#della and perry were distraught

[frommybookbook]

Paul Drake: Man at work.

[nicoles-story-corner]

Almost Home

Perry Mason series

Dedicated to @a-coverlet-of-roses

The warm summer sunshine filled the city of Los Angeles. Perry Mason, the prominent attorney, was walking down Sixth Street. His final destination was on the next block, the Brent Building on South Flower Street. The sounds of the city filled the lawyer’s senses. The sounds of traffic as cars flowed down the street. The sound of various voices of passersbys. Sounds were like there was always a silent hum around the city. Perry found this hum comforting. As he walked down the city street, his vacation suitcase in his hand,  the familiar hum was all around the attorney. He knew just about everyone that was a regular on these streets. 

First there was Ms. Conti with her flower cart. Perry often surprised Della with flowers. He always enjoyed her smile when she saw them on her desk. Because he enjoyed that smile so much, he had gotten to know Ms. Conti. She always knew what was the best flower to sell to him. As Perry passed the cart today, he stopped when he saw a beautiful bouquet of bright summer flowers. Before he could open his mouth, Ms. Conti was already wrapping up the flowers. He smiles and thanks her. 

Making his way up the street, the lawyer passed by Mr. Jones’ sandwich shop. The sandwich shop was the only place around open late. It was also Paul’s favorite place to eat. As Perry usually worked late and Paul was usually hungry, he frequented the sandwich shopped. As he passed by the large windows, he saw Mr. Jones inside sweeping up the floor, the man saw Perry and waved at him through the large window. Perry smiled and waved back. 

As he reached the corner he passed by the small corner store, another godsend on late nights. The store was owned and ran by Mr. Wallen. The store always had the smell of fresh bread wafting from it’s windows. Perry took a deep breath and inhaled the wonderful, comforting scent. The store owner was outside stocking the produce as Perry passed. As the lawyer passed Mr. Wallen tossed him an apple. Perry caught the apple and thanked the man with a nod. 

When the lawyer rounded the corner onto South Flower Street, he could see Paul and Della waiting for him by his car that was parked in front of the Brent Building, the ragtop was down. Both were dressed in comfortable clothes. Paul was packing up the car with suitcases while Della supervised while sitting on the edge of the car, enjoying the sunshine. The lawyer caught the detectives line of sight as he walked up the street. 

“Perry, hurry up.” Paul hollered. 

A smile crept onto Perry’s face as he approached the two people who he loved most in the world. As he was almost to  them a sharp voice startled him. 

“Wake up.” 

Perry woke up with a start. He realized that he was not on South Flower Street. He was at his desk. Lifting his head, he rubbed his eyes. 

“I was afraid you were dead.” He heard Hamiliton Berger next to him. 

“I wish you had left me alone.” Perry tells the other attorney. 

Perry stood up from his desk, his knees ached as he stood. Age had not been kind to him. Not that he cared. Ever since the accident in 1965, he had stopped caring. Life became going through the motions. On August 1, 1965, Perry had been working late and it had taken it out of Della. Wanting her to rest but not having time to take her home, he had asked his best friend, Paul, to take his secretary home. Paul had tried to get Perry to go with them but Perry refused. Not an hour later a distraught Tragg and Berger had entered his office, the looks on their faces let Perry know that the woman he loved and his best friend never made it to Della’s place. A drunk driver was traveling in the wrong lane and had hit Paul’s car head on at a dangerously high speed. Perry would never forget the tears in Tragg’s voice as he told him that Paul and Della were dead. 

It was now 1975, he was 58 years old but his body felt 70. Perry had continued to practice law. It was the only thing that kept him from taking his own life. He could never shake the guilt that plagued him. He turns to Hamiliton. 

“I was walking down Sixth Street. I had just bought Della flowers.” He tells Hamiliton. “I could hear the hum of the city. Mr. Jones was in the deli, Mr. Wallen was at his store. I was coming around the corner when you grabbed my arm.”

Tears pricked at his eyes. It had felt so real. He could smell the bread. He could feel the warmth of the sun. He could taste the apple from Mr. Wallen. What a cruel trick that was all just a dream.

Perry settled onto the couch, Hamilton sat next to him with a cup of coffee. Perry takes the cup. As he blinked away tears he continued. 

“I could see them. They were there. They were real.” Perry told him. 

Hamilton put his hand on Perry’s back. 

“Man, I wish you had left me alone.” Perry explained. “I was almost home.” 

“I’m sorry I had to wake you.” Hamilton said. “But you shouldn’t sleep at your desk.” 

“If you had left me alone, I would be driving. I would be listening to Della’s quips and her banter with Paul. I’d be hearing about how Paul was hungry. ” Perry said as a tear ran down his face. 

Perry knew Hamiliton meant well. He had meant well for the last decade. He had done everything he could to keep Perry from sinking. Perry knew that Hamiliton had seen the bodies of the two people that Perry loved more than anyone else in the world. He had witnessed what that selfish man did to those two innocent human beings. 

Perry had dreamt about Paul and Della before but none like this.

“I was almost home, Hamilton. It’s the closest I’ve been since July 1965.” Perry said unable to stop the tears. 

The tears soon became sobs. Hamilton put his arm around the shaking lawyer and pulled him into a gentle hug. 

“I was almost home.”