Laurie moved restlessly beside me. “You gonna tell me why I can’t tell Momma?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Listen... Michael has enough to worry about. I don’t want him to know until he has to. It would be one more thing on his mind, and it could be a distraction... a distraction he doesn’t need right now. No, I can’t tell him. Not yet.”
“I wasn’t going to tell him — just Momma.”
“The more people who know, the more likely it will get back to him. Someone might mention it in a letter... no, I don’t want anyone to know... and there’s another reason...” I paused, ripping the broom sage into tiny bits.
“What?”
“I’m going to try to get a job — with the vet. It’ll be hard enough to convince old Dr. Driscoll to hire me. He’d never consider it if he knows I’m pregnant.”
“Are you crazy as a June bug, Jay? You can’t work for a vet if you’re pregnant!”
“Why not? What woman stops working in the fields just because she’s expecting? It does not increase the risk to the viability of the fetus...”
“Huh?”
“Hard work will not make it more likely that I’ll lose the baby.”
“You sure?” Her eyes narrowed until only grass green reflected beneath her lids.
“I’m sure. I did study biology and physiology.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t mean you know it all.”
I nodded my head, agreeing with her. “No. I know mighty little.”
A mischievous grin spread to her eyes. “Bet you don’t know who else is expecting.”
I shook my head. “No... Who?”
“Someone you know well...”
“Marla?” Marla would have told me. Laurie shook her head, and my eyes widened. “Sylvia?”
Laurie looked pleased with herself. A wave of nausea washed over me, but I was able to choke it back. I swallowed before I could speak. “How do you know? Did she tell you?”
“No.”
“How do you know then? Is she having morning sickness?”
Laurie scoffed. “If she is, she’s hiding it well.” She shifted her gaze to me and studied me, smiling. “Unlike someone else I can name.”
I punched her in the arm, not liking the reminder of my loud vomiting. Anyone going down the road could have heard. I almost growled at Laurie. “How do you know she’s pregnant, then?”
“Anyone with eyes can see she’s showing. Looks like she’s four or five months to me.”
“I haven’t noticed.” Surely I would have known if she was pregnant.
The stream gurgled behind us, a soothing sound. My eyelids felt heavy. For a couple of weeks now, it seemed I couldn’t get enough sleep. I was bone tired from cleaning and getting the farm ready. And stressed from the move.
Laurie shook her head at me. “You’ve only been here a little while, and you’ve been running around like a chicken with its head chopped off — you wouldn’t notice a snake less’n it bit you, not even a horned one.”
That was true. Maybe I had been too busy to be very observant. “But if she’s four or five months, that means...”
“Yep. She was preggers before she even met William... if they’re telling the truth about when they met.”
“Why would they lie? That wouldn’t make sense... And you might be wrong about how far along she is.”
To tell the truth, Laurie could not know for sure Sylvia was pregnant. Perhaps Sylvia had just gained weight.
A look of stubbornness passed over her, and the planes of her face went rigid. “She’s pregnant, all right!”
I pondered what she had said, that William was not the father. Her calculations were a little off. “If she’s four months, she would have gotten pregnant in November... maybe it was the beginning of December. If so, it’s possible the baby could be William’s...”
Laurie was shaking her head vehemently. “I ain’t believing it! She tricked him into marrying her because she knew she was pregnant with some man’s child... no telling who!”
I released the pieces of broom sage and the March wind caught them, swirling them around. If William wasn’t the father and if I believed Michael, Dan was the likely choice. It made the queasiness in my stomach intensify. Michael had told me she was a share crop. That meant she had more than one man dangling on a string... maybe even Michael — why hadn’t he said he wasn’t involved? I shook my head until my dizziness returned. No... it could not be Michael!
I pushed myself off the rock. “I’ve got work to do. I can’t sit here gossiping all day.”
“Think I’ll go get my fishing pole...” She stood and stretched.
“You’re really not going to school?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Nah.”
