“This didn’t cost much at all.” Charlie handed Ivy her own wristwatch—ticking.
She gasped and buckled it around her wrist. “Thank you. How—”
“A watchmaker in Saint-Malo fixed it. Now Fern can stop harassing you.”
“Harassing?” Uncle Arthur said.
“It isn’t that bad.” Ivy held the watch to her ear and savored the sound. “She sets timetables for me, but I’m hopeless without a watch. I have no sense of time.”
Aunt Ruby sniffed. “I’ve seen those timetables. Our dear Fern does run a tight ship.”
“I couldn’t do it without her.”
Aunt Ruby crossed her arms, clad in a dark blue jumper. “She’d have no ship to run without you.”
“Oh, Fern would find something to run,” Uncle Leo said.
Charlie snickered.
“Charlie!” Ivy said.
“Uncle Leo said it.” He pointed at his uncle, whose shoulders jiggled with laughter.
Correct or not, Ivy didn’t like talking about someone who wasn’t present.
“She is efficient, our Fern. An excellent quality.” Aunt Ruby’s dark eyes turned serious. “But you mustn’t let her talk down to you, especially in front of the patients. It undermines their respect for you. I’ve spoken to her about that.”
Aunt Ruby had spoken to Fern? Ivy wrestled up a little smile. “It isn’t that bad. And I know Fern is unhappy, which makes her crosser than usual. Not only is she separated from her family, but she’s working for her younger sister.”
“She’s jealous,” Charlie said. “You’re a doctor, and she isn’t.”
Ivy’s shoulders squirmed. “She never wanted to be a doctor.” If anything, Ivy was the one who ought to be jealous of her gorgeous sister with her gaggle of friends.
“You depend on your sister, just as you always depended on your father.” Aunt Ruby tipped her head, her gray-streaked hair rolled on the sides and coiled in the back. “It’s time you depended on God alone and trust the skills he gave you.”
“Thank you. I’ll try.” Ivy edged forward in her seat. “I should check with Aunt Opal.”
“I’m waiting for the blancmange to set,” Aunt Opal called, followed by a cough.
“It’s worth the wait.” Uncle Arthur rubbed his belly, far leaner than it had been two years earlier. “She does wonders with carrageen moss.”
Joan de Ferrers and the other island chemists did quite a business turning the reddish seaweed into a powder that became gelatinous when boiled. Miss de Ferrers used it to make syrups more palatable, and Aunt Opal used it to make a splendid dessert.
“I have another gift for you,” Charlie said.
“You shouldn’t have done. This is all I need.” Ivy stroked the brown leather of her watchstrap.
“You’ll like this.” Charlie fiddled with something under the wing of his jacket. “The real reason you hate the timetables is because you can’t draw.”
Ivy sighed. She could draw only in the evenings, and only the same subjects over and over. When she saw something breathtaking on her rounds, she was powerless. “I understand why it’s necessary. When I draw, I get caught up, and hours pass. That isn’t fair to my patients.”
“All right, Dr. Picot.” Charlie leveled a fatherly look at her. “When Uncle Arthur had a cut on his leg, did you amputate?”
“Of course not.” Ivy slid her uncle a smile. “Perhaps I should have done.”
Uncle Arthur gave her a mock scowl.
“Well, Fern amputated your drawing, when all you needed was some ointment. Or a kitchen timer.” Charlie lifted a little steel timer and a big grin. “I obtained it through the ‘Exchange and Mart’ column in theEvening Post, traded for some of Dad’s tobacco.”
