Making her way outside, she scanned the pick-up/drop-off lanes for her mother’s maroon Mercedes. Her mother pulled up to the curb. Jumping out, she ran around the front of the car. Embracing Stella, Miranda Murphy held onto her, clutching her tightly, for what seemed like an eternity to Stella. Stella interrupted, “Mom?”
Her mother looked perfect, as usual. Her stylish bob was shiny and had recently been dyed back to its natural color, black. She was on trend with her skinny jeans, riding boots, and black turtleneck sweater. The only exception being the tears streaming down her face. “I’m so ecstatic to see you. I’ve wanted to hug you for two years. Thank you, Stella. Thank you for coming home.”
Stella knew that her self-imposed exile from the state of Georgia had been hard on her parents, but she really didn’t know how hard until she saw her mother’s face. “I’m glad I was able to swing it this year,” she said, trying to keep it casual.
“Let’s put your bags in the back, I can’t wait to hear all about what has been going on. I know this year you’ve been so busy, but you really should call me more often.” They loaded her bags in the back and got in the car. The ride to downtown Norcross was about forty-five minutes due to her mother’s lead foot and the surprising lack of the typical Atlanta traffic. Her mother talked the entire way.
Stella’s dad was at the house when they arrived, he lifted her up off her feet a bit when he hugged her. “Baby girl,” he said.
“Good to see you too, Dad.” Stella said, grabbing her bag and making her way further into the house. “The house looks great.”
“Thanks, we’ve been working on all the flowers. Your dad’s been planting almost every weekend. It’s his new hobby.” Miranda put her arm on her husband’s shoulder, patting him teasingly.
“Gardening?” Stella looked at her dad with an eyebrow raised.
“Whatever,” he waved her off, changing the subject. “You want something to drink?”
“Of course.” Stella answered as she walked up the stairs to her designated guest room. Her parents had moved into this house after Stella left for college, so she didn’t really have a room there that felt like hers.
She walked into the soft sage-green room where she usually stayed. There were photos on the bookcases she’d forgotten were there. She picked up a wooden frame with a picture of her and Jamie, smiling and in love, showing off Stella’s engagement ring. She frowned and put it down. Fear spread through her stomach and she felt extremely hot all of a sudden. Could she do this? She walked around the bed to the pictures of things that had happened in the last two years: cousins’ weddings and baby showers. She’d ignored all of these family events and gatherings. Now she felt a little guilty.
Stella and her mother got up early on Thanksgiving Day and turned on music, made mimosas, and started cooking. They made the turkey, dressing, mac & cheese, and about ten other casserole-type dishes. Her extended family started arriving around 11:00 and lunch was set for 1:00. Everyone seemed sincerely happy and excited to see her. No one mentioned Jamie’s name, just that they had all missed her since she’d left for law school.
The only tense moment occurred when one of her favorite cousins’ girlfriend pointed at her ring and said, “I didn’t know you were engaged.” The entire room fell silent, waiting to see if Stella would break. She responded that she wasn’t engaged, then asked her cousin when he was going to propose, sending the conversation in a totally different direction. There was news of new babies, new husbands, and new girlfriends to fill the space that Stella dreaded. She smiled the entire day, barring those few seconds, happy she’d decided to spend Thanksgiving with her family.
Later that night, she and her parents sat on the back porch for wine and dessert. The weather was pleasant in Atlanta and they were enjoying the fresh air.
“See. Stella, that went perfectly. No one even asked you about Jamie. I hope you enjoyed yourself.” Miranda took a bite of chocolate pecan pie with ice cream and groaned. “I’m sure I gained ten pounds today.”
Stella inwardly cringed at her mother’s denial of the “the whole engagement question,” but wasn’t surprised she’d ignored it. “I did enjoy myself today. I guess it’s okay take a step out of my protective bubble every once in a while.”
“Stella, Patrick told me that you have been so busy this semester that he hardly sees you.” Her dad took a sip of his wine and looked at her, “School okay?”
“Just busy as shit, it seems like August was yesterday. I have no idea where the semester went. I only have one more week of classes, then we start studying for finals.” She put down her wine glass and closed her eyes.
“So, you think you can make it back for Christmas?” her mother asked hopefully.
“I’m not sure. Let me think about it. I was planning on spending Christmas Eve with a friend.”
She’d never seen her mother’s head whip around so quickly. “A male friend?”
Oh shit. “Yes,” Stella answered honestly.
“Like a boyfriend?” Stella’s dad asked quietly, looking over at Stella twisting her engagement ring around her finger.
“No, not anything like that.” Stella said with a smile. “He works at the bar that we go to all the time. They have this huge blowout with a buffet every Christmas Eve since they all have to work. You’d be amazed by the number of people that come.”
“But you have family to spend the holidays with, Stella, please. Will you just think about it?” Stella’s mother took another bite of her pie.
“Of course.” Stella would think about it, but a couple weeks ago George asked if she would be eating with him again this year. She’d agreed.
