Morning Glory

'She told me she caught a ride to Calhoun.'

'Caught a ride-hmph! She drives that deplorable automobile you stuck together with spit and baling twine, and if she doesn’t kill herself before this is over it’ll be a miracle. She nearly killed Nat and Norris, to say nothing of the buildings she’s bumped into and the sidewalks she’s scaled. Why, a person’s rosebushes aren’t even safe on the front lawn anymore! She’s scared to death of that thing, but she grips the wheel and drives, mind you! Clear up to Whitney, sometimes twice a day, only to come home believing that you don’t love her anymore. Well, shame on you, Mr. Parker!' Miss Beasley shook her finger at Will as if he were six years old. 'Now I want you to consider how you’ve hurt her instead of sitting in here thinking only of yourself. And the next time she comes to visit you, you make amends!'

Like the grand jury, Miss Beasley offered Will no chance to rebut. She sailed out as gustily as she’d sailed in, leaving him feeling as if he’d just taken a ride on a tornado.

Back in his cell, Will experienced a curious reaction, a minute exhilaration. Elly… driving the car? Elly… rounding up witnesses? Elly… going into that house?

For him!

It struck him fully what Miss Beasley had set out to do, and in her own inimitable way, she’d done it: made him realize how much Elly loved him. She must, to face all those apprehensions, all those fears that had held her prisoner on Rock Creek Road for years, that had held her aloof from the townspeople, denying that she needed anybody.

In the wake of Miss Beasley’s visit, Will’s torpor disappeared, replaced by restlessness and a thrill of hope. He paced his cell, cracking his knuckles, wondering what witnesses Elly had found, smiling at the idea of her sweetening them up with honey. God, what a woman! He paced… and pondered… and thanked his lucky stars for both Elly and Gladys Beasley.

Within an hour after the departure of the latter, Will made a decision.

'Hess!' He bellowed. 'Hess, get in here!' He clattered his dinner fork against the bars. 'Hess, I want you to get a message to my wife!'

'Hold your horses, Parker!' came a voice from the distance.

'Hurry up, Hess!'

'I’m comin’, I’m comin’!' The deputy appeared down the corridor. 'What is it?'

'Can the sheriff drive out to my place and get word to Elly that I want to see her?'

'I guess so.'

'Well, get him on the radio and tell him I’d appreciate it if he’d do it soon as possible.'

'Will do.' Hess turned away but stopped and flashed a crooked grin over his shoulder. 'Miss Beasley can sure chew ass, can’t she?'

'Whew!' Will replied, running a hand through his hair. 'Can she ever! Tell you the truth, I was glad to be safe behind these bars.'

Hess laughed, took two steps and turned back. 'Everybody’s talkin’ about it. I’m surprised you didn’t know.'

'Know what?'

'About your wife drivin’ that car like there was no rubber rationing, runnin’all over drummin’ up witnesses for you, just like Miss Beasley said. You know, Elly and me went to school together and I was one of ’em who called her crazy. But people are sayin’ now she’s outwitting the Solicitor General. Drivin’ him crazy, wonderin’ what she and Collins will unearth in court!'

Will’s heart began to thunder with excitement.

'Could you tell Collins I want to see him, too?'

'Could if he wasn’t out of town.'

'Out of town. Where?'

'I don’t know. That wife of yours has got him runnin’ like a fox in front of a pack of hounds, checkin’ leads. I do know one thing, though.'

'What?'

'He got your trial on the docket for the first week in February.'

'So fast?'

'Don’t underestimate that old bird, especially not when he’s got your wife workin’ with him.' Hess sauntered away, stopped and grinned back at Will. 'There’s a joke goin’ around, only it’s not really a joke at all, it’s-' Hess scratched his head. 'Well, you might say it’s a sprinklin’of respect that’s about fifteen years late in comin’. Folks’re sayin’, 'Look out, here comes Elly Parker with her honey!’' Turning away, Hess added, 'Nobody’s sure if she really gave a quart of it to Judge Murdoch or not, but word’s out he’s the one who married you two and he’s also the one scheduled to preside at your trial.' With a last chuckle drifting down the corridor as he opened the far door, Hess added, 'I’ll get word to your wife, Parker.' Then the far door slammed.

Chapter 23

Elly didn’t come back again. But she sent a brand-new Calcutta cloth suit and a striped tie and white shirt with cuff links and Will’s military dress shoes all spit-polished for him to wear the day of his trial. And a note: We’re gonna win Will. Love, Elly.

He dressed early, taking great care with his hair, wishing it were shorter above the ears, returning to the mirror time and again to run his fingertips over his shaved jaw, to tighten the knot in his tie, adjust his cuffs, unbutton and rebutton his jacket. At the thought of seeing her again a wedge of expectation tightened deep within him. He paced, cracked his knuckles, checked his reflection once more. Again he ran his knuckles over the hair above his ears, worried that it didn’t look trim enough-not for a jury, but for her.

Staring at his own eyes, he thought of hers. Hang on, green eyes, don’t give up on me yet. I’m not the horse’s ass I’ve been acting like lately. After we’ve won this thing I’ll show you.

Elly, too, had taken great care dressing. Yellow. It had to be yellow, her color of affirmation. The color of sunlight and freedom. She’d made a tailored suit in gabardine as pale as whipped butter, its shoulders built up, its pocket flaps buttoned down. She, too, returned apprehensively to check her reflection in the mirror: she’d had her hair sheared so that when she appeared in public Will would have no cause to feel ashamed. Staring at her shaped eyebrows and coral lips, she saw a woman as sleek and modish as the pictures on the coffee table at Erma’s Beauty Nook. Just wait, Will, when this is over we’re gonna be the happiest two people on the face of the earth.

Sitting in the courtroom waiting, she kept her eyes fixed on the door by which she knew he’d enter.

When he did their eyes met and their hearts leaped. She had never seen him in a civilian suit before. He looked stunning, his hair combed with hair oil that made it appear darker than usual, his tie crisp, his dark face a sharp contrast to the white shirt collar.

He lifted his eyes as he entered and his collar felt suddenly tight. He knew she’d wear yellow. He knew it! As if to point it out, the nine A.M. sun had seen fit to slash through a high window and fall directly across her. God, how he loved her, wanted to be free for her, with her. As he moved across the varnished floor their gazes remained locked. Her hair, what had she done to her hair? She’d had most of it cut off! It was sheared up high on the neck and above the ears, with a side part and a fluffy top. It brought her cheekbones into prominence in a wholly attractive way. He wanted to go to her, tell her how pretty she looked, thank her for the suit and the note and tell her he loved her, too. But Jimmy Ray Hess was at his side, so he could only walk and gawk. She smiled and discreetly waggled two fingers. The sun seemed to turn its warming rays on him. He felt a great rush much like that he’d experienced in the Augusta train station when he’d seen her approaching through the crowd. He smiled in reply.

The woman to Elly’s left nudged her and leaned over to say something. For the first time he noticed it was Lydia Marsh. And on Elly’s right sat Miss Beasley, stern-faced and sober as ever. Her eyes caught Will’s and he nodded, his heart in his throat.

She gave a barely perceptible nod and a tight moue, releasing him to breathe again.

Friends. True friends. Gratitude swamped him but again he had no way to convey it but to nod to Lydia, too,