Pearl
“You’re late!” an all too familiar voice bellowed from behind a battered green, government issue, metal desk.
I barely had time to shake off the brief but intense interaction with the ruggedly handsome biker as I entered my boss’s office.
I typically wasn’t drawn toward the criminal element, but there was something about the man’s shaggy hair and leathers that affected me in unexpected ways.
I don’t know what possessed me to give him the time of day, let alone talk to him in such a familiar way.
“How can I be late, when I’m not even supposed to be here tonight?” I asked, carefully placing the files squarely on top of the desk.
“Law enforcement never sleeps. You know that, Grace.”
“I wasn’t sleeping. I was on a date, and you know that perfectly well,” I replied.
“I’m not sure I like that Waterford boy. There’s something about him I don’t trust.”
“You don’t trust anyone, and besides, my love life is none of your business.”
“Don’t say “love life” in front of your father, missy. It’s disrespectful. And I’ll be the judge, jury, and blessed executioner when it comes to who is and isn’t good enough for my little girl.”
“I’m not your little—”
“Don’t you sass me,” my father chided as if I was still six years old and in pigtails, thus nullifying my objection entirely.
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied in hopes of avoiding any further conversation on this subject.
“Good, now since you’re here—”
“Did you even need these files?” I interrupted. “Or was this just your way of calling me back into work? Or worse? Did you do this to bust up my date with Chas?”
“Little lady—”
“Sheriff Early,” I interrupted, “while I may be your daughter, I am a grown woman and an employee of Fulton County. I would kindly request that you not take advantage of our familial relations regarding my working hours. I expect to be treated like any other employee.”
“Like any other employee?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
“I would tell any other employee to do exactly what I told them to do, exactly when I told them to do it, or go stand in the unemployment line. And I would tell my daughter to tell her mother to stop loaning her all those damned women’s liberation books!
” My father’s face turned beet red and the veins in his neck bulged under his overly starched shirt collar.
“Will there be anything else, Sheriff Early?” I asked with a smile, doing my best not to react to his blowup.
My father ran his hand down his face and sighed heavily.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Please sit down.
I promise I won’t keep you.” His face softened as he motioned to the chair opposite his.
“I’ve been shorthanded around here and I’m trying my best to cover as many shifts as I can myself.
Greta’s getting older and can’t put in the late hours like she used to.
Besides, you’re the only one who knows where anything is around this place.
The truth is, Gracie, I’m a bit lost when you’re not around. ”
“I’m not going anywhere, Daddy,” I said reassuringly, although I wasn’t sure which of the two of us I was trying to convince.
As much as I loved my parents, I was ready to begin a life away from my childhood home and the entire city of Atlanta.
Everywhere I looked I saw reminders of my childhood.
Someone or something tied to my family’s legacy of law enforcement.
My brothers were both deputies, my dad was the sheriff, as was his father before him and so on.
And although, my father may not have expected me to be an officer, here I was with a degree in animal husbandry, working as a clerk for my father.
“Good, because I have plans for you in this department.”
“Daddy, you know this is all temporary until I can find work with a ranch.”
“You know who was in here tonight?” my father asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Elvis Presley.” I answered.
“Don’t be silly, Grace,” my father chided before continuing. “Do you remember the Hill boy? The one who received the Purple Heart last year?”
My heart thumped violently in my chest and butterflies formed a conga line in my stomach.
“Randal Urias Hill?” I asked, trying my best to mask any reaction, just like I always had.
Randal Urias Hill was the son of Hayes Hill, one of the biggest cattle barons in the state.
Our fathers would hunt together when I was a kid and I had the biggest crush on Randal that you could imagine.
He was clean-cut, polite, and oh, so sweet.
He was also the cutest boy I’d ever seen.
Cuter even than Ricky Nelson. At least I thought so.
Unfortunately, my plan to play it cool around him paid off a little too well, as I was pretty sure he didn’t even know I existed.
“That’s right! Randal Urias Hill. You always did have a great memory.”
“What was he doing here? Is he a cop now?” I asked, not surprised that a good kid like that would grow up to be a law man.
“No,” he laughed. “He was in lockup.”
“You arrested him? What for?”
“He was in here with his biker gang.”
The butterflies in my stomach stopped fluttering and then dropped dead. “What?”
“His old man called in a favor, so I sprung him. I hated to do it because the kid turned out to be a real punk, but I owe his old man, big time. I just let him go about ten minutes ago, but you should’ve seen him. He had long hair and a beard like some damned rock and roll star.”
“You don’t say?” My head was swimming. I couldn’t believe the biker I’d met on the steps was the same boy from my first and deepest crush.
“Some war hero, I’ll bet his father is just pleased as punch,” my father said, clearly pleased to have a moral ‘leg up’ on his longtime friend.
“I really have to go, Daddy,” I said, and stood to leave. “I’ll see you back at home.”
“Okay, princess. Tell your mother I should be home by—”
I slammed the office door behind me, made my way past security and walked quickly to my car.