The Darling Dahlias and the Confederate Rose

The members of the Daughters of the Confederacy went through the cemetery, placing beautiful wreaths of spring flowers on the graves of Darling’s Confederate dead. While they were doing that, everyone else took their picnic baskets and jugs of tea and lemonade and adjourned to the neighboring picnic ground for a huge potluck and musical jamboree, featuring all the local fiddlers and guitar players and accordion players playing old-time music.

The Dahlias, with their families, had commandeered several picnic tables in the shade of a pair of large sycamore trees. They spread tablecloths on the tables and put out platters heaped high with fried chicken and barbecued spareribs, covered with tea towels to keep away the flies. With the platters, there were big earthenware crocks filled with green beans cooked with fatback, creamy potato salad, Mildred Kilgore’s coleslaw with pecans, and Aunt Hetty Little’s stewed okra with bacon, tomatoes, and corn. There were dozens of deviled eggs and pints of pickles and gallons of iced tea and lemonade, and far more chocolate cakes and sweet potato pies than everybody could eat, along with Mildred Kilgore’s homemade strawberry ice cream, made with fresh berries in the Kilgores’ hand-crank ice cream maker. It was a picnic potluck to remember, especially because Miss Rogers couldn’t help bursting into tears every time she looked at the certificate honoring the Confederate Rose.

After the meal was over and the leftover food (there wasn’t much) put back in the picnic baskets, the men went to play horseshoes and talk politics while the women sat at the tables, chatting and listening to the music and watching the boys playing baseball in a nearby field while the girls played jacks and jumped rope.

Lizzy and Verna had just sat down together when they were joined by Myra May and Violet, who was carrying Cupcake on her hip. Cupcake and Violet wore matching yellow ribbons in their hair.

“Well, hey, Verna,” Myra May said, “I heard from Buddy Norris yesterday that there is no longer a warrant out for your arrest. Congratulations.” Buddy Norris was Sheriff Roy Burns’ deputy. He was sweet on Violet, so he hung around the diner whenever he wasn’t riding around on his Indian Ace motorcycle, keeping the peace. The sheriff liked to brag that Buddy was the only mounted deputy in all of Alabama.

“Word travels fast,” Verna said. “But, yes, Buddy got it right. The warrant’s been canceled.”

Violet perched Cupcake on her knee, fluffed up the baby’s strawberry curls, and retied her yellow ribbon. “Just out of curiosity, Verna,” she said, “how did you manage that?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Verna replied in a mysterious tone.

“She discussed the whole thing with Mr. Tombull,” Lizzy said. “It didn’t take much to convince him that Earle Scroggins had trumped up the ‘evidence’ against her. Scroggins wanted to shovel the problem under the rug so he wouldn’t look bad to the voters, so he jumped at the first explanation, which was definitely not the right one. What’s more, the way he went about it meant that his so-called ‘evidence’ would never have been admissible in court.” At least, that’s what Mr. Moseley had said when Lizzy told him about it by telephone. (Actually, what he said would have earned the ire of old Judge Parker, who never allowed swearwords in his courtroom.)

“That’s right,” Verna confirmed. “After Mr. Tombull thought about it, he said he’d have Scroggins cancel the warrant.” She grinned. “Scroggins wasn’t very happy about that, but he did it.”

Myra May propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “This is not to be repeated,” she said in a low voice, “but I hear that the commissioners are going to tell Mr. Scroggins that he has to step down as acting treasurer. He’ll keep his job as probate clerk, because that’s an elected office. But he’s finished as treasurer.”

Lizzy and Verna exchanged startled glances. “You’re kidding,” Verna said incredulously. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Just never you mind,” Myra May said loftily, and Violet busied herself playing pat-a-cake with Cupcake. Lizzy knew that it had been overheard on the switchboard.

“Well, I guess I’m not surprised,” Verna said after a moment. “I had to tell Mr. Tombull the whole thing, which included that business with Coretta Cole. It was obvious that Scroggins was using her to set a trap for me. I don’t blame Coretta—her family needed money and she did what she had to in order to get it. And she signaled her ulterior motive strongly enough to raise our suspicions—Liz’s and mine, I mean.”

“That’s true,” Lizzy said. “The way Coretta acted, neither of us felt we were able to trust her. The more I’ve thought about it, the more I think it was deliberate. She was letting us see that she couldn’t be straight with us.”