Chapters (38)
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- epilogue
Violet recalled a dark-haired girl from nearby Oxford. Nice clothes, and a handbag she’d envied. “Did y’all go to church together this morning?”
Red chuckled. “I believe we’ve discussed this, Violet. My mother brings fresh flowers in Friday afternoons and spends hours decorating every room in the house, including mine. She lights candles Friday evening and we have a special meal. We go to temple Friday night or Saturday morning. Then my dad hides from my mother on the golf course or in his darkroom, and she uses the time to interrogate me about my week.”
“Your mother does talk a lot.”
Red laughed. “I’ll tell you a joke my dad told me. A boy comes home excited about getting a role in the school play. His father asks what role he’s assigned, and the kid says he’s portraying a Jewish husband. The father pats his shoulder and says I’m sorry, son. I was hoping you’d get a speaking part.”
Violet giggled at Red, her eyes lit with mischief. She loved his sense of humor, and was glad he’d come to lighten the day.
Red hailed a group of prim old ladies walking by. “Shalom, y’all!”
They exchanged puzzled looks and walked a bit faster, rushing into the hospital.
“Guess they’re in a hurry,” he grinned.
“Guess they think you’re crazy. It’s too hot out here,” Violet announced. “I’m melting. Let’s go back in.”
A tall man in a suit stood talking with Dr. Perkins and her parents. Violet heard her mother say, “Well, we should take her home, then.”
“I’m not going home yet, Mama,” Violet dismissed the idea with a wave. “I have to be here when he wakes up.”
The tall man extended his hand. “You must be Violet. I’m Dr. Deason. I’ll be taking care of Johnny.” He ignored Red.
“How soon is he going to wake up?” Violet asked. The man didn’t look old enough to be a doctor. Doctors were supposed to have gray hair and wrinkles like Dr. Perkins, who tended to every man, woman and child she knew.
“I believe he’ll be conscious soon, Violet. There’s no harm in talking to him, and it might help. Would you like to go in and keep him company?”
Dr. Perkins sighed and sank onto the bench in defeat. “Violet, I won’t stop you...but not a word to my son about Kimmie or his mother. Mrs. Perkins’ health is fragile right now, too.”
“I understand, Dr. Perkins,” she responded. She followed Dr. Deason into Johnny’s room and stifled a scream. Every part of him that wasn’t bandaged was the color of eggplant. A tube snaked from the narrow white bed to a bag filled with urine. Violet felt her stomach lurch.