Esther began to cry in earnest now. It was so unlike her but all of her habits and predilections seemed entirely baseless now. How many more times in her life would she have to repeat that sentence or something similar?Fannie’s sister died. My younger daughter died. One of my daughters died when she was young.If Esther lived until she was an old woman, she would still be explaining Florence’s absence, trying to understand it herself.
“She drowned off States Avenue. Yesterday afternoon.”
“No—”
Esther nodded her head, wiped at her wet cheeks with her hands.
McLoughlin handed her a handkerchief. “She was a very good swimmer, wasn’t she?”
“Incredible,” said Esther.
They sat together for quite some time, listening to the sounds of the hospital coming awake. A door opened and closed, a telephone rang in the distance, a pair of heels clicked up the stairs. Finally, McLoughlin spoke, “You’re not here because you want my help telling Fannie.”
Esther shook her head and blew her nose into the handkerchief. “I don’t want to tell her anything.”
“You’re worried about an early labor?”
“Do you think I’m being irrational?”
“Not at all. It’s a real risk. Particularly after last summer.” McLoughlin stood and walked around to the other side of her desk, where she pulled open a drawer and removed a pad of paper. “So, let’s figure out how to do this.”
“I think we need to move her to a private room,” said Esther. “Somewhere where we can keep better tabs on who comes and goes. Her father and I can pay the difference.”
“How many people know about… Florence?” asked McLoughlin. Esther could tell she had been about to say something else, was about to use a less sanitized word likedrowningordeathand had stopped herself. Esther’s confidence in McLoughlin grew.
“A lot of the lifeguards. The women in the Hebrew burial society.”
“No one on the hospital staff?”
“Not to my knowledge. She was treated at the hospital tent at Virginia Avenue.” McLoughlin scribbled something on the pad.
“And there’s no announcement in the paper?” the superintendent asked.
Esther reached into her handbag, removed the morning’s newspaper, and handed it to McLoughlin. Samuel hadn’t managed to kill the story, only to soften its blow. On the front page was the headlineGIRL DIES WHILE BATHING OFF STATES AV.
“Do they identify her?” McLoughlin said.
Florence was described as a local girl and a strong swimmer but was never named, thank God. “No,” Esther whispered, “but an astute reader might very well figure it out.”
McLoughlin skimmed the article, then began to write. On one sheet of paper, she listed the names of the doctors and nurses she planned to let in on the secret. “Lucky for us, the preceptors graduate tomorrow at noon. And the new class won’t start until the end of the summer.”
“Preceptors?”
“Students,” said McLoughlin. “Doesn’t matter. It’s just fewer people who have to know.”
On another sheet of paper, McLoughlin spelled out theaccommodations the staff would make to limit Fannie’s access to the outside world. They’d move her to a private room, of course, but they’d also remove the room’s radio and limit Fannie’s ability to visit the sun-room, where a telephone and a radio had been installed for the use of all the women on the ward.
“Can someone read her mail?” Esther asked.
It was the only request McLoughlin seemed to bristle at. “I’d prefer we just stop her mail entirely. We can deliver anything we receive to you, and you can decide what to do with it.”
By the time they finalized the plan, it was half-past seven. McLoughlin tore the papers from the pad and folded them in half and then in quarters. “I’d better start my rounds or someone’s going to put a copy of theAtlantic City Presson Fannie’s breakfast tray.”
Esther snatched up her handbag and stood to go. “I’ll be by to visit later. After—”
McLoughlin eyed her mournfully. “Until then, you are not to worry. She’s in good hands.”
Esther knew she should thank McLoughlin, wanted to even, but when she went to say something, she found she had no words left.
