Johnette, Mary Nell, Patsy, Evie Lou and Frances joined them; they cried delicately and pried every detail they could about Johnny’s condition. Violet responded to their questions in a polite whisper, searching the crowd of students over their shoulders for Red. When she spotted him she excused herself quietly, leaving her court to update classmates about the queen and her injured king.

“Hi, Vi.” He looked exhausted. Violet experienced a brief glimmer of guilt for what she was about to ask.

“Red, I was wondering if you could take me to the hospital after school.”

He blinked at her. “Violet, I wish I could, but I have to put in an hour in the stockroom for my dad...”

She jumped in, “...and I’ll come help you. We can finish in half the time. Please, Red?” Violet turned her wide-eyed gaze on him, knowing it never failed to affect Sam Davidson.

“I guess I...”

“Great! I’ll meet you right here. Thank you, Red.” She pecked his cheek. “You’re a sweetheart.”

Violet hurried to catch her friends before the first bell rang. They escorted her into the school’s entrance, shielding her from curious looks and murmurs. Her homeroom teacher, Mr. Boshell, led the class in a prayer for Johnny and his family after the Pledge of Allegiance. She was consoled, pitied and comforted everywhere she went; several people offered cards to deliver to the hospital. Miss Gerrity allowed her an extra day to turn in her biology homework. Violet smiled and assured everyone Johnny would be back soon. Anything else was unthinkable.

Red was waiting for her after school, arms crossed and impatient. “We really need to get going, Violet. I’m probably going to be in big trouble for driving to Birmingham, and if Dad finds out I let you in the stockroom, I’ll be killed.”

She tilted her chin down and made her eyes as big as possible, gazing into his. “I would never do anything to get you in trouble, Red. Maybe I can find someone else to take me.” Her lower lip quivered slightly. “My parents are mad at me, Johnny needs me, I’m terribly behind in my schoolwork...I just don’t know what to do.” A fat tear traced her cheek, and Red reached to swipe it with his thumb.

“Come on,” he said, sweeping the car door open for her, “no need for tears. Everything’s all right. Please don’t cry.” He hated the effect Violet’s emotional displays had on him, hated the mental image of himself as a fish hopelessly hooked. Not even a sporting fish with fight...a weakened minnow.

The drive down Quintard Avenue was short. Violet smiled at the beautiful azaleas and graceful oak trees; the spectacular Victorian homes lining the street. She adored her town, and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.