How could she skip school? I couldn’t comprehend it. “What do you plan to do when you graduate?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Why plan? ’Specially now... with the war and all.” She winked at me. “Who knows? I might join up...”
“Laurie, don’t do anything foolish.”
“Defending your country is foolish?” Her hard stare brought heat to my cheeks.
“Of course not. I’m just saying not to be impulsive. Think things through.”
Laurie’s demeanor suddenly changed, her face sobering, and it was as if a different person spoke. “I’d advise you to do the same. Lying to your husband is not the correct way to embark on marriage. Write him and tell him you’re pregnant.”
Anger slashed through me. “Butt out, Laurie. This is none of your business.”
“Butt out? Oh? Is that one okay to say?” She turned on her heel and stalked away. I watched her until she disappeared into the edge of the woods.
I sighed, wondering what had just happened. But I didn’t have time to worry about it. I needed to get home and clean up for my job interview.
I would straighten things out with Laurie later, maybe drop by on my way back from my interview, and see for myself if Sylvia was indeed pregnant.
I hoped Laurie just had a vivid imagination.
Chapter 13—Dr. Driscoll
The vet’s office, a small, wood-frame building with peeling white paint, sat on a side street. I took a deep breath and entered, blinking for a moment to let my eyes adjust. Almost black, wide plank floors and walls of dark pine made it difficult to see, even with a lone electric bulb hanging, without a shade, from the ceiling. The receptionist, behind a counter, slowly came into focus. I peered around, to get my bearings. A young boy sat in one of the straight-back chairs against the wall, a dog with patches of bald spots amid his fur on his lap. I smiled at the boy and his dog, but refrained from touching the dog, afraid it had mange. I turned my attention back to the receptionist.
She was a young blonde with green eyes, someone I didn’t recognize. Of course, I didn’t know too many people in town.
Her strawberry blonde hair was bobbed, her eyes outlined in black, and her lips painted red. She nodded at me but didn’t smile. “May I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I just graduated from Alabama Polytechnic Institute with a degree in veterinary science. I would like to apply for a job.”
“You graduated from that college in Auburn?” Her eyes sparkled a brighter green.
A smile of pride spread across my face. “Yes, ma’am. I’m one of the first female veterinarians to graduate from there.”
“Congratulations.” She pushed back her chair and stood to shake my hand.
I was surprised but took her hand in mine and gave it a warm shake.
“Dr. Driscoll hasn’t mentioned anything about hiring anyone to help him... but he’s become seriously overworked. With the war, things are changing. Farmers are expanding, buying more milk cows, more hogs. It’s going to be difficult for him to keep up.” She leaned closer to me. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”
“Oh... sure. I understand.”
“What did you say your name was? I’ll tell Dr. Driscoll that you’re here to see him.”
&
nbsp; “Sarah Jane Hutchinson.” I said it with the same pride as when I told her I was one of the first female graduates.
“Sarah Jane — you’re the one who married Michael Hutchinson. Lucky you.” She tilted her head to one side, appraising me. “I’m Velma Green.”
My cheeks grew hot under her scrutiny. “So, you know Michael?”
It was her turn to blush as she nodded her head. “I knew him before he left for college.” She bit her bottom lip before turning away. Two oak doors were behind her, and she went through one.
She reemerged after only a few seconds and resumed her professional demeanor. “Dr. Driscoll said he’d see you now.”
“Thanks.” I smoothed down the front of my dress and went through the door she had indicated.
I was surprised to find myself in an operating room. A large coon dog was stretched out on the table. Dr. Driscoll had one hand holding the anesthesia mask at the dog’s nose, while with his other he made an incision with a scalpel. Without thinking, I stepped forward and took the anesthesia mask from his hand. The day I administered the manual anesthetic to the turtle flashed into my mind, and I shook my head to remove the image. I peeled back the dog’s eyelid and saw it was under and seemed to be taking the anesthetic well.
“Who are you?” The vet’s voice was gruff, matching his disheveled appearance. He peered up at me under bushy brows, his bloodshot eyes regarding me with distrust. Dark, puffy circles underlined his eyes.
