Sharing Corrie

Chapter Seventeen

 Visiting Christina was the only reassurance Corrie needed that Doctor Benjamin's recommendation was necessary. As soon as Corrie had time to get dressed and eat a light breakfast, she rushed to Christina's bedside. Every time the girl took a breath, it sounded as if a key were rattling inside of her rib cage. Corrie sat beside her sister as she slept, brushing away the beads of sweat that gathered on her forehead during the restless slumber.

The door to Christina's room opened and Aunt Jack and Hannah rushed in simultaneously.

"Alex says we're taking her to Richmond," Hannah said breathlessly, rushing to Christina's opposite side.

"We?" Corrie asked.

"Yes, you and I, Alex, and Christina," Hannah said, and Corrie felt a great sense of relief.

"You'll be joining us? I'm so glad to hear it."

"Of course! It seems only fitting." Hannah stumbled for words, casting her round eyes to the ground. "This is all my fault. I should have been--I was so caught up in the newspaper that I didn't realize how much of a strain I was putting on Christina. It was just, she seemed so eager to help, and-"

"Hannah, don't blame yourself," Corrie murmured, putting her arms around the young girl's shoulders as they started to shake.

Corrie had already shouldered much of the blame for Christina's deterioration, but it seemed she was not alone in bearing the guilt; Doctor Benjamin and Hannah found themselves culpable as well.

"Well, I'm certain I'm not the guilty party," Jack snorted from near the door. "I'm the one who stayed with her while you youngins went off gallivanting." Jack winked at Corrie, and she laughed as her aunt continued, "But don't think you're going to do any more gallivanting without me. I'm going with you to Richmond. You'll need a chaperone, after all."

Jack wiggled her eyebrows at Corrie, and Corrie stifled a wave of emotion. Christina needed support, but if she was honest with herself, Corrie did too.

"I'm sure Mother and Father will be reassured to know that we're under your stewardship," Corrie murmured with a quirked smile.

Corrie returned home that evening and asked for an audience with her parents in the sitting room. Oliver peered at her from behind a newspaper, round spectacles propped against his nose. Anita busied herself with needlework, supposedly for the war effort, and Corrie wondered how her parents could be so oblivious to the state of their daughter's health.

"Mother, Father, if I may?"

"Yes, yes, say what you've come to say, Cornelia," Oliver said, gesturing for her to continue with the end of his pipe.

"I'm afraid that Christina's pneumonia is so severe that the doctor has decided she must be taken to Richmond for a few weeks for special treatment," Corrie said quickly.

The effect of her words was instantaneous; Anita dropped her needlework into her lap, face paling. Oliver's face, on the other hand, turned an unnatural shade of red. His pipe fell out of his mouth and dropped ashes on his pressed pants. Anita's murmured concern was drowned out by her father's outburst.

"Richmond?" Oliver roared, disrupting his carefully manicured mustache as he clambered to his feet with the help of his cane.

"Yes, Father. Christina's breathing has worsened and she needs medical attention that Irvington can't provide," Corrie answered, her voice resigned in determination.

"So that must be the reason that vexing doctor was calling you out of your bedchamber at an unearthly hour this morning," Oliver chided, and Corrie swallowed back embarrassment.