The Blossom Sisters (16 page)

“That's easy. The fascinators. We have so many orders we can't fill because the feathers are so hard to work with. I'm thinking this is a bit of a fad, so we want to cash in now while they're so popular. I forgot to tell you yesterday that one of our new staff had a great idea. A freebie. A good-luck charm, a talisman, if you will. A faux-jade four-leaf clover. Sonia even knew where we could order them in bulk. Violet placed the order last night for overnight delivery today. We plan to mail them to all past and current customers. A goodwill gesture you can call it. Personally, I jumped at the idea.”

“There you go again, massive mailing. All the more reason to use UPS, as they will pick up the packages. You also need a postage meter.”

“Okay, I'll put that on my list,” Rose said. “I'm glad you're on board, Augustus.”

“Me, too, Granny. Me, too.”

“Okay, then, let's get down to the nitty-gritty and concentrate our efforts on what we have to do to bring things up to date, where you can make the most money in the shortest period of time. We figure out how to capitalize on our people resources and make it happen. How long does it take to make one of those fascinators—those feather things? One other thing, Granny. Once the members of your staff become familiar with their jobs, I want you to rotate them. Each member of your staff needs to know every other job in case of any kind of setback—and there will be setbacks of one kind or another, you can count on it. If everyone knows everyone else's job, you won't lose momentum. Do you agree or not?”

“I totally agree. We can't keep operating by the seat of our pants. We all know we need structure and discipline of a sort. But to answer your question on the fascinators, it takes a half-hour to make them. Depends on who is working on them. Our fingers are not as nimble as they used to be. It's not an easy task, to attach the thin wires to the feathers. The wires have to be cut just right, so the feathers aren't bouncing all over the place. But we precut them, so we conquered that problem. The main problem, Augustus, is the coloring for the feathers. We've only had a few orders for white ones. Without a doubt, we could make a lot of money but . . .”

“How is your feather supply?”

“We have enough to fill our current orders. We have a long wait list simply because we didn't know if we could fill the demand. Like I said, Augustus, it's coloring the feathers that's our problem. It's dye versus spray and where to do it. We need ideal conditions because feathers are virtually weightless. If you so much as breathe on them, they move. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Actually, I do. Pastor Evans still has bingo nights, doesn't he?” At his grandmother's nod, Gus continued, “You know that big drum they use to turn the numbers before they call them? Do you think he'd let us use it if we made a donation to the church? I remember when Barney and I were kids, you used to take us with you at night when it was your turn to work bingo. We could use the drum to contain the feathers after we dip them in whatever coloring you decide to use. If the feather hats are a lasting sale item, you might think about ordering a new drum for Pastor Evans because the color is going to come off on the wire mesh of the drum. Fans will blow at slow speed to dry the feathers as they tumble. What do you think, Granny?”

“I think you're onto something, Augustus. You go over to the church, and I'll have everyone ready to go to work as soon as you get back. Do you want me to call UPS or will you do that and set up an account for us?”

“I'll make the call when I get to the church. Huddle together and figure out which will work best—dye in tubs or sprays.”

Rose rummaged in one of the kitchen drawers for a whistle. She gave it three sharp blasts, which meant, meeting in the kitchen ASAP.

Chapter 17

G
US DUSTED HIS HANDS DRAMATICALLY BEFORE SHAKING HANDS
with Pastor Evans. “Appreciate your help, Pastor.” He eyed the oversize drum that was resting in the back of the Blossom Farm van. He wasn't sure he could count on help getting it back out of the van when he got to the farm. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a man with a backpack walking away from his car, toward the entrance to the day-care and preschool center. He'd seen him somewhere recently but couldn't remember where. Probably the guy's kid forgot his lunch or his gear, and he was dropping it off on his way to work. Gus shrugged. In the scheme of things, it hardly seemed important. He put it out of his mind as he climbed behind the wheel of the van. He had made it as far as the parking-lot exit when his cell phone rang. He looked down at the number and grinned. Barney! He backed up away from the exit and parked while he took the call.

“How are things in Hong Kong, Barney?”

“Nothing much ever changes here. What's going on? Fill me in, Gus.”

“Are you calling me because my attorney called you to complain about me?”

“No. Why? C'mon, Gus, what did you do now to ruffle her feathers?”

“I fouled up, okay? I apologized, and I even sent flowers. I guess I hurt her feelings, and there's no excuse for that. I'm trying to screw up the courage to invite her out to dinner. A truce of sorts. What—she didn't call you?”

“She did not. You might as well tell me what it was you did. Guilt is a terrible thing. You know that. And . . . pal, that's another reason why you're in the position you're in now. Tell me, you'll feel better. It's called clearing your conscience.”

“I addressed her as Miss Fireplug. Jesus, Barney, it just slipped out. I didn't mean to say it out loud. It's how I think of her. I know I hurt her feelings, and I'm going to do my best to correct my comment. It's all those clothes, and, for crying out loud, she has
layers
of them. She drives a pickup truck. I try not to be judgmental, but it's what I see, okay?” The silence on the other end of the line bothered Gus. “I know you're pissed, Barney, and you're disappointed in me. I'm sorry.”

