sweet tea. -tkam

bored or busy.

-daisys pov-

Maycomb county was as pretty as a peach but I missed something from home. My house may not have been my home, but my old farm was. I felt safe on my farm, away from my father, away from the bad men.
    Surrounded by nothing but lush fields and gentle animals. I had so much time now to do things, and in a way it was nice, in my downtime I would cross stitch or sew, go on a walk, make some art, and other like things.
      But now, my life was entirely downtime. I know I shouldn't complain, but, my idle mind was longing for purpose. Nobody needed me, I had no tasks to fulfill, nobody to care for. I felt empty in a sense, but I was scared.
    I did so deeply yearn for a life as a housewife, but I was terrified of what husband may make me his housewife. I knew I didn't have the best judgement when it came to people in general, not knowing how to pick out red flags or protect myself.
     But I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want to be alone, but I was scared of making relationships.
      I leaned out my open window and indulged in the wildflower scented breeze from the overgrown fields.  It was only 1pm and I had done everything I had planned.
    It was nearing time for the kids to be out of school now, and I sat with a glass of wine  on my porch until they were.
     I felt a flutter of excitement in me when I saw all the children run out of the schoolhouse at last, then feeling stupid for being so anxious to see my 8 year old friend.
     Sure enough, though Jem walked past my house without even a glance of acknowledgment, scout hopped up onto my porch.

"Hello sweetheart, how was school?" I asked, setting aside my wine

"Not very damn good" she replied. I covered my mouth, trying not to give her any reaction to cussing while I stifled a laugh.

"I'm sorry to hear that"

She sat on my lap

"Here give me that please" she said, motioning to my glass

"I've had a rough day" she reasoned

"Scout honey" I laughed

"You're 8, you can't drink wine"

She huffed

"Well miss maudie let me have a drink! In fact she got me drunk off her rum cakes!"

"Well, you're not supposed to. It's not good for you"

"Just a tiny little bit on my finger?"

I sighed and let her clean her hands and dip her finger in. To my satisfaction, her fact scrunched up and she spit over the railing of my porch.

"That's nasty miss daisy! Why would you drink that stuff?! It burns!"

I giggled

"I like it"

"You're a weird lady" she said, climbing up on the railing.

"Maybe"

"Aunt Alexandra says you're a whore lady, is that true?"

I knew people had been gossiping around town about me, but it hurt to know it was so much that even children had heard the rumors. I sighed, looking at my wine.

"No, no it's not true..."

"Lots of people say it miss daisy are you lying? I won't tell nobody."

I tried to give her a smile. She was innocently asking.

"I'm not lying. Lots of people say lots of ugly things. Try not to listen to them. They just don't like me"

She tilted her head and looked at me

"Don't like you? Why??"

I thought for a moment.

"Well...why I don't know scout, they just do."

She came back over to me and I set my wine aside, letting her get into my lap.

"Well I like you miss daisy."

I smiled, holding her head against my chest and kissing her forehead softly.

"That's all that matters, as long as the coolest girl in the world likes me I think I'll be ok"

-atticus pov-

It was now nearing 2 in the morning, yet I was nowhere near finished with my research. I sat by the oil lamp in my reading room, reading over many books for my case.
     Court journals and reports, case rulings, Alabama law, and other like things to support my case.
     The courthouse had a law library I borrowed my sources from, though I couldn't stay. I was exhausted both physically and mentally, but k had to persevere for the sake of my case.
     It was a controversial case in itself, and that made it vastly harder to find accounts and records to back up my claims.
    It's a moral issue, and morality isn't always something that can be cut and dry measured. For many years, humanity and morality has not mattered in the case of colored folk.
     To many, at least. And though I cared deeply for the lives of any individual, and hoped to see a civil and equal society one day, as a lawyer, it was very hard to lead with a claim that many people don't care about.
      It would have been easier to decline the appointment, and take another case, maybe even another case that isn't criminal law.    
      However, I couldn't morally justify saying no. Nobody seeks out a lawyer unless they need help, so I see many people at their worst, and it's my job to help them and provide them with a chance at a normal life.
      I help people, not just white people. So if my client happens to be a black man, I see no reason why I should decline him simply because it will be harder for me to persuade the jury.
     The light was flickering softly, illuminating the dusty spines of old books while I read. Hours later I dimmed the lamp and shut my book, peeking into scouts room, and then jems. They slept peacefully in their beds, all being well with them.
       I felt horrible about how busy I was, and hoped they knew I loved them. I hoped they knew that even if I was very busy, they were my first priority.
     My light softly lit scouts wall, and on it I saw a crayon drawing of her and miss daisy, picturing daisy holding her hand while they had some kind of dessert outside.
    I smiled to myself, scout did like that miss daisy an awful lot.