The Blossom Sisters (21 page)

Gus heard her laughter. “If you don't, I'll call you!”

The grin stayed on Gus's face on the drive around the corner to his house. He let himself in. Wilson raced to him and barked. Gus gave him a good scratch behind the ears. “Did you fold the laundry?”

“Any calls?”

“Three calls. Wow! Did you make the bed? I hope you tucked the corners in. I hate it when my bed is wrinkled.”

Gus laughed. He loved this game he played with Wilson. He listened to the three messages on his phone. Nothing he had to deal with now. He ran upstairs and checked the bed for Wilson's benefit. He laughed. “You're getting better, buddy. You need to work on the other side a little.”

Back downstairs, he made a pretense of checking the dryer, then said, “Okay, you couldn't get the door open. Wanna go for a walk?” Wilson ran for his leash and off they went. Down to the corner and around the block, not once but twice, so Wilson could mark his territory. Their evening walk took forty-five minutes, until Wilson tugged on the leash, meaning it was time to head for home and the treat that was always forthcoming after a long evening walk.

“Okay, buddy, let's go home, so I can tell you about my evening before I bust. We can sit on the deck and enjoy each other's company.” As they rounded the corner to their street, Wilson jerked free and raced for home, the leash dragging behind him. Gus gaped at the figure sitting on his front steps, a huge duffel bag at his feet.

“Barney!”

“Yeah, it's me.” He was tussling with Wilson but stopped to hug Gus. “So, how's it going? How did dinner go?”

“Come on in, we'll have a beer on the deck. I was going to sit out there and tell Wilson how it went. This way, I'll only have to tell it once. You just get in?” Gus said, looking at the huge duffel bag.

“Yeah, came straight here from the airport. I'm moving in with you.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I'm moving in with you. I like this house. I walked around and peeped in the windows while I waited. I think I can be comfortable here.”

“What's wrong with that mausoleum you live in? I only have one bed.”

“You just said it, it's a mausoleum. I can sleep on the floor. I'll buy a bed tomorrow unless you don't want me moving in.”

Gus shrugged. “Me casa, you casa.” He uncapped two bottles of beer, reached for a Pop-Tart, and headed out to the deck.

“Talk to me, buddy,” Barney said.

Gus talked and talked until his beer was finished. He walked into the house for two more and returned. “So, what do you think? I want to know more about your return and the decision you made to give up making money.”

The two old friends talked into the wee hours of the morning. A parade of beer bottles lined the table, yet neither man was drunk. “Why didn't you tell me about the fire and her scars? It doesn't make a difference, but I wish you had told me. Maybe if you had, I wouldn't feel like such an ass.”

“It wasn't my place to tell you. Just so you know, Jill never even told me. It was in her background check. You need to give some thought, now, to perhaps hiring a new lawyer if you plan on seeing her on a social basis. I'm sure she's already working on that herself, but it won't look good, especially if Elaine gets wind of it.” Gus nodded.

Gus told Barney about Jill's phone call from the Diamond law firm. “I guess that puts things on hold, at least for the moment. What do you think, Barney?”

“Big white-shoe firm. Big retainers, all about billing. I think they charge something like five hundred dollars an hour. At least that's what I heard, but it was awhile back. I guess my question is, where did Elaine get that kind of money to sign on with them?”

“I don't know, Barney. Elaine always kept her finances separate from mine. We shared
my
income, though. Don't say it. That's the way marriage is supposed to be, it's all about sharing. You're one, so to speak.”

Barney snorted. “Too bad Elaine didn't think the same way you did.”

“Yeah. Come on, let's go to bed. We need to be at the farm early in the morning.”

Upstairs in the bedroom, Barney looked at the bed and the covers.

“Wilson's job is to make the bed. He's getting better at it. He thinks he just has to do my side. If you sweet-talk him, he might let you sleep with him in his bed.”

Barney started to laugh and couldn't stop. “See, this is why I didn't want to go back to my house; it's no fun there.”

Gus snapped his fingers. Wilson was on the bed in a heartbeat.

Barney eyed the dog bed. Dog hairs by the boatload. What the hell. “Does Wilson have fleas?”

Wilson reared up and let loose with a yowl of outrage.

“Guess that answers your question,” Gus said as he punched his pillow to fluff it up, then turned off the light.

Gus's last conscious thought before he fell asleep was that he would dream about Jill Jackson.

Chapter 22

T
HE SUN WAS JUST STARTING TO CREEP FROM THE HORIZON
when the black candle on Elaine Hollister's altar flickered for the final time. The green candle was just a pool of melted wax in the little dish. She'd been sitting at her altar in her high-priestess robe for twelve hours, chanting, slipping in and out of what she thought of as a trance. She folded her hands into a steeple, bowed her head, and rose to her feet. She uttered one last chant before she ended her night-long vigil. She didn't move as she waited to see if any thoughts or visions would come to her. She wasn't sure in her own mind if she should pack up her altar or leave it as it was until she returned from her visit to the hospital to see Isaac Diamond. She needed a sign. She'd come too far and didn't want to make a rash mistake for lack of patience.

