Chapters (38)
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- epilogue
Why, indeed. I took a long gulp of cheap moscato, closing my eyes. I had a sudden inspiration. “You know what? I am taking you to lunch day after tomorrow, and I’m hoping you’ll get to meet your cousin Mel.” I glanced at my phone and saw it was after midnight. I stood and took our empty glasses to the kitchen, yawning. “I’m going to do a little research on my laptop. But first, I have something I should’ve given you already.” I went into my bedroom and placed Violet’s small stack of photographs atop her senior yearbook. It hurt my heart to think of parting with them, but they belonged with Deanna.
“Here,” I handed them to her, “I’ll tell you what I know about each one tomorrow.”
“Oh my gosh,” she said. “This is the most precious gift. Thank you, Ronni. For everything.” She began sorting through the pictures. “She was gorgeous!”
“Yes, she was. Gorgeous, glamorous and fascinating. Violet was unlike anyone I’ve ever known.” As I turned to go to my room, Deanna looked up and asked, “How are things with you and your mother now?”
“There are no things. I haven’t seen her since I was a little girl. She’s been in prison, but supposedly she’s out and living in Heflin. I have no desire to have anything to do with her.”
“Oh, I see,” Deanna said. “I’m so sorry. Goodnight, honey. Sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.” She returned her attention to the photos.
“Good night.”
twenty-four
VIOLET
Chet found excuses to stop by the Glenn home almost every afternoon: replacement wiring, electrical outlets that mysteriously failed, estimates for Doug to look over—one day he pleaded truck trouble and asked to use the telephone. None of this was lost on a wary Alice Glenn, but she didn’t know what to do about it. No one could miss the way Violet’s eyes locked on Chet the moment he arrived, or the way they always ended up on the porch swing talking and laughing before he left, sitting too close for propriety.
“What in the world are y’all talking about?” she’d asked Violet.
“Everything, Mama. We like the same movies and books. Did you know Chet’s seen ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ three times? He liked the book better, the same as me. He wants to see ‘Cleopatra’ when it comes out. He thinks Vivien Leigh is prettier than Elizabeth Taylor, though.”
“Everyone in the South thinks Vivien Leigh is prettier than anyone, Violet.” Alice rolled her eyes.
Yeah, except Chet thinks I’m more beautiful than she ever was, Mama. Imagine that, Violet thought. “That’s the truth. And all the women, including you, still have crushes on Clark Gable.”
“A woman could do worse.” Alice smiled. “You look good, Violet.”