My Name Is Mary Sutter by Robin Oliveira Read Free Book Online Page B

reflected the ghostly beauty of the evening light. Mary gazed at the building, thinking of her letter of application on Dr. Marsh’s desk and how she might soon hear from him. Twice a day she accosted the postman at the door, only to be told there was no letter. Amelia said she was being impatient, and Mary said that she could not help it . The anticipated letter was her distraction from grief. It was also her future.
    Gaslight flickered in the lamps along State Street. Thomas and Mary sat together, the conversation arising naturally as between old friends. Soon she was telling him how just before her father died, he had apologized to her for once leaving her alone when she was a baby. Her father said he attributed her independence to this, his worst mistake, thereby taking credit for her accomplishments while completely ignoring the fact that her twin sister, likewise abandoned, was utterly uninterested in midwifery.
    While she talked, Thomas studied her. She had a way of carrying her grief that gave the impression she was doing well and would continue to do well. “I am certain you were a comfort to your father,” he said.
    “He died badly. I never want anyone to die as badly again.”
    Mary leaned forward. Did Thomas have any ambitions?
    “I am to take over my father’s business.” He explained about the orchards in Ireland’s Corners.
    “My family once had orchards there,” Mary said. “Are you passionate about farming? Will the endeavor sustain you?”
    Thomas thought Mary asked this as if he should question everything, but she did not appear disappointed when he said that he had no idea; rather, she nodded, as if she too found uncertainty the expected state of existence.
    “You, however, have already accomplished quite a lot,” Thomas said.
    “Not enough,” Mary said. Her eyes shone, and the stiff posture with which she held herself disappeared. “I want someday to attend medical school.” And she lifted her gaze to the wide pillars and high windows of the school; off to the right was the hospital wing; under its golden cupola was the lecture hall. The surgeries and laboratories resided in the wing to the left. She knew its layout by heart from having once sneaked past the clerk guarding the school from behind his desk.
    Thomas studied the building, and Mary held her breath, though not consciously, but having revealed herself she felt exposed. She hadn’t meant to say what she wanted so clearly. Desire had burst out of her, as if it could not be contained. And the goal seemed within reach. Any day now, she would receive the answer; any day now, she would be the first female student of the Albany Medical College. She waited for the puzzling, troubled look from Thomas, the one that said, You are overreaching , the one that said, What an absurd idea .
    Instead he said mildly, “You want to be a doctor?” There was only a slight tilt to his head, only a brief, quizzical glance, as if she had spoken in a foreign language that he had had to translate in his head, and then a wide grin blossomed on his face. The evening light was beginning to wash the color from the sky, but Mary could see clearly that Thomas’s eyes were sharply blue. Boyish, happy, his face shone with generosity. He seemed incapable of guile, incapable even of finding her ambition extraordinary. As if the entire world were an open place, holding out its arms to everyone. As if munificence were the normal course of things.
    “Wouldn’t that be something?” he said, leaning back, holding her in a gaze of respect and admiration.
    For the first time since her father died, Mary smiled.
    They walked homeward in a companionable silence, a damp gust of wind scurrying up State Street behind them. By the time they reached Dove Street, leaves were already beginning to fall from the maple saplings lining the street. From the corner of her eye, Mary could see the curtain parting in the Sutter parlor window. Jenny had been aghast that Mary would