As they drove back in Paul's MG, Della said quietly: "Paul, I think I'm ready to try it."
Taken unawares, Paul had to swerve sharply to avoid ramming a parked car.
"Are you sure, Della? I can wait."
"No, Paul, tonight. I want to."
-X-
"Della, you were wonderful!"
"Paul, I've wanted to ever since I was a teenager. But I never had the nerve.
-X-
Perry Mason frowned. "Della, I tried to get you last night, but there was no answer at your apartment."
"Sorry, Chief. I was at… I was at… I was out with Paul."
Perry noted the dark circles under Della's eyes, and her slightly dreamy look. "Della, I've never interfered with your personal life, but if you don't take care of yourself, you'll get sick."
-X-
Paul's parting words were: "Meet you at the Club. I'll arrange for the Boss."
Perry Mason grabbed the telephone, knowing that Gertie and Della had already gone.
"Yes Paul?"
"Perry, meet me down at the Club Bluenote. Things are about to break wide open. I've got a table reserved for you."
"I'll be right there, Paul."
The doorman whisked Perry straight to a table near the stage. Perry spotted Paul up on stage playing the piano. Good cover, he thought to himself. And he waited for Paul to come over, or give him a sign.
Off stage, Della was having jitters. She had rehearsed, first during all those long evenings with Paul, and then with the band at the club. She had it down, word, tune and moves. She heard Paul's opening chords, and walked onto the stage, into the lights.
Perry started. It was Della, but Della as he had never seen her before. Della in a black gown, off one shoulder, with her hair styled as he had never seen it before. With a soft smile on her lips as her eyes caught his.
Della straightened up to her full height, and swept the audience with her eyes. Then she launched into Misty.
Perry had never heard Della sing before. She had a perfectly-pitched alto, with a vibrato that intensified the word she was singing. Paul's piano gently underlaid her song.
I get misty the moment you're near
As she sang those words, Della felt a sharp stab in her breast, as she had a flash of sudden realization. Her voice caught for a second. But then she heard the soft whispered words of the bass player, Joe – an old-time bluesman who had seen and could recognize pain.
"Miz Della you got to keep on!"
She recovered herself and continued.
I'm too misty, and too much in love.
She ended to applause, and dashed off stage, not trusting her control.
Paul joined Perry at his table. "Isn't she wonderful? She sang in a choir in her teens, and wanted to sing torch songs, but didn't have the nerve. The boys and I helped her a little. But I think it was who she was singing to that made it come out so special."
"So you noticed it too, Paul? You couldn't see her eyes; I could."
"I can read voices, Perry. She still loves you."
"If that were all, it would be lousy for you Paul, but better for her. "
"The problem is, she has realized that she loves both of us."