Velma climbed out of Vesta’s Model A at the train station, leaving with mixed feelings. She would miss Vesta, and this was good – it meant the women’s rooming house had become home, and her pining for young urban days past could be put to rest.
Velma kissed Vesta on the cheek, grabbed her bagged new dress from the trunk and made her way into the station with nothing more than an overnight bag.
She’d squeezed into her bag a hostess gift for Scarlett. At the station in New York they’d hailed a cab and Velma unzipped her bag.
When she saw the custom glassware, Scarlett squealed. A little too loud, a little too long. The cabbie looked into the rearview mirror and hesitated in traffic. “I love them! Perfect for a late winter pick-me-up party!” Velma recognized Scarlett’s pre-party excitement, but wondered if there were more to her high spirits.