“Sarah Hutchinson. I’m a recent graduate of Alabama Polytechnic Institute with a veterinary degree.”
“It ‘pears they let in anyone nowadays.” His glare dared me to answer.
I didn’t comply, dropping my glance to the dog, subtly letting the doctor know he needed to get back to work.
After another moment, he carefully probed the dog’s insides, digging out a few fragments that he dropped, clanging, into a metal bowl on a small table.
He challenged me again with another stare. “Sew him up.”
“Me?”
“You’re the only one in here, ain’t you? The grad-ju-ate from Alabama Polytechnic Institute.” His tone mocked me. “I sure ain’t talking to the dog.”
He turned his back to me and went to the small sink, discolored with rust, to wash his hands. The needle and sutures lay next to the bowl on the table. I picked them up and got to work, fighting off the nausea coming from the numerous smells — urine, cigar smoke, chloroform, and some chemical odors I couldn’t identify.
When he had finished washing his hands, he came back to watch me. I ignored him, concentrating on the dog, checking occasionally to be sure he was still doing well with the anesthetic.
I finished, and Dr. Driscoll liberally sprinkled sulfur over the sutures.
“So, what are you doing here, Miz Hutchinson?”
“I’m looking for a job.”
He looked me up and down. “How do you expect to work in those women clothes? Do you know what’s involved in veterinarian work?”
“Of course I do. I’ll buy overalls to work in, and I’m a hard worker, Dr. Driscoll.”
“What kinda grades you make?”
“Straight As.”
He eyed me and shook his head. “You look a mite puny.” Yet, he continued studying me, scratching his chin. “Who was you before you married?”
“My maiden name’s Hunter.”
His eyes became thoughtful. “James and Molly’s daughter?”
I nodded. I didn’t want to beg but couldn’t help myself. “Why not just a trial period? A few weeks — say three weeks. If I can’t do the job, then we’ll part company.”
He shrugged his shoulders and the rubbing of his chin slowed. He sighed heavily. “Might not be a bad idea. I could use an extra pair of hands.”
“Thank you.” I held my hand out to shake his, but he ignored it. I smiled my gratitude instead. “When do you want me to start?”
“In the morning. Be here by six. We want to get an early start.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
I left him, thankful I had managed to get out of the room without gagging. I smiled at Velma, waved at the young boy, and continued out.
That had been easier than I had anticipated, and I floated the two blocks to the general store. I bought two pairs of overalls and a pair of work boots. I was all set for the morning.
Eventually, I would have to tell Dr. Driscoll I was pregnant — but that could wait. After a few weeks, when he got used to me and when I had proven my worth, I would let him know. Until then, it would be my secret — at least as long as I could keep it.
I walked back to Michael’s truck — yes, it would always be Michael’s truck. I just had temporary custody.
I ran my hand across the seat, my plain gold wedding band catching the rays of the evening sun. Touching the locket, I smiled, thinking Michael would be proud of me.
I cranked the truck, rolled down the window, and drove to Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt’s. The cool air kept my nausea at bay. Why did they call it morning sickness? This was all-day sickness!
I pulled into my aunt and uncle’s yard and parked the truck. The setting sun shot streaks of gold, purple, orange, and red across the sky.
Laurie met me at the door and took my arm, leaning in to whisper one word in my ear. “Sorry.”
“Me, too,” I whispered back.
Laurie led me to the kitchen where the family had just sat down to eat.
Aunt Jenny jumped up to give me a quick hug. “Let me get you a plate.”
Sylvia looked up, without smiling. “Hi, Sarah Jane.”
The aroma of fried chicken, turnip greens, and cornbread wafted through the air, making my stomach churn. I waved the plate away. “No. Y’all go ahead. I’ll just drink some buttermilk.”
Aunt Jenny frowned at me, puzzlement crossing her face. She knew I had never turned down a chance to eat her cooking, especially not fried chicken.
