This chapter ended up being longer than I anticipated, so there will be one more chapter after this one, featuring the wedding.
Mr. and Mrs. Street, enthralled, watched the woman who was dancing with Perry Mason. If they did not know better, they would have thought that she was a movie star, rather than their daughter.
Clad in a floor-length, elegantly styled black dress, her hair perfectly arranged, and wearing thousands of dollars' worth of diamonds, Della allowed Perry to lead her in a slow waltz. Every few seconds, their eyes would meet, and, inevitably, a smile would pass between them.
They were not the only ones dancing. Paul Drake was sweeping across the floor with his pretty blond date. Lieutenant Tragg had asked Mrs. Mason to join him in the waltz. And both of Della's married brothers were gliding across the dance floor with their wives.
It was the best Independence Day the Streets had ever spent. Their eldest daughter was clearly in her element, and glowing. Their hearts had nearly burst with pride as they had watched her interact with many of the most important people in Los Angeles.
They were also amazed at the mature way in which Maggie had spent most of the evening chatting with the Los Angeles District Attorney and Lieutenant Tragg. She seemed to have wrapped both stoic men around her little twelve-year-old finger. Della had attempted to thank them for their kindness to her sister, but Mr. Burger had waved his hand dismissively and stopped her mid-sentence, saying jokingly,
"You give us too much credit, Ms. Street. To be honest, we happen to have ulterior motives. Your sister is clearly going to be an excellent lawyer one day, and the district attorney's office cannot afford to have another Perry Mason running around town defending criminal cases. But Maggie is still young and impressionable, and with a little encouragement, she might be persuaded to become a prosecutor, rather than a defense attorney."
"You are fighting for a lost cause, Mr. Burger," Della had said, laughing at him. "Perry and Maggie are already the best of friends, and she has admired him for many months."
"We'll see about that. Perhaps as she grows older she will come to her senses yet!" Lieutenant Tragg had joked.
"You two are pretty good at bluffing, but we all know that you are very grateful that Perry always discovers the truth, and sees to it that justice is done."
Mr. Burger and the Lieutenant could not deny this, so they just smiled awkwardly and went back to chatting with Maggie.
As the music faded, there was a faint 'Boom!' heard in the distance, followed closely by two more such sounds.
"The fireworks are starting!" Robert exclaimed, walking eagerly towards the balcony. All the guests immediately followed him. Pressing against the railing, they murmured their admiration for the colorful fireworks which transformed the Los Angeles night sky.
Perry and Della purposely meandered to the balcony last. Standing in the back gave them a moment of relative privacy. While their guests were busy watching the fireworks display, Mr. Mason slipped an arm around his fiancée and whispered into her ear,
"Happy Independence Day, my darling. I love you!"
Della's eyes misted over as they leaned in for a kiss. This year, those words had a double meaning. It was America's birthday, but it was also an independence day for her – she was free from the farm and a life in Treeland, free from the pain of thinking that Perry loved Isabella, free to speak about her success to her parents and siblings. And she was infinitely grateful to God and to the handsome young lawyer who had made all that possible!
….
Mrs. Mason stayed with Della and Maggie for the first week of July, which gave her a chance to get better acquainted with her future daughter-in-law. The two of them explored Los Angeles together when Perry was otherwise occupied, and they had some wonderful conversations, such as the following:
"I wish my son could join us for lunch this afternoon, but considering the jam his client is in, I hardly expected him to come."
"Well, I suppose you have no one to blame but yourself for raising such a responsible man," Della teased. "In all the years I have known him, I think I have only heard Perry jokingly complain twice about choosing criminal law as his specialty, despite all the work it entails."
"Oh, that boy was cut out for a defense lawyer from birth. He could not have run away from his vocation and maintained any semblance of happiness in his life," the older lady said, with a wave of her hand. "Did he ever tell you about the case of the chicken thief?"
"No, I don't think so," Della asked, leaning forward, her eyes shining with interest.
"Well, he defended that case when he was only eight years old."
"Eight?!"
"Yes, eight. You see, our family had a summer residence in the countryside, and we had a small chicken coop there. We let the hens wander around the fenced-in yard most of the time, until one day we noticed that they seemed to be decreasing in number. We started counting them, and, as expected, every few days another hen would disappear. My dear husband, rest his soul, was quite upset, and quite convinced that the culprit had to be a certain neighbor who lived about a half-mile down the road from us in a run-down house, and who had been convicted of shoplifting from the neighborhood store about five years previously. He announced his intention to go to the police station to report his suspicions and request that the neighbor be brought in for questioning, but small Perry would have none of it. He pleaded with his father to put it off, insisting that he felt that the neighbor was such a nice, reformed man and that it was extremely unlikely that he had committed the crime. My husband simply shooed Perry away, telling him it was none of his concern and to go out and play. Perry did go outside, but instead of playing, he walked every single square foot of that backyard looking for clues. And he did find several feathers which matched the plumage of the birds which were missing. Most people would have said that there was nothing unusual about that, but my son's sharp eyes noticed very faint streaks of blood on two of the feathers. He immediately returned to the house and began to insist that it was very unlikely that a human chicken thief would have taken the time to slaughter the hens in our yard before making off with them. We still did not take him seriously, so he secretly went to his father's study and helped himself to my husband's most prized possession – a bulky, heavy, tripod camera, as cameras were in those days. This he dragged upstairs to his room without our knowledge, set it up by his window, and sat there for five hours, waiting. And then, at dusk, the chicken thief returned, jumped over the low fence, and made straight for a white hen. Perry snapped the photo just as the culprit pounced. The next day, he walked the two miles to town, had the picture developed with his own money, and walked back. Entering the house, he proudly handed his father the envelope. When my husband opened it, he was greeted by the sight of a crystal-clear photograph of a large fox grasping the hen in its jaws!"
Della laughed for a good forty seconds, until tears ran down her cheeks.
"Perry has not changed at all in the intervening twenty-seven years!" Della cried out, patting her cheeks dry with her handkerchief. "Pray, tell me more about what he was like as a child!"
Mrs. Mason was only too happy to comply.
…..
The press soon got wind of the fact that Perry Mason was engaged, and begged and pleaded for interviews and photo-shoots with his bride-to-be. It was impossible for Della to even consider saying 'yes' to all of them, but at last, she consented to give a couple of interviews to some of the most reputable and respected reporters in California. Overnight, her picture and life story were emblazoned on the front cover of newspapers and magazines and even mentioned on local television channels. News of her popularity soon reached her hometown. And immediately, those town gossips who had for years looked down upon and pitied the Streets for having raised such an impractical, irresponsible daughter who had abandoned them and run off to the large city, suddenly began to praise and congratulate them on her great success and upcoming nuptials.
….
Maggie was as happy as a clam in high water in Los Angeles. She spent her days at the university's summer program, making a great impression on her teachers and peers. In the evenings she would come over to Perry's office, and as her sister, future brother-in-law and Paul Drake spoke to clients and planned for court, she holed herself up in the law library and voraciously read tomes on legal procedures. She also managed to endear herself even more to Lieutenant Tragg, who gave her a grand tour of the city's crime laboratory.
On the days when Della did not have to work late and did not have a supper date with Perry, the two of them would spend a quiet evening together in the mansion, arranging the new furniture and hanging paintings and telling secrets and laughing together. By the time the summer was drawing to a close, they had become as close as two sisters could be, and the house was a comfortable and ideal home.
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