Stella’s mother dropped her off at the airport the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Stella needed to get back to get her reading done for the week. They hugged; her mother cried. “I’ve missed you so much. I know you are handling things like you need to, but please come home more often. I need to see you more.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Stella smiled. She turned to go, but then turned back around and leaned into kiss her mother’s cheek. “You know I love you. I’m doing what I can. I promise.”
Millie flew back on Saturday too, so they met at Finnegan’s for a couple of drinks before they had to spend all of Sunday reading.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” Millie asked with trepidation.
“It went fine.” Stella motioned for George to come over to their end of the bar. “Hey, George. How was your Thanksgiving?”
George smiled his megawatt smile and said, “Much better now that I see your pretty faces.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, George.” Stella smiled back at him.
“I probably ate my weight in turkey on Thursday,” he said rubbing his belly.
“Oh, I’m so sure you ate that much. I can see your abs through your shirt,” Millie guffawed. “I, on the other hand, ate an entire pumpkin pie myself.”
“I’m really happy to see you girls, you’ve ignored Finnegan’s for months. I was starting to get my feelings hurt.”
“It’s not you George, it’s us. Law school is kicking our collective ass.” Stella replied and took a long gulp of beer.
“Okay, my ego is very precious and needs to be stroked on a continual basis.” He smiled at them and then moved down the bar to help other customers.
“I bet you would stroke something on him continually,” Millie laughed.
“Shut up,” Stella said petulantly, but nodded her head anyway.
Chapter Twenty
Stella was hunched over her excessively highlighted Evidence book, while Professor Lightman started his lecture on hearsay within hearsay. It was all so confusing. She had taken to drawing diagrams. Her head popped up when she heard her name, “Stella Murphy.” Fuck. She looked up and saw her professor looking around for her. “A good Irish name.”
Stella bounced out of her seat, “Yes sir.”
“Okay so, hearsay within hearsay, pretty easy right?” he asked, grinning at her.
&nb
sp; “If you say so,” Stella muttered.
“Tell us a little about this case, Ms. Murphy.”
Stella recited the fact pattern and then went into detail about the hearsay problem. The prosecutor wanted to submit a business record with handwritten notes from another employee containing statements the defendant made, admitting to the criminal act. She was grilled by Professor Lightman, but had an answer for every question. After what felt like thirty minutes in the spotlight she finally sat down.
Professor Lightman walked over to the lectern and pointed at Stella. “You see, class, you must watch out for Southern women. They may sound sweet and innocent, but they’ll kick your ass in court. Good job, Ms. Murphy.”
A smile slowly spread across her face as she stared down into her book.
The next week Stella, Millie, and Davis sat in their reserved room in the back of the library to schedule study sessions and share the outlines they had completed. It was necessary for all the members in a study group to have confidence in each other. If they didn’t there was no point in having each other draft outlines for studying. Davis had taken the Evidence outline he received before the semester started and updated it to reflect the new cases they covered and information he believed was important. Stella was actually impressed. Davis was pretty smart.
“This outline is awesome, Davis, thanks.” Stella paged through it and caught sight of a picture of her attempting to kiss the professor’s ass, literally. “Very cute.” She laughed.
“Okay, so here’s the schedule. I have color coded the next two weeks of us getting together to study and what classes we will cover that day. Blue is Administrative, red is Evidence, and yellow is Tax,” Millie said, throwing the calendar on the table in front of each of them. “Oh yeah, the black bar on the day of our last exam is Finnegan’s.”
“Millie, you’re a freak,” Stella scratched her head and looked at all the time allotted for studying over the next two weeks. “Did you schedule in time for me to vomit and workout?”
“I left that for you to fit in yourself,” Millie looked at Davis. “El has a really weak stomach, you might as well know now. It comes up from time to time during finals.”
“Oh, you made a funny,” Stella looked over at Davis, who was trying to stifle a laugh. “You won’t be laughing if I throw up on you. It’s the real deal.” Davis held his hands up in surrender. “You should also know that Millie goes insane.”
“It’s to be expected, ladies. I won’t bore you with how awesome I am around finals, you’ll just have to see the magic happen.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Stella stepped inside Finnegan’s and took in the scores of people gathered and talking jovially. George stepped through the crowd, making his way over to hug Stella. “Merry Christmas, El.”
His dimples were on display. “Merry Christmas,” she replied. Looking down at her dress and boots, she was glad she had put a little effort into her appearance. George was wearing a red v-neck sweater, a green and white checkered button-down underneath, and khaki corduroys. She was wearing a tight black sweater dress with tights and her black knee-high boots.
“I’m glad you came. You hungry?”
“Of course.” Stella followed him to the buffet. “This looks fantastic.”
They made their way down the vast line of food to the dessert table. “Look,” George pointed. “I made a chocolate pecan pie, just for you. To remind you of home.”
Stella was dumbstruck. “Why would you do that for me?” She stared into George’s eyes, the green sparkling.
George smiled wildly, again drawing her eyes to his dimples, then to his lips. “Why not?”