Elaine stood statue still until the sun's early morning rays crept through the slats of the plantation shutters covering the dining-room windows, straight across to her altar in thin stripes. Seeing the stripes of sun on the altar was all Elaine needed. She had her answer.

Slowly and methodically, Elaine packed up everything on her altar. She removed the linen tablecloth, carried it to the washer, and turned the machine on. Later, when the cloth was in the dryer, she would wash her linen gown. She returned to the dining room and replaced the silk flower arrangement that was the centerpiece. Next, she opened all the shutters. The room was instantly flooded with early morning sunshine.

It was after eight when Elaine entered the kitchen to make coffee. While she waited for it to drip into the pot, she smoked two cigarettes. She wasn't a smoker by any stretch of the imagination, but she'd found that smoking after an intense ritual calmed her to the point where she thought she was almost having an out-of-body experience. She loved the feeling.

Two cups of coffee later, Elaine made her way upstairs to get ready for the day.

Showered, powdered, and perfumed, Elaine took exceptional pains with her makeup, hair, and her outfit. She decided that her makeup was flawless, and she looked dewy and healthy. Her luxurious, honey-colored hair was swirled with stray tendrils curling by her ears. She reached for a can of sparkle and sprayed her hair. Just one quick press of the pressurized button and her hair glistened. The outfit she had chosen was a designer suit that was so severe, one knew it had cost a fortune. And it had. It was the color of oyster shells. The blouse that she chose to go under the suit had a demure string bow at the throat. It was the color of a morning dove. She looked at herself from every angle in the mirror. She was satisfied that there was nothing more to do. In her mind, she looked perfect. Simply because she
was
perfect
.
And how could one improve on perfection? One could not, that was her bottom line.

Elaine slipped her feet into sling-back spike heels that showed off her legs and gave her a regal look. She was a head turner, and she knew it full well. A smile played around the corners of her mouth as she made her way downstairs. It was a shame that she had to drive that shitty little yellow Volkswagen. She belonged in a Mercedes convertible. Soon, she'd be driving one, she was certain of it.

Elaine had a bad moment when she reached the door. She was about to set the alarm when a thought occurred to her. She quickly rummaged in one of the kitchen drawers for a roll of duct tape. She picked up a pair of shears and a ballpoint pen. Outside, she set the alarm and closed the door behind her. She made a mark on the doorframe and cut off a strip of duct tape and stretched it across the door. She smoothed out the tape so there were no creases or wrinkles. If anyone broke into her house, she'd know it when she returned because the mark she'd made on the doorframe would come off on the sticky side of the duct tape. Plus, no matter how hard you tried to reuse duct tape, you could tell once it had been pulled free of whatever it was sticking to. Gus had told her that, but she couldn't remember why. On a whim, she scribbled a note on the duct tape:
the police are watching this house.
She ran around to the front door and did the same thing. There wasn't anything else she could do, so she left the house and drove to the hospital where Isaac Diamond was a patient.

Elaine had called precisely at six o'clock last evening when the new shift came on duty, to ask if Isaac could have visitors and was told he could and that no real visiting hours were in effect. The news fit in perfectly with the rituals she had performed all night long. As far as she was concerned, Isaac Diamond was toast. He just didn't know it yet.

 

Gus stopped the car with a wide sweep in front of Barney's garage. Barney hopped out and opened the garage door. “I'm going inside to fetch some more knock-around clothes, and I'll meet you at Shady Pines in thirty minutes. Listen, pal. You sure it's okay for me to bunk in with you? You sure you don't mind?”

“If I did, you'd know it. Get your stuff and make it snappy. I told Granny we'd be ready by eleven for our sit-down orientation. The seniors get antsy when things don't go off on time.”

“No problem,” Barney said, sprinting through the garage.

Gus backed up and swung his car around. Ten minutes later, he parked in what was once the Shady Pines assisted-living facility. He reached for his briefcase, which contained all his notes and schedules.

Inside, Gus headed straight for the industrial kitchen. The kitchen was huge, as was a room that was probably a pantry of sorts, with extra refrigerators and cabinets for staples. Gus eyed the industrial ovens and the two stoves with sixteen burners in total. The two industrial ovens had six shelves each for baking trays. The microwave ovens lining a side wall were huge as well. He closed his eyes as he tried to imagine how many people could be served meals from this kitchen. What he didn't know was whether the food had been prepared from scratch, or had come from a food-service company and simply been reheated. He made notes on the yellow legal pad in his hand.

He looked at the page in his notes with the heading,
F
ORTUNE
C
OOKIES
. He opened the oven doors, bent over to look inside. He scribbled more notes. He moved on to the stoves. His gut told him his grandmother would never okay prepared and heated food. Sixteen burners going three times a day. It would work for now, since occupancy was a little over thirty, more if you counted Granny and the aunts. Food service versus local vendors. Granny would want local, that much he knew. Which then opened another can of worms. Who was going to do the shopping? Maybe they could cut deals with the locals for delivery if they bought everything in bulk. Gus made more scribbles in his notepad.