“Gus, she's a top-notch attorney. If she weren't, I would never have hired her. Did you ever stop to think there might be a reason she dresses like she does and a reason why she drives a pickup truck? And what does her mode of transportation have to do with anything, anyway?”

“You're right, Barney, I'm not arguing with you. I'm not even defending myself. She's my lawyer. I think I'd like to know she's . . . that she has a personality. She's like a goddamned robot. And she hates me. It's hard to be nice to someone you know hates your guts.”

“I'm coming home. I should be there sometime tomorrow night. No, I'm not coming back because of you and your problems.”

“Then why are you coming back? When you left, you said you were going to be gone
six months.
”

“I'm tired of making money. You seem to be having all the fun. I want to be part of it. All work and no play makes for a dull boy. I believe that. I want to be there to see you take your bus driving test. Tell Granny and the aunts I'll be bringing home some jade and some beautiful silk for them.”

“Come off it, Barney. You love money. You worship money. You eat, sleep, and dream about money. You'd rather cut off your left foot than give up money.”

“I didn't say I was giving up on money. I still love money, but everyone gets to take a hiatus at some point in their life. I want to take my hiatus now.”

Suddenly, alarm crept into Gus's voice. “You aren't sick, are you, Barney?”

“No, I'm not sick, Gus. I'm fine.”

Gus wasn't sure he believed his friend, but he let it go. “What are you bringing home for the fire . . . Miss Jackson?”

“None of your business.”

“What are you bringing me?”

“A whole new attitude, pal.”

Gus felt his blood pressure rising. He tried to shake off what he was feeling. “If you're saying in a roundabout way that you're coming back because you think I'm screwing up, just say it, Barney.”

“I told you. I'm coming back because I'm tired of just making money. I want to stop and smell the roses for a little while. And I want to help with Granny and the aunts, if you all want me. Listen, I gotta go. See you tomorrow night.”

Gus didn't bother saying good-bye. He just clicked off and took a deep breath. He shifted gears and drove to the EXIT sign. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the man with the backpack coming out the door of the preschool, when he looked in his side-view mirror to see if anyone was behind him.

As Gus drove along, his thoughts went to Barney and his return stateside. Without thinking, he made a left turn and followed a service road that would take him to the DMV so he could pick up a bus driver's manual. And then, when he got back to the farm, he was going to talk to Granny and ask her opinion as to what he should do next where Jill Jackson was concerned. Barney's words rang in his ears.
Did you ever stop to think there might be a reason she dresses like she does?
Well, hell, yes, he'd thought about it, and the only answer he could come up with was his lawyer liked dressing like a bag lady. End of story. And it wasn't any of his business to begin with. As to her mode of transportation, that wasn't his business, either. As long as a vehicle got you where you had to go, that was all that mattered. So why was it bothering him?

Gus shrugged off his thoughts as he parked, ran into the DMV, and asked for a bus driver's manual. He looked at it and shoved it into his back pocket. He'd read it tonight while he and Wilson watched TV. He wondered then if he was putting the cart before the horse. Where was he going to get a bus to practice on? Pastor Evans? Maybe he could practice in the parking lot. He'd ask Granny to intercede. There was no way he wanted to break a promise to Elroy Hitchens and the other seniors.

Gus pulled to a stop at a traffic light. Tapping on the steering wheel, impatient to get moving, he looked into the rearview mirror and frowned. Two cars back was a silver car. The guy with the backpack had been driving a silvery-colored car. His heart fluttered in his chest.
Am I being followed? If I am, is it because of Elaine?

The light changed and Gus moved forward. He didn't have time just then to try to lose his tail, assuming that it was a tail.
Watching too much
Law & Order,
or am I getting paranoid?

Jittery with his thoughts, Gus drove carefully, his gaze going to his rearview mirror when he felt it was safe to take his eyes off the road. If he was being followed, he hated leading his tail to Blossom Farm, but it couldn't be helped.

An hour later, Gus, with the help of several of the seniors, managed to get the huge drum up on the back porch. Seniors swarmed through the doors. They looked like they knew what they were doing, so he entered the house and sought out his grandmother. “I need to talk to you, Granny. I need some advice, and if you can spare Violet and Iris, I'd like to include them, too.”

“This sounds serious, Augustus. Are you okay?”

“If you mean am I sick, no, I'm not. I just need some advice. Female advice. I think we should go outside to talk.”

Wilson came on the run and waited for Gus to give him a good scratch behind the ears. Gus obliged. Wilson was the first one out the door when Rose, Violet, and Iris appeared.

Outside, Gus let loose with his problem. “Obviously, I know nothing about women, so I'm asking for your help. I don't know what to do. By the way, Barney is coming home. He said he's tired of making money. I don't believe that for one minute. He's bringing jade and silk for you ladies. And I think someone is following me. Probably someone Elaine has hired to keep tabs on me. You need to know that. If you want me to stay away, I can do that. I don't want to cause any problems for any of you. Private detectives dig and dig and dig. That's why they get paid the big bucks. This could mean trouble.”

