He swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin, his kind eyes twinkling. “Well, I was invited by a colleague of mine over to the church social in Beauty.” He tucked the napkin back into his lap. “Millie was cooking that night, and she served me one of her fine meals. It was so good, I took to attending the socials every month. Gobbling down anything she’d put in front of me to impress her.” He chuckled. “Must’ve packed on ten pounds before I finally asked her out, and another ten before I decided to marry her. Millie makes a ceremony out of our meals, and she likes having her kitchen run just so. Enjoy your dessert, Honey.”
After we finished, Doc led me into his parlor and pointed to a seat. I sat down in one of the pastel-green chairs with delicate orange flowers. The rich walnut arms were smooth, and I settled in, the chair gently hugging my backside.
“I’m sure sorry to hear about Miss Adams and Bluet and Jackson,” he said, using the nickname he’d given her at birth, declaring Mama was a fit girl who could turn as blue as the familiar bluet damselfly skinning the Kentucky creek beds when she was born. “I’ve been away most of March… Yes, thank you, Millie.” She served him a cup of coffee and offered one to me, setting the tray down on the ornate hand-carved wooden table between us before leaving.
“It was hard losing Retta. I miss her terribly. I called the prison today, and they said Mama is in the infirmary. Said I couldn’t visit or speak to her. I need your help, Doc.”
“What is her condition?”
“They wouldn’t tell me,” I said, worrying a loose string on the cuff of my shirt.
Doc lifted a white brow. After a pause he said, “Let me go telephone the prison. Stay here and make yourself comfortable while I try to get to the bottom of it.”
He grabbed his cup of coffee. After he left the room, I stood and walked over to the mantel, glancing at his photographs atop it, inspecting all the figurines that had been collected. Ten minutes later, I heard the pocket door slide open. Millie stopped him in the hall and whispered something to him.
A moment later, he came back into the parlor and sat down in his chair. I took my seat again.
“First, Honey, Bluet’s not ill.”
My shoulders relaxed, and I let out a draining sigh.
“I spoke with Warden Marie Sanders and told her I was your mother’s personal physician. Seemed like a nice enough gal. She informed me that Bluet underwent a sterilization after the court ordered it several weeks ago.”
“Barren,” I said, shocked, remembering how she talked about giving me a brother or sister one day.
“Eugenics is not uncommon for, um…certain folks, Honey, especially when it involves miscegenation laws.”
I stiffened. Different folk.
“But Warden did mention some of the prison doctors were curious and wanted to run tests.” He rubbed his chin thinking. “Now I didn’t take much to that, so I asked her if we could drop by tomorrow and pay Bluet a visit. She said it’d be fine.”
I collapsed against the back of the chair. “Obliged, Doc.” Finally, I would see her.
“Why don’t you take that ornery mule to one of the stalls in the barn, feed it some oats, and I’ll have Millie make up a room for you. Wouldn’t want you traveling all the way back into the hills late only to have you come back at dark in the morning. We’ll leave at first light.”
“I need to run over to the homestead and feed my cat first and pack clean clothes for the trip. It shouldn’t take but a couple of hours.”
“I’ll see you then. Ride safe, child.” He stood.
***
I paused as we passed Guyla Belle’s. Through the trees I saw her sitting on her stoop. I didn’t have time to stop, but maybe I could check on her and Johnnie on my way back and offer her a book that would make her feel better. Junia rode fast and we made it home quick and with extra time to spare.