The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

And when they got to Monroeville, she instructed Myra May to drop her off on a corner not far from the square, saying that since it was such a pretty night and she wasn’t the least bit tired, she would walk the rest of the way home. Myra May was deeply curious, but short of parking Big Bertha and following Raylene on foot through the darkness, there wasn’t any way to know where she was staying. When she had time, she’d get the Monroeville switchboard—maybe Marybelle Ralston, who was on duty during the morning hours—to tell her whose telephone number she called from. Marybelle would know.

“Far as I’m concerned, we can hire her right now,” Violet said positively. “If you want, though, we can go ahead and audition anybody else who applies. It would be a good idea to have a list of people who are available if one of us gets sick or wants to take the day off. I’ve never been very happy with just Euphoria in the kitchen. We were too dependent on her.”

“I agree,” Myra May said, “although I wish Raylene weren’t so mysterious. I have a lot of questions.”

“Me, too,” Violet said. “But her private life is her business, isn’t it? As long as she does her job, that’s all we need to know.”

“You’re right, I guess,” Myra May replied. “Anyway, I told her what we could pay. She said she’d come for that, as long as we agreed that it was just a starting salary.” In a lower voice, she added, “I still don’t understand why such a talented and obviously experienced cook would want to work for what little we can afford to pay. She could go anywhere, even these days.”

“Well, when word gets around about her talent, the customers will start flocking in,” Violet said. She stood up, holding Cupcake in her arms. “When that happens, we can give her a raise.” With a smile, she looked down at the baby’s sleeping face, sweetly damp in the heat of the evening. “Come and help me put the baby to bed.”

“I told her that you and I would talk it over and phone her first thing in the morning,” Myra May said, getting up to follow Violet into Cupcake’s corner of their small bedroom. “She says she’s available to start right away, which means that she can help cook for the Kilgores’ party. Which is a huge load off my mind,” she added. “She has some ideas for the menu, too. Good ideas—things we wouldn’t have thought of. Things we can afford.”

She stood next to Violet as they both bent over the crib, covering Cupcake with a cotton sheet and smoothing back the little girl’s damp strawberry blond curls. She slipped her arm around Violet’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. She was suffused with a warm rush of affection for the two of them and with the feeling that their little family was absolutely complete and that everything she loved was right here in this room. What more could she possibly want?

Well, maybe one thing, she thought. Raylene’s questions had reminded her of how much she missed having a mother when she was growing up—a real mother, her own mother, not Auntie Bellum, dear as she was. It would be wonderful if her very own mother could see just how happy her daughter was.

“You could go ahead and call Raylene tonight,” Violet said, straightening up and turning away from the crib. “She might appreciate knowing that she’s the one we want, and that we have already made our decision. You might even offer to drive over to Monroeville tomorrow and pick her up—that is, if you don’t mind getting up just a little bit early.”

“I don’t mind getting up early,” Myra May replied. “But why don’t you call Joe Lee Manning and ask him for a list of houses for rent? The sooner she can find a place in Darling, the better.” She wasn’t crazy about driving back and forth to Monroeville twice a day. Forty miles a day was a lot of miles, and Big Bertha wasn’t cheap: gas was ten cents a gallon and tires were three fifty apiece.

“A rented house would be good in the long term,” Violet said. “But for the short term, how about if she got a cottage out at the Marigold Motor Court? It wouldn’t be fancy, but Pauline keeps the cottages clean and nice. She even puts vases of flowers on the dressers. And maybe we could ask if Raylene could get a discount if she’s going to stay there for three or four nights.”