Violet squared her shoulders. “I think we can handle interference, Augustus. I also agree with you about Barney. Now, as to the young attorney who is handling your divorce . . . you said she accepted your apology. You sent her flowers. You are thinking of asking her to dinner. I say, do it.” Iris and Rose agreed.

Gus felt dizzy as he tried to absorb all the advice they were throwing at him. What he walked away with was that he needed to be humble, complimentary. “And, Augustus, you need to listen and pay attention to what the young lady says. If you get stuck, go to the men's room and call us; we'll talk you through it.”

Gus felt like he was sixteen and going out on his first date. He'd been married, had relationships in the past, for crying out loud. If Barney were here, he'd laugh his head off.

“Where are you going now, Augustus?” Rose asked.

“To the post office to pick up your mail. I can do that every morning to save you guys time. Traveling to three different post offices takes time. I'm sort of surprised that you get orders by way of the postal service as opposed to the Internet.”

“There are people who do not have computers, Augustus, or even access to computers. People still write letters and put stamps on the envelopes. I know in your eyes those people are Neanderthals, but it is what it is. When you get to the post office, just say you're there to pick up Initial B Enterprises' mail, and they'll give it to you in a sack. Those sacks have to be brought back here. What is on your agenda for the rest of the day?”

“If you don't need me, I thought I would try to get myself settled in my new digs. I need to pick up a few more things and some additional groceries. I also need to pick up my own mail at the office and pay some bills. I'm just a phone call away if you need me to do anything.”

Violet sniffed. Of the three sisters, Violet was the most unforgiving. “I think we can manage, nephew. But, we do appreciate all you've done for us.”

“Thanks for your advice. I'll be back with the mail.” Gus waved as he exited with Wilson on his heels.

On his way to the Jeep, Gus noticed movement in the front yard; Mr. Younger and his sons working on the old sycamore. Gus walked over and looked down at the monster logs, which were being split into firewood. He asked about the part of the tree where he and Barney had carved their names. “It's right there on the steps, Mr. Gus. Your grandmother told us to save it for you. You can take it now if you want. Shame this old tree had to go like that, but Mother Nature is a strange lady.”

Gus was surprised at how heavy the slab of bark was. He felt his eyes start to burn. His index finger traced the deep carvings he and Barney had done what seemed like a lifetime ago. He nodded, picked it up, and carried it out to the driveway. He opened the back of the Jeep and settled it in the corner on top of an old blanket. He walked back to where Alex Younger was standing and shook his hand. He whistled for Wilson, who was sniffing the fresh-cut wood.

Ninety minutes later, Gus had returned to the farm and was unloading the sacks of mail on the back porch. As if by magic, three seniors appeared, scooped up the sacks, and disappeared. Talk about a well-oiled working machine.

Gus was back on the road and headed toward his office. He constantly checked his rearview mirror to see if the silver car was following him. He thought it was there, three cars back. He was certain of it when he pulled into the Target parking lot. “Well, have at it,” he mumbled under his breath as he bolted into the store and was back out in thirty minutes. “What'd you see, Wilson?”

“Yeah, that's what I thought. Okay, let's take this guy for a ride. Buckle up, Wilson.”

 

Elaine Hollister finished her coffee and headed back upstairs to shower and get ready for the day. She felt irritable and out of sorts. She'd spent a miserable night once she got home from Isaac Diamond's house in the wee hours of the morning. The intimate evening had not gone according to
her
plan. Isaac Diamond, even in his seventies, was no pushover, and he hadn't bought into her act. In her opinion, he was nothing more than a dirty old man who chewed up the little blue pills like they were M&Ms. She'd never worked so hard for nothing in her entire life, and only to lose.

She needed to get cleansed. Even though she'd scrubbed herself raw when she'd returned home hours earlier, it was imperative that her body be purified before she climbed the ladder to her altar so that she could perform her daily ritual.

The white linen gown felt good when she dropped it over her aching body. She shook her shoulders so that the gown settled more comfortably on her body before she pressed the switch that would lower the ladder to the attic. As the hydraulics kicked in, Elaine did her best to clear her mind so that it was as pure as her cleansed body. She took several deep breaths before making her way up to where her altar waited for her. At the last rung, her arm stretched out and hit the switch in the floor that turned on the lights in the attic.

She saw everything all at once, the boxes and empty mailers behind her altar, the overturned vase of white flowers, the roses wilted and already starting to turn brown. Panic rippled through her as she let her gaze rake all the tools that she used to perform her spells and rituals. Her hands trembled as she set the vase upright. She picked up the wilted roses, turned around, and threw them down the ladder. The petals scattered all over the floor, which meant that when she descended, she'd be stepping all over them. The thought bothered her.

Elaine turned and eyed her altar, her heart beating like a trip-hammer.
The cloth is soaking wet. Defiled. And I don't have a backup cloth.
She cursed under her breath. She'd had plans to perform two rituals today. Three, now, since she'd spent the better part of the night with Isaac Diamond. Bastard. How could she have been so wrong?