“Then why not wait nine months?” Her voice was pleasant and entreating. “What is the hurry?”
I thought of Anna, of her need to start living her life again and doing it as soon as possible. I didn’t want to make her wait until January—especially when I didn’t know if I would still be here after my birthday. If I hadn’t come with her, I was certain she wouldn’t have come on her own.
But would Anna want me to share such an intimate part of her life with our superior, even if it did answer her question?
“As you said,” I began, trying to make my voice sound neutral, “I could have easily finished my training in half the time it took. Nursing is second nature to me. I didn’t want to wait nine more months, not when I was ready to start making a difference now.”
“A noble calling, indeed.” Nurse Daly tucked Grandfather Hollingsworth’s letter back into the file. She clasped her hands again, setting them on the desk. “My best advice is to keep your age to yourself—as well as your connection to Rear Admiral Stark. There are a lot of nurses here who don’t have a powerful grandfather to get them in the door. They had to wait for the honor of serving in the United States Navy, and they will not take kindly to someone who didn’t jump through the same hoops. It could cause a lot of resentment, and I’d hate to see that.”
I nodded, not wishing to make any waves.
“Now.” She stood. “I imagine you are tired and would like to unpack.”
A knock at the door made both of us turn. A tall officer stood on the other side of the glass.
“Yes?” Nurse Daly called.
The door opened, and a captain walked in, wearing a navy-blue dress uniform. He bore the insignia of the medical corps, indicating he was not only an officer but a doctor as well. His bearing suggested years in military service, with perfect posture, broad shoulders, and arrogance to spare.
“Dr. Philips,” Nurse Daly said with a smile, motioning to me. “May I introduce you to Nurse Margaret Hollingsworth? She specializes in surgical nursing and will be helping you in the operating room.”
His brooding eyes turned to me. Dr. Philips was easily in his early thirties, if not a bit older. His blue eyes and dark hair complemented his tanned skin, though it appeared a bit sallow at the moment. He had the look of the sea about him,creasing the skin at his eyes, as if he’d spent years squinting under the sun.
I stood at the introduction.
“How do you do?” he asked curtly, standing at attention. He did not smile or offer a welcoming gaze. If anything, he appeared to want to be done with me and finish the errand that had brought him to Nurse Daly’s office.
“How do you do?” I replied.
“This is the nurse I spoke to you about,” Nurse Daly said as if choosing her words carefully. “The one who came so highly recommended by Rear Admiral Stark.”
Dr. Philips snapped his attention back to me. “You must be a remarkable nurse to have caught the attention of the Chief of Naval Operations.”
“He’s a friend of my grandfather’s.”
No sign of emotion emanated from his gaze. “I suppose we’ll have to treat you with kid gloves so we don’t make the boss mad.”
Nurse Daly made the slightest noise, indicating her displeasure at his words, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
My back stiffened. I did not personally know Rear Admiral Stark, but I would not admit that to this man. “I do not wish for special treatment.”
“What you wish for and what you receive are rarely the same thing, Nurse Hollingsworth. You cannot come here under special instructions from the Chief of Naval Operations and pretend to be like the rest of us.”
“Did you need something from me, Captain?” Nurse Daly interrupted.
His irritated gaze finally turned away from me as he opened the door and muttered, “I’ve forgotten.”
As soon as the door closed, Nurse Daly sighed. “I’m afraid I should apologize for him, but if I start now, I would never stop. Dr. Zechariah Philips tends to say whatever is on his mind.You’ll realize soon enough that he has a loud bark, though he rarely bites. Learning how to work with him will probably be your biggest challenge in the navy.”
I wished she was correct, but with WWII looming in this path and Anna’s mental health on tenterhooks, a cranky doctor was the least of my worries.
3
APRIL 18, 2001
WASHINGTON, DC
The next day, the locker room was quiet as I changed into my street clothes at Georgetown University Hospital following my afternoon shift. I was in my fourth year of medical school and was doing a four-week emergency medicine rotation. The day had been busy. Two heart attacks, a car accident, and a burn victim had kept me running, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. My days were filled with purpose—and kept me distracted.
