I hung up with Aibileen and turned off the television. Mister Martin Luther King Jr., he praised our book on live television. Missus Stein called me and told me what was happening. Man, that must have made waves back home. Life in New York has been so much better than in Jackson. I've been back a few times, to see mother, and once I went to Maison Blanche's with Celia Rae Foote.

Celia's nice, and I'm glad to have friends again. My coworkers at Harper & Row are quite nice, and I've gotten together with a few of the girls several times. I'm really turning over a new leaf here. I don't have to worry about Hilly, or Elizabeth, or any of the other League girls here. I miss Aibileen, but we still talk on the phone sometimes.

The new job is excellent, and pays much more than the Miss Myrna job I gave to Aibileen. The next day, after work, I sat at home with my typewriter, and wrote. There was a knock on my door, and I opened it, thinking it was Barbara from work come to pick up the story I was editing.

I opened the door and gasped. After all these months, on the threshold of my New York apartement, stood Stuart Whitworth. He held his hands behind his back, and kept his head down. "Hey, Skeeter." he said. I looked at him. "Stuart, what are you doing here?" He looked up. "I'm here to see you, Skeeter. I'm really, really sorry. I read your book, Eugenia. You... weren't trying to make trouble. Some of the stories were... good. I guess you're right, the trouble was already there. But your book was good. So... I'm back.' And he hands me that ring, the one that sat on the coffee table back home half a year ago.

"Eugenia Phelan, I love you. Will you marry me?" I smile. "Stuart..." "Will you?" I nodded."Yes." He slid the ring onto my finger. I smiled. "Stuart..." He folded his arms around me. "Yes, Skeeter?" "Thank you."