The Cotton Queen by Pamela Morsi

family,” he said. “I would if I had some. It’s always easier to work things out when you’re surrounded by people who love you.”
    I took his advice. I went back to Shady Bend Motor Lodges, loaded up our belongings and when Laney arrived home on the school bus, I put her in the car and we drove to McKinney.
    Uncle Warren and Aunt Maxine were glad to see us. They were so warm, so welcoming, I actually started crying.
    “Oh, honey, what is wrong?” Aunt Maxine asked me.
    I couldn’t tell her.
    “Is it Freddie and LaVeida going after custody?”
    I shrugged. She took that as a yes.
    “You go call Acee Clifton and see if he can see you tomorrow,” Aunt Maxine insisted. “You’ll feel better.”
    I did as she told me. It was so late that I was sure he wouldn’t be in the office, but he picked up immediately.
    “Hi, Acee, it’s Barbara Hoffman.”
    “Babs!” The tone of his voice changed immediately. He was obviously pleased to hear from me.
    “I’m in town this weekend visiting Uncle Warren and Aunt Maxine,” I told him. “I know how busy your schedule must be, but I was hoping that we could set up a meeting.”
    “The schedule is the schedule,” he said. “It’s always crowded and if I try to juggle it, my secretary will throw a hissy fit. How about lunch? A fellow has got to eat lunch and I hate to eat alone. We could talk there.”
    I agreed to meet him at a downtown café the next day.
    It was beautiful and sunny with just the hint of fall in the air. I was wearing a new dress. Aunt Maxine had cut it out and stitched it together that morning. It was just a straight shift in cornflower-blue with three-quarter-length sleeves. I carried a little white cardigan, but the sun was warm enough that it wasn’t needed.
    I got to the restaurant first. Doris Walker, a tall, big-toothed blonde who’d been in my class at high school was now working there as a waitress.
    “Babs Quarles, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” she announced far too loudly. I felt like every person in the building was looking at me. Perhaps because they were.
    “Hi, Doris, it’s nice to see you,” I responded politely.
    “You haven’t changed a bit, you know. You look just as pretty as when you were Cotton Queen.”
    “I was never Cotton Queen,” I assured her. “I was first runner-up. LaVeida was the Queen.”
    “Really?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “I’d have sworn on a stack of Bibles that I remembered you wearing that crown.”
    “No, but it’s sweet of you to think so.”
    “You all alone today, honey?” she asked.
    “I’m meeting somebody.”
    “Somebody like you want to sit in the back or somebody up here where God and all McKinney can see you?”
    She popped her gum and gave a big smile as she asked the question.
    “Here in the front window is fine,” I assured her.
    She showed me to a booth with a perfect view of the courthouse square and handed me a menu. I looked at it eagerly. I felt less queasy today than I had in a week. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one.
    “You know, I’m real sorry about Tom,” she said, more quietly and with a sympathetic smile. “He was a nice guy. I always liked him.”
    “Thanks.”
    Our exchange was barely completed when the front door opened and she turned to greet the newest arrival.
    “Acee Clifton. Good Lord, look at you!” she exclaimed. “You’re spruced up finer than a prize hog at the county fair.”
    Her glowing description did not, somehow, sound like a compliment.
    Acee actually did look very nice. For Acee, I mean. He was dressed in a very sharp-looking, tailored suit. The double-breasted style and pinstripes made him appear taller and thinner than he was. His crisp white shirt was contrasted by the long narrow line of a navy-blue necktie. Doris’s words had brought bright pink embarrassment to his cheeks.
    Doris sashayed up to him, and brushed some nonexistent lint from the shoulder of his jacket. It was as if she was