The Darling Dahlias and the Eleven O'Clock Lady

“I hadn’t heard about Buddy Norris,” Lizzy observed, “but Rona Jean was certainly seeing somebody else. She got quite a few hugs and kisses from that guy, too.”


“Oh yeah?” Verna tapped her cigarette ash into the ashtray. “Who was he?”

“Somebody from the CCC camp,” Lizzy said. “He was wearing a uniform. Mr. Moseley and I saw the two of them at the movie house over in Monroeville.” Just thinking of it made her blush. “They were sitting a couple of rows in front of us.”

“The CCC camp,” Verna mused. “I wonder . . . Did you recognize him?”

Lizzy shook her head. “I only got a glimpse of him, but he seemed older than the other CCC boys. An officer, maybe.”

Ophelia leaned forward. “Let me get this straight, Liz. You’re saying you went to the movie with Mr. Moseley? On a date?”

Ophelia sounded so incredulous that Lizzy had to chuckle. “I guess you could call it that. But don’t go thinking romance, Ophelia. The movie starred Spencer Tracy, and we’re both fans, that’s all. You know that Mr. Moseley is involved with that girl in Montgomery.”

That girl’s name was Daphne. She was a very pretty socialite, very rich, and very divorced (twice). Sometimes Lizzy felt a stirring of jealousy—an unreasonable stirring—when she thought about Daphne. But she always reminded herself that while she and Bent Moseley were friends, as well as employee and employer, the two of them inhabited very different universes. Daphne was in his universe, and Lizzy definitely wasn’t.

“This CCC guy,” Verna said, frowning a little. “Did you get a look at him?”

“Or a name?” Ophelia put in eagerly. “I work at Camp Briarwood three days a week, you know. Maybe I’ve met him.”

Lizzy shook her head. “No name, and not even a very good look. But I can tell you that they weren’t there to watch the movie. They were . . . I think it’s called petting.” At first, it was amusing, but after a while, the kisses got so passionate that Lizzy had been embarrassed. She thought of finding different seats, but she was afraid that Bent—Mr. Moseley—would think she was being silly. She was glad when the movie ended and the lights came up.

Verna blew a stream of blue smoke into the air. “When did this happen?”

“Maybe three weeks ago?” Lizzy hazarded. “The movie was really worth seeing—The Power and the Glory. If you’re curious, you could check the Monroe Journal movie ads and see when it was showing.”

Ophelia glanced at her wristwatch and pushed her chair back. “Oh golly. Can we adjourn? I’ve got Sam’s baseball team coming for a picnic tonight, and Sarah’s birthday is tomorrow. I promised I’d take her to Monroeville shopping this afternoon. I have to stop at Camp Briarwood, too, and pick up a couple of things I left on my desk.”

Verna banged her glass in lieu of a gavel. “Meeting adjourned,” she pronounced.

“Sarah’s birthday?” Lizzy asked. “I’ve lost track. How old is she?”

“She’ll be fifteen—can you believe? She’s asking for a new bathing suit, and heaven knows she needs one. She’s getting . . .” Ophelia gestured with her hands. “Curvy. I’ll help you two clear up, and then I’ve got to run.”

“Go now,” Lizzy commanded, pushing her chair back. “We’ll clear.”

“And take the cookies with you,” Verna said. “They’re scrumptious. Sam’s team will love them.”





SIX


Verna and Lizzy Make Plans



A few moments later, everything was put away and the kitchen was in order for the next Dahlia group that would be using it. Verna stuck her treasurer’s ledger in her handbag and went toward the door. “Are you headed home, Liz?”

“Going to the post office first. I’m hoping for a letter.” Lizzy put on her straw hat, turned out the kitchen light, then followed Verna out the back door and waited while she locked it. “From Nadine Fleming—my agent.”