Frankie's Adventure, Conclusion
By Simahoyo
Frankie had been dating Adela for a while before he decided to ask her about her name. They were at the Robber, and Janie and Maura were giving each other the eye again. He shrugged. He'd given up on figuring out those two last year. Adela was drinking ginger ale-apparently her favorite of all New England's foods. He looked into her eyes, and they smiled at each other.
"Adela, how did you wind up with that name?"
"What, Adela?" She started to laugh. "I have my Dad to thank for that one. He is a huge fan of Earl Stanley Gardner, you know, he wrote Perry Mason? So Dad wanted to name me Della, after Della Street. Mom had a fit. I mean Della Street was a sex symbol. So they argued up one side and down the other, until she finally said, 'Only if you use the formal version, Adela.'. So Dad called me Della behind her back. And you can call me Della."
Frankie took her hand, still feeling the cold from the ice in her drink, then the warmth returning.
"I'd be honored."
That next week Frankie and Hennessy were called out on a disturbance at a very familiar address.
As they pulled up to the Hibernian Royal Arms (the dump) the front steps were covered by women, and a few men, waving signs, and chanting, "This building lets people die!" And there was Della, front and center with a bullhorn, leading the chant. Frankie smiled. (That's my girl.)
He felt the other cops surge forward, pushing, and yelling, "Break it up!" One pushed Della, and grabbed her bullhorn. Frankie was there like a shot, standing in front of her. "Hey, watch it. That's my girlfriend." Then Frankie put a protective arm around her, and as they walked toward his squad car, he murmured, "Mind if I arrest you?" She looked back at him, grinning. "There's no one else I'd rather have do it."
The End?