Shaking my head, I still couldn’t believe what she’d said. Was there a gentler, kinder side to Dr. Philips? One he only revealed to those he trusted, like Helen? Would he ever trust me enough to show me?
But to what end?
I had no desire to get close to Dr. Philips. My growing interest in Gray and Seth was troubling enough. Though I wasn’t sure of Gray’s loyalty to the Union, I could not discredit the attraction that crackled between us.
And then there was Seth. He hadn’t pressured me or made me feel guilty about my chosen profession. He had charmed me and made me feel brilliant and desirable.
Dr. Philips didn’t make me feel desirable. He didn’t even make me feel brilliant, as I fought to prove myself to him. But he had said I was beguiling—kind of—and I did love how we challenged each other.
Each man was so different, shining light on different facets of myself.
It drew Delilah’s question out of the recesses of my mind. Did any of these men bring out the true me? Or was I simply a different version of myself with each of them? And, in the end, would it matter? Was it necessary for me to analyze my paths if God would eventually show me which one I shouldchoose anyway? My parents and grandfather assured me it would work that way, but God had given me a mind, and I couldn’t imagine Him asking me not to use it when it came to something this important.
The band continued to play, and Helen and I listened, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally I asked her, “If you’ve known Dr. Philips for so long, do you know anything about his past?”
“Not as much as you’d think. He doesn’t open up easily, and when he does, he’s careful about what he shares.” She sighed. “The only thing I really know is that his parents were missionaries to China when he was a child. Both his mother and father were doctors.”
“Really?” I gave her more of my attention. “His mother was a doctor?”
“Remarkable, I know. From what I’ve gathered, Zechariah went to China with them in 1912 when he was about five years old. His father died when he was young, but instead of returning to the States, his mother continued their ministry, and Zechariah was raised in boarding schools.”
“How long has he been in the military?”
“I’m not sure. I met him in 1933 on the USSRelief. We were both sent to the Naval Medical Center last fall to get it off the ground, but I don’t know how long we’ll stay—or if we’ll be given orders to go together to our next assignment.” She toyed with her straw again, not meeting my gaze. “We work well together.”
She said it quietly, as if it was of little consequence, but I wondered if she had feelings for him. Perhaps she knew about his disease.
“When I left tonight, he was reading a book on digestive diseases, and since arriving, I’ve noticed he’s lost weight and is pale. Do you know what he’s suffering from?”
Helen frowned. “He never complains. I thought perhaps he was overworking himself.”
“I don’t think it’s work that’s ailing him.” If it was celiac disease, the only cure would be to eliminate gluten from his diet, but how much advice could I give? Celiac disease wouldn’t be recognized for another decade. I had already suggested he go on an elimination diet, but would that be enough for him to find the cause?
“I’ll keep my eye on him,” Helen promised, “and see if I can help. If you have any suggestions, I know he’ll listen to you, even if he pretends otherwise.” She regarded me for a moment. “If anyone can break down that tough exterior of his, I believe it might be you. His admiration and respect for you could be the gateway we’ve all been looking for.”
I couldn’t tell if she was happy about that or jealous. Nothing about Helen Daly suggested how she truly felt.
Either way, I wasn’t sure I wanted to break down his defenses—because then I might have to break down some of my own.
9
MAY 3, 2001
WASHINGTON, DC
The day after I attended the dance at the Army and Navy Club in 1941, I found myself walking to my parents’ house on O Street, Delilah beside me. Mom had invited me to a small dinner party she was hosting at her house that evening, and I had been happy to accept. She’d extended the invitation to Delilah as well.
“Is Papa still forbidding you from helping with the soldiers?” Delilah asked as we walked under the green leaves and setting sun along O Street. Beautiful homes graced this road, but my parents’ house was one of the showpieces. “Does he know you’ve been doing it anyway?”
I loved how Delilah called him Papa, as if she knew him personally. “Yes, he’s still forbidding me, and no, he doesn’t know I’ve been helping at the Capitol.” Unless Gray had told him, but I didn’t think he would.
“Papa was in the military, wasn’t he?”
I frowned at Delilah’s question. “Years ago, before I was born. Why?”
“I’m wondering if he’ll plan to fight in the war.”
Her question bothered me. I had worried about the same thing, though I hadn’t voiced my concern to anyone else. “Why would he? He’s a senator now.”
