The song ended with the line Tomorrow morning, if God wills, you will wake once again.
The quiet lullaby didn’t distract Vi. “Will she tell me?”
Gran stopped singing and set the hairbrush down on the table. She was silent for a beat. She got a certain look when she was thinking deeply about something: Her eyes glanced up to the right a little, and her mouth tightened into a hard line.
“I don’t know, Violet. Right now, as you may have noticed, she doesn’t speak.”
“Why not? Is she mute or something?”
“There’s nothing physically stopping her, as far as I can tell.”
“But then why?”
“I can’t answer that. I can only say my hope is that she will find her voice again. That here, with us, she’ll get better. Now, finish your tea before it gets cold.”
Gran leaned in, fluffed up Vi’s pillow. “You can help her, you know,” she added. “You can help us both.”
“How?”
Gran smiled. “You’re a clever girl with many talents. I have no doubt you’ll make a fine doctor someday. Is that still what you want to be?”
Vi nodded quickly, yes, yes, yes. “More than anything.” She’d wanted to be a doctor for as long as she could remember. Not a psychiatrist like Gran, but a surgeon like her own father had been. He’d been one of the best in the whole Northeast. That’s what Gran always said, her face glowing with pride. Gran had been giving Vi special lessons: how to dissect frogs and mice, how to suture. Gran said she had a real gift with a scalpel and steady surgeon’s hands. Before Gran became a psychiatrist, she’d trained as a surgeon, so she knew.
“I’m glad,” Gran said now, taking Vi’s hand and sliding her own down until she was clasping Vi around the wrist, her fingers resting on the inner side, pressing slightly, taking her pulse, feeling her heartbeat. With her other hand, Vi did the same thing to Gran. It was something they’d done as long as Vi could remember.
I feel your pulse, Vi would say.
And I feel yours, Gran would answer. Nice and strong. You’ve got a strong heart, Violet Hildreth.
“You’ve got a strong heart, Violet Hildreth,” Gran said now. She smiled at Vi, making her feel warm and glowing. “And a strong will to go with it. I have no doubt that you’ll be able to help me. And to help Iris.”
“How?”
“Find a way in. Be gentle and kind. Include her. Treat her like a sister.”
“A sister,” Vi repeated, feeling the word move over her tongue. She felt a sense that she’d been waiting all this time and didn’t even know what she’d been waiting for. Until now.
A sister.
“And, Violet,” Gran said in a serious voice as she stood and lifted the empty teacup from Vi’s nightstand. “If Iris does start telling you things, I’ll need to know. You’ll have to give me reports.”
Reports! It all sounded so official. Like something Gran would say to the staff at the Inn.
“Do you think you can do that for me?”
“Of course,” Vi told her. “I can type them up!” Vi had a Smith Corona that Gran had given her for her birthday. She loved the clack of the keys, the clang of the bell when she reached the end of the line, the slight smell of oil and ink.
Gran chuckled. “That’s my girl. Verbal reports will work just fine, Vi. And I’d prefer if Iris didn’t know. When she trusts you, as I know she will, I don’t want to make her question that trust. Do you understand, my love?”
“Yes,” Vi said, nodding, trying to look as serious and grown-up as she knew how.