Rufus dipped his chin and smiled. “Thank you.”
Aware of the minutes ticking away, I glanced over my shoulder toward Mama’s booth and back at Rufus, who was still paging through the album. “It’s okay. I’m just wondering if you remember the ring in the picture? Or the name of the couple?” I asked, eager to make a connection between the ring and Chuck Richards.
He squinted my way. “I can’t say I recall the ring, but I sort of recall the session. I believe it was sometime last month that they came by my office.”
“Do you remember their names?”
Rufus absently scratched at his head, sending red curls spiraling every which way. “Sorry. Can’t say that I do. I have a part-time secretary who does my bookings, so she deals with all the details. Plus I’m really bad with names and with all the couples that have been in and out lately, it’s hard to keep track. But I can pop into the office sometime tomorrow morning and see if I can find it in my records.”
Lynn spoke up. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’d better get going and reserve those seats in the Sundance Room.” Dr. Meyers agreed and assured me that she’d save Mama and me a seat.
I told them we’d be right along. Glancing Mama’s way, I saw that she had finished her reading and was sitting forward, elbows on the table, resting her chin in her palms. “Are you ready to go, Mama?”
“Sure thing, sugar.” She rose slowly from the table and started my way.
“Excuse me,” I said to Rufus, scurrying over to give Mama a hand. “Are you feeling ill?”
“Just a bit tired, that’s all it is. And a little stomach trouble. Been eatin’ too much of Trey’s good cookin’, I’m ’fraid.” She rubbed at her stomach. “Lawd, my guts rollin’. But I’ll be fine, hon. Don’t you worry. Besides, a little nightcap with Jim later will put me right as rain.”
Mama considered Jim Beam the cure-all for every ailment. “Do you want to head out now? I can give you a lift home.”
She straightened her shoulders and waved off my suggestion. “And not hear Pam’s readin’? No way. I’ve been wantin’ to read her book myself, just haven’t had the chance. I’m curious to see what the fuss is all about. Must be really good stuff, considerin’ all the fans she’s got.”
“You still haven’t read one of her books?”
Mama shook her head. “Nope. Not had the chance.”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. If Mama’s stomach was upset now, I’d hate to think how she was going to feel after she heard Pam’s reading. My mama’s forays into romance reading consisted mostly of an occasional sweet paperback romance she got from the library; she preferred instead to read science fiction novels. Which always surprised me, as one would think she’d be into the fantasy genre, especially books about the paranormal. But no, she’d always preferred science fiction. “I like readin’ about how technology could make things possible, things we could never imagine,” she’d once told me when I asked about her reading habits. “Fantasy is more about the impossible, don’t y’all think? Wizards and talking ghosts . . . who in their right mind would want to read all that cock-and-bull?”
Go figure.
We made it to the Sundance Room with a little time to spare. Dr. Meyers and Lynn had saved us seats toward the back. I settled in next to Dr. Meyers, Mama on my other side. Jude and Zach were seated a couple of rows in front of us. My stomach lurched at the sight of Jude. I hadn’t seen him since our little encounter at the author’s table.
“Everything okay?” Dr. Meyers wanted to know.
“Yeah. Just a lot on my mind this week.”
“Jodi?”
“Yeah, that. And just a lot of unanswered questions.” I sighed. “Ever feel like you’re spinning your wheels? Missing something important, but you just can’t figure it out?”
She nodded. “All the time. Especially in my business.”
“I bet. Lynn was telling me about all the good work you’ve done. I mean, the home for women in transition. What a wonderful thing!”
Dr. Meyers smiled and leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “Thank you, Lila. I’d love to show it to you sometime. I feel the more people that are aware of the plight these women face, the more willing they will be to help. We’re in need of all the community support we can get.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, most of our staff is volunteer, counselors who give their time, and we receive a few grants, of course. And the women, the ones who can, work and contribute what they’re able, but many of them are between jobs, or they have young children . . .” She sat back and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I promised myself I would quit doing this.”
I squinted. “Doing what?”