They sat at the same table as last year and had a comfortable conversation, steering clear of anything heavy. George had not been hitting the bottle as much this Christmas Eve as last, she could tell. “Let me get drinks. I’ll be right back.” George got up and walked behind the bar.
An older woman, maybe in her early fifties, made her way over to Stella’s table. Stella had taken a big bite of pie, when the woman sat down and scrutinized her. After a few awkward moments, Stella swallowed and asked, “Can I help you with something?”
“You seeing him?”
“Excuse me?”
“You two dating,” the woman gestured to George behind the bar.
“Uh, no ma’am.” Stella replied, glancing at George hoping he would hurry back.
“He’s a good boy,” the woman said. “You better be good to him.”
George emerged from behind the bar wearing an amused expression, “Ms. Hershel, I see you met my friend Stella. Let me help you back to your seat.” He put down the beers and guided Ms. Hershel back to her table.
When he sat back down Stella was already halfway done with her dinner. She had eaten her piece of chocolate pecan pie first. They ate without chatting for a while. When she was done with her beer, she stood up to get another, “I’ll be right back.”
Waiting at the bar, she glanced back at George. He was staring at her. She met his eyes and smiled. She kept her eyes locked on his until she sat down across from him. It was several seconds before Stella tore her eyes from those green speckles. They turned up their drinks. George reached over and ran his thumb over her knuckles. Her breath caught. Buzzing started at her knuckles and traveled through her body. She looked at her hand.
Reluctantly, Stella looked into his eyes again. “I guess I better go, George. Thank you so much for inviting me. I enjoyed it.”
He responded, staring back, “Let me walk you home, El.”
He walked her all the way to her house, told her Merry Christmas, and again turned on his heel to leave. She called out to his back, “You know, Ms. Hershel was right.”
George looked over his shoulder, inquisitive. “About what?”
“You’re one of the good ones.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Thanks to the study sessions, Stella aced all her finals the first semester of her second year. It was true what they said about law school. The first year they scare you to death. The second year they work you to death. It is said the third year they bore you to death, but she hadn’t experienced that yet. She was just a few weeks into the second semester, but she was already behind in her reading.
Stella and Millie met to complain over beer, fish and chips at Finnegan’s, which had turned into a drunken bitch fest. They’d sat at a two-top table instead of the bar and complained all night. Millie got a cab back to her place and Stella walked home. She began her walk home, but turned around and went back into Finnegan’s. She sat back down at the bar.
George sauntered over to her and leaned on his forearms, his face inches from hers. “You came back.”
Stella’s breath caught in her throat for a second, then she nodded and managed to stutter. “Yes.”
“You need something?” George’s eyebrow raised, he never broke their eye contact.
“Just one more beer, I think.” He blinked at her and then stood up.
“That I can do.” He walked over and poured her another Bass, while smiling at another customer. It was a blonde. A pretty blonde. Stella felt something bloom inside her, it was jealousy. She was jealous of the blonde flirting with George. Fuck her, she thought. She quickly looked away and wondered where that had come from.
“El?” George sat her beer down in front of her and again leaned on his forearms position his face so close to hers. She closed her eyes inhaled deeply, his scent of mint and beer filling her nose. “El?”
“Oh, yes?” Her eyes popped open and she was instantly mortified that she’d just done that, smelled him so obviously.
“I asked if I can do anything else for you?” He touched her hand gently. “You okay?”
She pulled her hand back, embarrassed that she felt his touch throughout her body. “When do you get off work?”
His head tilted in a question. “I close.” He answered. “Why?”
“Oh, I was just wondering.” She was horrible at doing what
ever it was she was trying to do. Stella turned up her beer and finished it in two gulps. She laid cash on the table and smiled. “I should get going.” Stella took off down the bar and George followed her.
“You’re not going to say goodnight?” he teased.
“Night,” she waved without looking at him as she raced out of the door.
“Be careful,” he called as his eyes never left her back, until she was out the door.
Sometime later that night, she walked back upstairs and grabbed a bottle of water and guzzled it while standing at the sink. Stella stared at her reflection in the window and didn’t recognize herself. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed. Stella looked in the pantry to see if there was anything she wanted to eat. She wasn’t hungry, but her body was buzzing with an unfamiliar feeling. Stella went back downstairs and peeled off her clothes, snuggled into her bed, and fell asleep. She dreamed of George and not Jamie for the first time since he’d died.
Stella hadn’t noticed exactly when, but sometime within the last year George had begun calling her El. She liked it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
During the winter semester, Stella had been on several interviews for her internship this summer. Finally, right before spring break she heard back from the General Counsel’s Office for the U.S. Marshals Service. They offered her an internship for an entire year, not just for the summer. The amount of work that her second year of law school had required had taken up so much time, she really felt like the year was over in the blink of an eye.
Along with her internship this summer, she was taking one seminar class that covered Administrative Law in more depth. She was working for a government agency and wanted to know as much as possible about how the agencies worked together and the applicable laws.
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