The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree

“It’s worth what you paid for it,” Verna said carelessly. She looked back over her shoulder at the drugstore. “Listen, Liz—how about if we get together after work and walk over to the Limas’ house?”


“Why? If Mr. Lima is out of town, Mrs. Lima probably went with him. If she didn’t, she likely won’t talk to us. If they’re both gone, it’ll be a waste of time.”

“Maybe,” Verna said. “But you never know. We might learn something. You don’t have to come along, of course. I just thought—”

“No, that’s okay,” Lizzy said. “Give me a call or stop by the office when you’re finished for the day, and I’ll go with you.” She grinned. “You know, Clyde is really cute. Does he have a brother?”





FIFTEEN


Mr. Moseley Makes an Unexpected Proposition When Lizzy got back to the office, Mr. Moseley’s office door was propped open. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped on an open desk drawer, eating a sandwich. There was a brown bottle on the desk beside him, and a glass. Whiskey. Lizzy knew that he kept a bottle and a couple of glasses in his office, to be able to have a drink with friends when they dropped in. She had never seen him drink alone.

“Liz,” he called. “Could you come in here for a few minutes, please?”

Hurriedly, Lizzy picked up her steno pad and pencil. She went into his office and sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. She couldn’t help thinking of that invoice from Ettlinger’s, but she wasn’t going to bring that up. It would likely provoke a worse storm than this morning. But there was something else she needed to ask.

“Have you heard anything about Alice Ann Walker, Mr. Moseley? I heard that she’s being questioned about embezzlement at the bank, but I really don’t think—”

He shook his head. “I can’t talk about that. It’s bank business.” He paused, tilting his head. “This gal a friend of yours?”

“Yes. A good friend. A Dahlia. And I just know she wouldn’t—”

“It’s nice that you’re willing to go to bat for your friends, Liz. Sorry. That’s all I can say.”

She sighed. “Okay, then.” She poised her pencil over her steno pad. “I’m ready for dictation.”

“I didn’t call you in here for that, Liz.” He swung his feet to the floor and gave her an apologetic half-smile, studying her over the tops of his gold-rimmed reading glasses. “It’s about what happened this morning. I am truly sorry for being rude. It was unforgivable. I apologize. And I owe you an explanation, as well as an apology.”

Lizzy was so startled that she dropped her pencil. “Oh, no,” she protested, bending over to get it off the floor. “Really, Mr. Moseley. Please don’t feel you have to—”

“Be quiet,” he said mildly, “and let me talk.” He picked up his whiskey glass, drained it, set it back on the desk. “To start with, I need to tell you that my wife and I are ... Well, we’ve been having our problems lately. I won’t go into the details, but it’s possible that we may divorce. Or rather, I should say that it’s likely. Adabelle is in Birmingham, staying with her parents.” His lips quirked. “It seems that she is consulting a lawyer—her uncle. Her father is encouraging this, of course. He wasn’t happy when I left the legislature. He rather liked being able to brag about it. And I was a handy pipeline to the state capitol for projects he had in mind.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Lizzy exclaimed. She meant it, too. She may have once cared for Mr. Moseley in a romantic way, but as she had told Verna, that was in the past. All she wanted was for him to be happy. And nobody could be happy when there was a divorce on the horizon. She knew that for a fact, because the people who consulted Mr. Moseley about getting a divorce all seemed miserably unhappy. Another reason not to get married, she thought. It might not work out and then— “Don’t be sorry, Liz,” Mr. Moseley said. “Whatever happens is fine with me, although of course I’ll miss the children. The girls will be heartbroken.”

“Of course,” Lizzy murmured. She wondered whether this was true. Mr. Moseley didn’t bring the children to the office very often, but when he did, the girls didn’t seem especially interested in their father. They exhibited what Lizzy thought of as a flippant, almost disrespectful attitude toward him. It bothered her. She might be old-fashioned, but she felt that children ought to look up to their fathers—although it had crossed her mind that perhaps he wasn’t as attentive a father as he might be. He was often in the office during the evenings and on weekends.