”
He sat and leaned on his elbow. “Don’t you have studying to do, Hildie? or someplace else to go?” He didn’t look at her as he talked, and Elizabeth didn’t look away from him either. Bernie might as well have said, “Get lost!”
“We were talking, Bernie.”
His mouth tipped, his gaze never leaving Elizabeth’s face. “Do you mind if I join you?”