The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

“Sexy?” Verna laughed and tipped her newsboy’s cap forward, at an angle. “I’ll settle for jazzy, I guess.” The cap made her feel younger and livelier, too, she thought.

“Yeah. It’s funny how hats can change the way you think about yourself, isn’t it? Fannie made a big straw hat for me with lots of flowers. When I’m wearing it, I swear I hear banjos playing ‘Dixie.’ I’m right back on the old plantation, in a long white dress with a half-dozen petticoats, a mint julep in one hand and a fan in the other.”

“You’re right,” Verna said, smiling at Violet’s imagery. “I never thought of it that way before.” She glanced down at her wristwatch. “Oops—it’s later than I thought. I’ve just got time for a quick bite before I have to get back to the courthouse. Maybe a grilled cheese sandwich—that would be fast.”

She had barely gotten seated at the diner counter when Myra May was sliding a plate in front of her. A grilled cheese sandwich, coleslaw, and a pickle.

“Raylene said she thought you were in the mood for something quick,” Myra May said. “If you’re in a tearing hurry, we can wrap up that plate and you can take it with you.”

Verna chuckled. “You tell Raylene she’s been reading my mind again. I’ll eat this here, but you can put a couple of those oatmeal cookies in a bag for later.”

Myra May handed her a bag. “Already done,” she said with a grin. “Raylene thought you might want a snack along about three o’clock.” She frowned. “You look different, sort of. What have you done to—” Her frown cleared. “Oh, I know. It’s that red cap, and your new hairstyle. Makes you look ten years younger, Verna.”

“Thank you,” Verna said. “I’ll pass the compliment along to Fannie—and Beulah. They’ll be pleased.”

Myra May turned around and dialed up the volume on the radio, and the close female harmonies of “I Found a Million Dollar Baby (In a Five and Ten Cent Store)” filled the air.

“Such a swell song,” Myra May said. “Did you know that the Boswell Sisters are from New Orleans? They’re really sisters, too. Love their sound.” She began wiping the counter, humming cheerfully and swaying slightly in time to the syncopated rhythm.

The song had just ended when someone took the counter seat next to Verna. She turned and saw Alvin Duffy. Coloring quickly, she turned away again, thoroughly flustered.

But he was smiling. “Hey, I like that cap,” he said in an approving tone. “Looks swell on you, Mrs. Tidwell. If you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Thank you, Mr. Duffy,” she said starchily, looking straight ahead. She could feel the blush climbing in her cheeks.

He took off his fedora and put it on the counter beside him. “The last time I saw you, we agreed that we’d have dinner together one night soon. How about tonight?” Myra May had stepped down the counter to refill Mr. Lima’s coffee mug, but he lowered his voice anyway, obviously not wanting her to hear. “The Old Alabama serves prime rib on Wednesday nights. They really put on the dog, too. White tablecloths, flowers, candles, and Mrs. LeVaughn playing dinner music on the piano in the lobby.” He grinned mischievously. “Am I tempting you?”

The minute he began to speak, Verna had seen the corner that she had painted herself into. Yes, her investigation had satisfied her curiosity about Alvin Duffy’s personal life. But she now knew that he had lost the two people he loved most in the world and been hurt and deceived by two others, whom he had trusted. She was embarrassed to know what she knew.