13 - The First Letter

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As autumn was drawing to a close, to be replaced by the chilly winter months of November and December, a cool air settled on New Orleans. After a few days, Charlotte had gotten by at work, distracting herself from Will by busying herself to the extreme. She hadn't received a letter from Will yet, but knew it was only a matter of time. However, she was very moody. She rarely smiled, rarely laughed, rarely spoke-- as well, she showed a profound sense of loathing everything in sight without even opening her mouth.

        "What's wrong with Nurse Truly?" Doctor Roberts asked Ruth in a hushed voice one day as Charlotte was moodily fluffing a pillow. "She seems a bit down lately... is it just me noticing all this? Has anything happened lately that I'm not aware of?" 

        Ruth shook her head. "Oh, no." 

        Shirley poked her head into the conversation. "Doctor, do you remember Private McCaden, the man in Bed Thirty-One? The one who broke both his legs? The one who's back in the war now?" 

        Doctor Roberts nodded. "Yes. Quite vividly." 

        "Well, he was in love with Charlotte. Did you know? Charlotte's doing amazing, isn't she? She's working really hard," added Shirley. 

        "A little too hard," retorted Doctor Roberts. "I believe she's over-working herself. She's been working full days for almost a week now! And she refused last month's day off. I think she needs a weekend off... wouldn't you agree, Nurse Wright?" 

        Ruth nodded. "I agree, Doctor." 

        That being said, the North Wing nurses and Doctor Roberts cornered Charlotte and told her very firmly that she was to take the weekend off, no ifs, ands or buts. Charlotte, however, began to protest. 

        "No," Charlotte whimpered. "We need all the nurses we can get to help out. I don't want to take the weekend off, Doctor Roberts. Two patients died recently. We need lots and lots of help. I really, really do not want the weekend off. I have nothing to do, anyway." 

        Doctor Roberts wasn't fazed. "Two patients died last week. It's all taken care of. There're only seventeen patients in North Wing currently, and everything is under control. I don't think two days off for one nurse-- especially one as hard-working and resilient as yourself-- would do much damage to this hospital. You need rest, Truly. You've been working nonstop." 

        "But the war--" 

        "I know," Doctor Roberts interrupted exasperatedly. "But we've got everything under control here. You deserve this, Truly. Take it, okay? It's only two days, it won't hurt--" 

        "But the soldiers--" 

        "Charlotte Elizabeth Truly," Doctor Roberts said calmly, looking at her very seriously from underneath his spectacles. "You will take two days off. Saturday and Sunday. Tomorrow and the day after. You've been discharged, and are expected back on Monday. Do I make myself clear?" 

        Charlotte opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it indignantly. She pursed her lips, knowing she couldn't refuse an order from someone in a rank above her. "Yes, sir." She felt annoyed-- she really didn't have anything to do that weekend, except for wallow in constant thoughts, worries and anxiety. 

        "Excellent, Nurse Lieutenant." A pleased Doctor Roberts smiled serenely. 

        On Saturday morning, Charlotte woke up early, to find her sisters preparing for work. The three girls hopped around in their shared room, pulling on their uniforms and applying their makeup. Charlotte sighed grumpily. She wished she was getting ready with them. 

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