I walked to a shelf and got down a glass. “I’ve been to town. Just got back.” Maybe she’d think I ate while I was there.
“Did you see your mother and Zeke?” Uncle Colt asked.
I shook my head. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t even think of going by. Guess what?”
Sylvia lifted one eyebrow lazily. “What?”
I smiled at Uncle Colt, Aunt Jenny, and Laurie, ignoring Sylvia. “I got a job. Dr. Driscoll hired me.”
Uncle Colt’s mouth opened and closed before he spoke. “That old cuss? I’d have bet the farm that he’d never hire a woman. That beats all.” A grin spread across his face.
I had to laugh. I took a seat at the table and took a tentative sip of the buttermilk, praying I wouldn’t gag.
Laurie didn’t say a word, but her lips thinned in a sign of disapproval.
Aunt Jenny patted my hand. “Are you sure you want to work? If Zeke comes to live with you, he’ll keep you busy... and what of your momma? You may have to care for her.”
My eyes widened and I blinked at Aunt Jenny. “I wasn’t planning on Momma moving in with me — just Zeke. Can’t she stay in the apartment?”
Uncle Colt shook his head. “You saw her at your wedding. She’s not right.”
I had forgotten about her behavior — or at least put it out of my mind. But why should her behavior concern me? She wasn’t even my biological mother! No one spoke. They all watched me, waited for my answer.
I rubbed my temples, a headache coming on to join with the nausea. “The mental hospital... she can go back there, right?”
Aunt Jenny shook her head. “Only if she checks herself in or if the doctor advises it.”
Uncle Colt took a bite from a chicken leg and chewed thoughtfully. He washed it down with a swig of milk. “To tell you the truth, Jay, your momma has been asking for you.”
“Asking for me?”
“Every time we drop by to see her, she’s asked us when you’re moving back. I think she’s hoping you’ll take her in.”
I searched their eyes. Surely Au
nt Jenny and Uncle Colt couldn’t expect me to take Momma in. After all she had done... I sighed and fingered the locket, thinking of Poppa. It wasn’t her fault that she had mental issues, was it? Yet, why should I be stuck with her? But she had no one... no one but Zeke... and me.
I’d have to talk to Zeke. Maybe part of his reluctance was that he didn’t want to leave his momma. I sighed.
Sylvia and Laurie had been eating quietly and watched the conversation. Laurie’s eyes held sympathy, but Sylvia’s had narrowed as she contemplated me.
“We’ll see,” I finally said. “But whatever I decide, I still plan to work for Dr. Driscoll. For as long as I can.”
Laurie slowly shook her head at me, her lips still thinned into a line of disapproval.
I smiled at her. “So, how was school today, Laurie? Mondays can be tough, getting back into the swing of it, after a long weekend.”
Any remaining vestige of sympathy disappeared from her face. “Just fine.”
I smiled to myself. Obviously, she had not told Aunt Jenny and Uncle Colt she had skipped school. I shouldn’t have teased her, since she had only been trying to help. I took another sip of buttermilk, wishing I hadn’t poured so much. I hated to waste it.
Laurie and Aunt Jenny started clearing the table. Aunt Jenny asked me again if I wanted anything to eat, but I shook my head. I got to my feet, to help, but my aunt shooed me away.
“Go on out to the porch. You look tired.”
If people were going to keep telling me that, I was going to have to start wearing makeup. Maybe the morning sickness, draining me, wouldn’t last long.
“If you two don’t need my help, I’ll go keep Sarah Jane company,” Sylvia said.
She rose, and I viewed her face closely for the first time. A pang of jealousy assailed me. Sylvia looked positively glowing, her complexion flawless and her hair thick and shining. If indeed she was pregnant, it didn’t appear she suffered from morning sickness. Although by now she would have entered into the second trimester, if Laurie was correct, and the morning sickness would be fading away.
Laurie and Aunt Jenny exchanged a glance. “Go ahead, Sylvia,” Aunt Jenny said, with what sounded like relief.
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