Chapter 40: Chapter Forty
Jacob carried Eleanor to her bedroom and monitored her closely, but she woke from the chloroform without any trouble. She slept off and on the rest of the afternoon, loopy and sluggish from the morphine. She didn’t want any supper, but she was able to nurse the baby between naps, and that was good enough for Jacob.
Andrew, on the other hand, needed a stern lecture about keeping his strength up given that he would have to provide a good deal of care for the baby over the next few weeks while Eleanor recovered. Jacob fried some beef and potatoes together in a pan, somehow scorching the beef while undercooking the potatoes, but his nephew didn’t seem to notice. Andrew, clearly, was in too much of a hurry to plow through his meal and get back to his wife and son to notice much of anything.
“You wanna know the baby’s name?” he said between mouthfuls.
Jacob straightened, his burnt-yet-raw dinner forgotten on his plate. “Of course!”
Andrew grinned. “Ellie wanted to tell you herself, but she’s a little funny from that medicine you gave her. We’ve decided to call the boy after the man who saved his life. He’ll be Jacob Benjamin Lewis.”
Heat shot up from Jacob’s collar and spread across his face and up the back of his neck.
“Oh, gracious, son, that’s, uh, that’s really not necessary.”
“Sure it is,” Andrew said. His voice trembled. “Ellie and the baby wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Naming little Benji after you is the least we can do.”
“Benji?”
Andrew smiled. “Thought we’d call him by his middle name so we don’t mix up the two Jacob Lewiss.”
Jacob started to protest again, but the sound of “two Jacob Lewiss” drew him up short. At this stage in his life, he’d never have a son of his own. The children who accidentally fell into his life were all girls. Not that there was anything wrong with girls. Having daughters had made him a better man, more aware of the limited choices women had. But there was something about a little boy carrying on his name. And not just his last name, but his full name…
He reached across the table and squeezed Andrew’s hand.
“I’m honored, Andrew. Thank you.”
******
Jacob sent word into town asking George Lewis if he wouldn’t mind tending the store like he had during the Lewiss’ trip to Virginia City so he could stay at Andrew and Eleanor’s for two days to monitor her recovery. Again, he marveled at the ability of carbolic acid to prevent infection. No suppuration also meant less pain for Eleanor, and before he left, he discontinued her morphine and left Andrew with a bottle of laudanum and dosing instructions.
“I’ll ride back out in a few days to check on you again,” he said, patting Eleanor’s cheek. “Send for me if you need anything before then.”
Eleanor wiped away a tear with the back of the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Benji. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”
Jacob smiled. “Bet you never imagined this when you caught Grace’s rattle on the ship to San Francisco.”
Eleanor laughed. “I certainly didn’t.” She pressed a hand to her stomach and shifted in the bed. “Oh, dear, laughing hurts.”
“It will for a while. I’ll remind Andrew to be somber.” He kissed both her forehead and Benji’s and left the room.
He wanted nothing more than to head straight home to Grace, but he stopped at a druggist in town to resupply. He’d used up most of his carbolic acid and morphine and left all his laudanum with Eleanor. The pharmacist sold him more laudanum and morphine, but he had to order the carbolic acid. Placerville, apparently, hadn’t yet embraced Dr. Joseph Lister.
At last he knocked on Mrs. Williams’s door and was nearly bowled over by an exuberant three-and-a-half-year-old.
“I miss you, Papa!” Grace said, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Jacob inhaled deeply, breathing in the sweet scent of her. “I missed you, too, sweetheart. So much.” He thanked Mrs. Williams profusely for keeping Grace the past few days and told her to send her three boys by the store and he’d have Luo Jun fit them all for new trousers, free of charge. He set Grace down, took her by the hand, and headed, at last, for home.
******
Jacob had hoped to return to work the day after coming home, but he was so exhausted he’d slept most of the day. He stayed awake long enough to send for Luo Shu to resume her governess duties, and then returned to bed, not waking until Grace summoned him for supper.
“You didn’t have to cook,” he told Luo Shu as he settled into his chair at the head of the table. He realized he should be embarrassed to present himself at the supper table in his nightshirt, dressing gown, and slippers, but the smells coming from the kitchen were so enticing he hadn’t wanted to take the time to dress.
“You haven’t eaten all day,” the governess replied. “Besides, Grace wanted to make something special for you. To celebrate.” She took Grace into the kitchen, and when they returned, they each held one side of a tray heaped with fried chicken. Jacob’s mouth immediately watered.
“I suppose I could let you prepare supper just this once,” he said.
He stuffed himself so full of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and biscuits that he wanted to cry when Grace disappeared into the kitchen again and came back bearing an apple pie. Somehow, he packed in a slice of pie and then leaned back in his chair, grateful that his waist wasn’t constricted by a pair of trousers.
Luo Shu wouldn’t let him help clean up, so he sat in his easy chair and caught up on the newspapers that had piled up in his absence while she and Grace washed the dishes. Once everything was washed and put away, Luo Shu bid them goodnight.
Jacob tucked Grace into bed that night happier and more relaxed than he’d felt since before the war. He read her two stories and even capitulated when she asked for a third.
“I love you so much, my darling,” he said when at last he blew out her bedside lamp and kissed her goodnight.
“I love you, too, Papa,” she said. “I proud of you.”
Jacob’s eyebrows met. “Proud of me? What for?”
She smiled sleepily up at him. “You all better,” she said, just before a huge yawn split her jaw. She nuzzled into her pillow and closed her eyes.
Jacob tucked the blankets around her and left the room, shaking his head. “Children say the oddest things,” he whispered to himself.
But Grace had a point. He felt like he’d redeemed himself. The world didn’t seem so bleak anymore. He’d performed surgery and performed it successfully. Instead of bringing death, he’d ushered in life. He thought of Johnny, his company’s drummer boy from Spotsylvania, and, for the first time, granted himself forgiveness.
Tired though he still was, he didn’t go straight to bed. He sat at his desk and pulled a sheet of writing paper out of the top drawer. His hand bumped something solid, and he reached into the back of the drawer and pulled out the Minié ball. He held it up and grinned.
“So, what have you got to say?” he asked. “Oh, nothing at all, eh? That’s what I thought.” He snickered and tossed the bullet back into the drawer. He dipped his pen in ink and began to write.
Placerville, California November 9, 1868
Dear Alice…
******
He returned to the store the next day triumphant. Granted, neither Luo Jun nor any of the customers knew exactly why his absence had been prolonged. He told everyone he had a new great-nephew and namesake but neglected to say how big a role he’d played in said child’s arrival. But it didn’t matter. He strode into the store—his store, he reminded himself—with the bearing of a conquering general.
“As soon as he’s a bit bigger, I’m going to bring him into town to have his portrait done,” he told Tom Nugent while the bookseller settled a bill for some new shirts. “I plan to send copies to all my friends back east.”
Nugent was out the door before Jacob realized the only friend he had back east was Alice. If she still wanted to be his friend after nine months of silence. Unless, of course, he counted Hannah’s sister Rachel in Boston, but he and Rachel had never gotten on especially well. He shrugged. No matter. He’d have several copies of Benji’s portrait made, and he could send them to Eleanor’s parents in Hartford. They’d certainly be delighted to have them to hand out to their friends. And he would write to Alice again, even if she didn’t reply. In the meantime, maybe he should work on making some friends here in Placerville. Apart from Eleanor, who had, admittedly, forced her friendship upon him, the closest person he had to a friend outside of family here was his tailor. He almost ran after Tom Nugent to invite him and his wife to dinner, but the doorbell chimed with the entrance of another customer. He grumbled and went back to work.