Vivian Schurfranz - Laura

As she crawled back into bed she smiled faintly. "It’s so good to be part of the world once more."

"Believe me, it’s good to have you back. Welcome," her mother said, smoothing her covers. Holding the bowl, Maude began spooning the hot broth into Laura’s mouth. She returned the bowl to the tray and poured a cup of tea, holding out the cup. "A few days' rest and you’ll be as good as new."

Sarah came in and sat at the foot of the bed in her orange Oriental wrapper. "Hello, Laura, dear. You’ll have enough to digest with the broth and tea. Later you can eat some fruit." She beamed. "I’m glad you’re feeling better."

Laura laughed. "So am I." She gazed at Sarah’s healthy good looks. "You look like your old self! How you and Mom kept me hopping!" She gazed fondly, first at one, then the other, and chuckled. "It was only fair that you should both have to take care of me."

Her mother gestured to a few envelopes on the table. "Shawn has been calling and sending cards every day." She touched a red blossom in a vase of roses. "These are from Shawn, too."

Laura reached for the top card.

"No, no." Her mother shook a finger. "Not yet. After your nap you may open them."

Laura didn’t argue. She was too fatigued, but when she fell back on the pillow, even though she was tired, she felt oh, so good.

After Laura had rested for two days she dressed and went downstairs. It was a Thursday, but school wouldn’t open until December first, which meant she would be attending school through June, but she didn’t care — she knew her mother was right. Nothing must stand in the way of her schooling. More and more she was aware of the law and how she could help women.

As she drank her coffee she thought how wonderful it was to be well again. Was it only last month she had wondered if things would ever return to normal?

Her mother kissed the top of her head. "I’m leaving for the day. The trolleys must run on time!" She smiled down at Laura.

"Is it safe?" Laura asked, fearing the closeness of people crowded on the train.

"It is now," Mrs. Mitchell reassured her. "The trolleys are sprayed with disinfectant each morning." She shook her head sadly. "The death rate rose to thirty-two hundred last month, but it’s beginning to taper off."

"I hope you can’t catch the flu twice," Laura said.

"No." Maude chuckled. "We should be immune."

She watched her mom leave, glad that their love seemed to have been strengthened by what they had gone through.

Sarah drained her coffee and rose. "What’s on your schedule today, Laura?"

She shrugged as if she had no plans, but as she did, she thought better of it. She decided to tell Sarah and risk her displeasure. "I know you disapprove, Sarah, but I’m going to Headquarters." Her tone was defiant, and she braced herself for a lecture.

Sarah dropped her hand on Laura’s shoulder. "I don’t disapprove anymore. Who am I to censure your activities? Life is too short not to follow your conscience and do what you have to do."

Round-eyed, Laura stared at her sister. Was this the same Sarah who had told her not to be a "playgirl," to forget the suffragists, and to literally tend to her knitting?

In spite of herself she grinned at Sarah’s new attitude. "You believe the suffragists are right?" she asked incredulously.

Sarah laughed lightly. "I didn’t quite say that, but I do think they’ve done some good things. I wouldn’t even mind voting, although I must say it would feel peculiar." Her smile faded. "When you hovered between life and death, Laura, I was ashamed of how I tried to run your life. You were always very lively — so different from me. I frowned on everything you did." She sighed deeply as if with remorse. "Seeing you lie in bed so still and quiet was terrible. I couldn’t bear it. I wanted you back, Laura — back like your old self, a member of the suffragists, having two boyfriends. No matter what you did, I didn’t care."

Laura leaped up, hugging her sister. "Oh, Sarah, we’ve both been pigheaded. I’ll never criticize you again."

Holding Laura at arm’s length, Sarah smiled. "Don’t make such rash promises. Now," she said in a spritely tone, "run along to Headquarters and don’t forget to wear your yellow sash."

An hour later Laura was seated opposite Cassie. It was marvelous to be back in the bright tearoom with fall bouquets on each table.

She watched her friend as she folded letters, creasing them perfectly with her long, slender fingers. "Cassie," she said warmly, "I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again!"

Cassie glanced up, smiling. "I missed you, too." Then she sobered. "To think you nearly died and I couldn’t even visit you!"

"I was lonesome for you, Cassie — and for everyone here." She remembered how caring Cassie’s father had been, calling every day. "Your dad must be almost crazy with patients."

"He is," Cassie responded with a worried frown. "Dad hardly comes home, except to sleep. He even eats on the run. This past week, though, he’s been averaging more than his usual four hours of sleep. The patients have either died or are getting well, and very few new cases have been reported. I was so concerned for him." She looked at Laura with compassion. "And you, too, Laura. Was it terrible?"

"Terrible! Awful! Horrible! I’m just glad to be alive." Laura shuddered. "But I don’t want to talk about it." She looked around at the almost empty room. "By the way, where is everyone today?"

"Influenza has decimated the ranks here, too, but Alice and Lucy are fine. This mailing I’m working on goes out today to Idaho voters. Senator Borah of Idaho has been too evasive in his support of the amendment. Alice has served notice that she intends to work for his defeat. Here." She shoved over a stack of folded letters. "Stuff these into the envelopes, will you?"

Laura worked efficiently, inserting the messages with nimble fingers.

"How are Shawn and Joe?" Cassie said in a bantering voice. "Can you keep the cards and flowers separate?"

She paused, wondering if the confusion she felt was evident to Cassie.

"It’s not too difficult," Laura said, licking an envelope closed, especially since Joe had sent nothing. "I’m seeing Shawn Saturday. It will be the first time since I had the flu. But he’s been sweet and very attentive — calling every day, sending me notes." She paused. "Joe is fine, too. He even braved the flu to visit me, but I don’t know, Cassie, he seems more subdued around me. Maybe it’s because his mother died. I miss Bertina, too," she said with a catch in her throat, "but it’s not the same between Joe and me. He’s home now on a five-day furlough before going overseas." She thought of their years of being together and longed for their carefree playfulness with its deep-running vein of friendship beneath. Concentrating on the last few envelopes, she changed the subject. "Michael is coming home in mid-November. The war should be over by then. Did you see today’s headlines? The Kaiser has abdicated! I’m so eager to see Michael — any day now he’ll be back, depending on the weather and how long his troop ship is detained in New York." She piled up the finished envelopes. "I hope his shoulder will heal without any complications. If I know Michael he’ll want to join his architectural firm and immediately begin drawing blueprints!"

"Do you think you’ll follow in his footsteps?"

"Not anymore," Laura said slowly. "That was Father’s dream, and I always wanted to please him. I know now that being an architect is not for me." She folded her hands in front of her. "I’m not certain, but I think I’ll go to law school."

"Really?" Cassie’s eyes widened. "Alice Paul is enrolling at American University to pursue a law degree, too. You’ll be in good company!"

Laura laughed. "I didn’t know anything of Alice’s plans." She looked at Cassie. "And you?" she asked seriously. "Do you have your future all plotted out?"

Cassie, with a graceful gesture, smoothed back her shiny, waved hair. "I’m not sure. Dad wants me to go into medicine, but I haven’t decided."

With affection Laura observed her best friend. "It will be different next year, Cassie, won’t it? What will we do without one another? We’ve been inseparable since the sixth grade!"

"I know," Cassie said wistfully, "but that’s part of growing up. We’ll keep in touch — always." She chuckled. "If I go into medicine you can defend my malpractice suits."

They both laughed, and Laura rose. "Let’s have a cup of tea on that note."

But as she headed for the kitchen, she felt that their close relationship, made even closer by the suffragist cause, would change. They were moving toward a fork in the road and sadly would no longer follow the same path.