The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

“Grady Alexander came into the office today on some property business. He said you’re going to the party tomorrow night with Mr. Moseley. True?”


“Not true,” Lizzy said. “I mean, it was true when I told Grady. But Mr. Moseley had to go out of town. So I don’t have a date.” As an afterthought, she added carelessly, “Which is fine with me.”

“It’s definitely not fine with Grady,” Verna remarked. “He thinks he’s lost you and he doesn’t know what to do about it.”

“Did he say that?” Lizzy asked, surprised.

“Not in so many words,” Verna admitted. “But I could hear it in his voice. You’re not going to see him again? You two have broken up?”

“Not exactly,” Lizzy said, and told Verna what had happened. She didn’t often talk about her feelings, even with Verna, who was a close friend—her best friend, actually. But the dark made the words come a little easier, somehow. And made it easier for her to admit that she’d been wrong.

“I wish I hadn’t agreed to go with Mr. Moseley,” she said. “That was where I made my mistake.”

“Mistake?”

“Well, yes.” Lizzy hesitated. “For one thing, I’m not sure how easy it would be to work with him afterward.”

“After what?”

Lizzy frowned. “After—well, you know.” She wished that Verna would be satisfied with one answer instead of always pushing for more. It was very irritating.

“After a few kisses—or something else?”

“Nothing else!” Lizzy said indignantly, and then subsided. “But a few kisses would be bad enough, wouldn’t they? Bad as in dangerous, I mean.”

It might be easy for Verna to work with a man she had kissed. But not for Lizzy. Grady had kissed her often enough—and passionately enough—and she knew how she felt afterward. If Mr. Moseley kissed her the way Grady did, it might be hard for her to sit on the other side of the desk while he dictated letters to her the next morning—no, not hard; impossible! She could never in the world pretend that nothing important had happened between them when it had. Just thinking about it, she could feel her insides softening and her cheeks burning.

“Liz, sweet Liz,” Verna said pityingly. “You do have a lot to learn. Not that I’m an expert when it comes to romance,” she added. “But if you’ve decided that it’s too dangerous to go out with Mr. Moseley, I think you should do something about Grady. He’s pretty unhappy.”

“He’s unhappy because he’s been taking me for granted,” Lizzy said, not very logically. “And now he knows he can’t. Or shouldn’t.” She slid back down on the bed. “Or won’t. Or . . . something,” she added, and pulled the pillow over her face.

“You don’t sound very happy, either,” Verna remarked.

“I’m not,” Lizzy confessed. “Not when it comes to Grady. I just wish he—” She stopped. She couldn’t finish the sentence because she had no idea what she wished. She was utterly confused and she hated it. Hated being confused, that is.

Verna laughed shortly. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to be even unhappier when I tell you who Grady has asked to the party tomorrow night. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but somebody has to tell you so you can be prepared.”

Lizzy pushed the pillow aside and sat bolt upright. “Grady is bringing somebody? To the party?” She swallowed. “He’s got a date with somebody else?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Verna replied. “He said he’s asked the former Miss Cotton of Monroeville. DeeDee Davis. Fourth runner-up in the 1930 Miss Alabama contest. And voted Miss Congeniality, too.”

The news burst on Lizzy like a bombshell. “Oh, no, not her!” she moaned. “Not DeeDee Davis!”

She buried her face in the pillow. Everybody knew that blond, curvaceous DeeDee Davis was the most beautiful girl in three counties. She was nice, too. And young—no more than twenty-five, if that. She worked as a secretary in the Monroe County Ag office. As agriculture agent for both counties, Grady no doubt saw her whenever he went over to the Monroeville office.

“Jealous?” Verna inquired gently.

“Absolutely not,” Lizzy snapped, dropping the pillow. “What makes you think I’m jealous?”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

“Well, I’m not.” Grady’s mother might think they were going to get married. Her mother might think so, too. But they were both wrong. Lizzy knew for a fact that she and Grady were not committed to one another, so there was no reason to be jealous. No reason at all.

“That’s good,” Verna said. “That way, you won’t be the least bit upset when you see them together tomorrow night.”

“Oooh,” Lizzy groaned, and rolled over to face the wall. Why did life have to be so complicated?