? ? ?
FROM THE MOMENT she stepped through Mr. Reason’s front door it was clear to Sophie that a quiet conversation would not be easy to achieve. Nobody could have a discussion in the middle of a gathering like this, people celebrating a new baby and—as she learned shortly—a wedding-to-be. Mr. Reason’s grandson Michael had brought his girl home with him to announce their engagement.
So Sophie let herself be propelled to the table that stretched from one room into another, given a place of honor next to Mrs. Reason, and plied with food and iced tea until she began to worry about belching in public. Through all that she was introduced, again and again, answering questions and asking her own, telling the story of Mr. Reason’s sprained ankle.
The Reasons had so many children and grandchildren and they were all so full of energy and curiosity that Sophie’s excellent memory was quickly overtaxed. She could only be glad that half the family was missing. More unusual than the size of the Reason family was the fact that so far she had counted two sets of twins and one set of triplets. When she remarked on this, everyone looked at Mr. Reason.
“I stuttered as a boy.” It clearly was a set piece, because the whole room erupted into a chiding laughter.
When the table had been cleared and the younger family members were bringing in pies and coffee, Mrs. Reason leaned closer to Sophie. “I’m so glad you finally found your way over here to see us,” she said. “But am I right in thinking you have some business to discuss with my husband?”
Sophie nodded.
“Are you in a hurry to get back to the city?”
“Not a hurry,” Sophie said. “But before dusk.”
“Well, then,” Mrs. Reason said. “We’ll have us some pie, and then I’d like you to come meet my newest grandbaby and her mama, my youngest daughter.”
The invitation was not for Sophie as a physician or a midwife, but because Mrs. Reason considered her a family friend. It was such an unusual turn of events that Sophie was confused for a single instant, and then she smiled. She said, “I like pie and I would love to meet your daughter.”
As if Mrs. Reason had snapped her fingers to make it so, the men disappeared and Sophie spent the rest of the afternoon with daughters, daughters-in-law, granddaughters, and small children of both sexes, all of them talking to each other and to Sophie. The littlest were too shy to approach her but sent coy looks and grins. When the little girls got carried away, a look from their grandmother was enough to calm them down, but Mrs. Reason’s daughters-in-law were not so easily subdued. They teased each other to the point of helpless laughter and stamping feet and mock outrage.
Althea was the second youngest of Mrs. Reason’s children. “I about gave up hope for a girl,” Mrs. Reason said. “Already had my first grandbabies when Althea and Mary came along, the last set of twins. After that I was done.”
“She saved the best for last.” Althea snagged one of her sons to wipe his face, holding on to the squirming five-year-old with one arm and wielding her handkerchief with the other.
A knock at the door brought the news that the new mother was awake. Every one of the women would have stampeded to get to her first, but Mrs. Reason had seen that coming and forestalled it by putting herself in the doorway. “All y’all have to wait your turn,” she said. “I’m taking Miss Sophie in now.”
“And me,” Althea said, giving her mother a look that dared her to disagree.
? ? ?
IN A SUNNY bedroom that looked out over the fallow garden, Althea leaned over her sister to examine the sleeping baby’s face.
“Ten grandsons,” Althea said to Mary, “and you had to break stride.”
“About time, too,” Mrs. Reason said, coming around the other side of the bed to get closer. “Girl babies do dawdle along in this family.” With sure hands she scooped the bundled newborn up to cradle her against a substantial bosom. “Come look at what Mary made,” she said to Sophie. “Look at this beautiful child.”
Sophie observed closely, both new mother and baby, and saw no signs of distress or trouble. Mrs. Reason’s youngest daughter was a healthy woman, exhausted but satisfied with herself and her place in this world.
“What are you going to name her?” Sophie asked.
“Mason and me, we’re still talking about that,” Mary said. She tore her gaze away from the child in her mother’s arms and smiled at Sophie. “You’re a doctor. You catch a lot of babies?”
“At least a couple times a week,” Sophie said. “But I also treat women and children more generally.”
“Didn’t even know there was colored woman doctors.”
“More of us every year,” Sophie said. “Maybe your daughter will be one too.”
Mary looked directly startled at the idea, and then amused. “Could be,” she said. “No children of your own yet?”