Gus eyed the industrial dishwashers and the huge sinks. Hospitals used throwaways. He made more notes on his pad. Labor hours in the kitchen versus throwaway plastic. Maybe they could get rid of one of the sinks and put in another oven if they could justify the use of plastic plates and plastic utensils. More notes. He was so engrossed in his scribbling and his thoughts, he didn't see Barney until his buddy clapped him on the back.

Gus explained what he was doing. Barney absorbed it all as he walked around, then peered at Gus's notes. “I agree, we take out one sink and put in another oven. Right now, there are going to be thirty-some people, not counting Granny and the aunts. When and how will you decide if you're going to take in more people?”

“I don't know, Barney. Let's check out the rest of this place. The good news is it's sound and in excellent condition. Four wings. Right now, only the east wing is being used, with rooms to spare. The seniors are gung ho, and we're going to have to rein them in. I believe they think that they can fill this place and just keep doing what they're doing. They can't do it financially. I need to tell you something, Barney. They do not take kindly to the word
no
!”

“What you're saying is, they're stubborn?”

“Try
fixated.
And they want it all done yesterday. We have to convince them that whatever we come up with is beneficial to all of them.”

Barney groaned. “Are they more or less stubborn than Granny, Vi, and Iris?”

Gus grinned. “They're running neck and neck. Granny will listen, but that doesn't mean she'll agree. See, they were doing fine, according to Granny, before I came along.”

“What about the legal end of things? Do any of these people receive Social Security? Where does that money go? Who controls all of that?” Barney asked.

“Granny has a lawyer and an accountant, but from what I can tell, the lawyer, at least, isn't top-notch. They need hands-on twenty-four/seven help, at least for now.”

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Barney asked.

“If you're thinking about asking Jill to take over the legal end, then yeah, and if you mean me and my firm doing the accounting, then yeah again. I'll do it for free, but I guess Jill will need to be paid.”

Barney laughed out loud and slapped his knees. “That just goes to show how much you know about that young woman. First things first, she does not need the money. This is something she'd love to do simply because she'd have a whole passel of grandmothers and grandfathers. She is so good with elderly people, you have no idea. I'll hate to lose her, but she's a perfect fit for this operation. Do you want to ask her, or shall I?”

“You sure about that, Barney?”

“Oh, I'm sure,” Barney drawled.

“Then, I'll do it. Or we can do it together. We can walk over to her house this evening and broach the subject.”

“That'll work. What's next on the agenda?”

“Let's walk this place. I was thinking we could use the entire west wing to store all the supplies. We won't need all the rooms for storage and can use the other rooms for the computers for their newsletters—that voodoo and magic stuff they do. I wish they'd get out of that, but they're digging in on that. They say it's entertainment, not for real. Jesus, Barney, they have Web sites, blogs, they tweet, they have it going on. They just need to be organized. Then there's the sex hotlines, the sex newsletters. Don't go getting excited here. I've seen them, and about all they say is just because there's snow on the roof doesn't mean there isn't a fire in the chimney, that kind of thing. Nothing outlandish. Oh, and they advertise in AARP. Barney, they have thousands and thousands of members. What the hell they're members of, I still don't know.”

Barney leaned against the wall so he wouldn't fall over laughing. “Hey, don't get me wrong here. I am not laughing at the seniors; I am laughing
with
them. I think this whole thing is great. Damn, I'm glad I came home. I can't wait to get started.”

Gus looked at his watch. “We should head to the community room, so we can get this show on the road. I have to tell you, none of the seniors are keen on the idea of shutting down for ten days till we get this ball rolling smoothly. They like being productive and contributing. They're going to fight us tooth and nail. We're going to have to be our most persuasive. I gotta warn you about Oscar; he's pretty vocal. He's the one who wanted to take me out to the barn to kill me.”

“What?” The word exploded out of Barney's mouth faster than a bullet.

“I
think
he was joshing me. But he looked serious.”

“I got your back, big guy.”

“Thanks, Barney.”

Gus led the way down one hall, around the corner, down another hall, and finally they came to what Shady Pines back in the day called the community room. The seniors had set up chairs in neat rows. It looked like everyone was present, including his grandmother and the aunts.

Elroy Hitchens shouted out so that everyone could hear, “The bus driving test is next week, young fella.” All the seniors clapped.

“I'm on it, Elroy,” Gus shouted back. The seniors clapped again. Barney clapped the loudest.

And then the meeting got under way. It went from curiosity to anger to belligerence, then back to anger, with shouted comments that hurt Gus's ears. Barney marched up front to take his place next to Gus. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled. As one, the seniors clamped their lips shut. They sat quietly like chastised children, which had not been Gus's intent.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to suggest a solution to Initial B Enterprises' problems. I repeat, it's just a suggestion, and I'd like all of you to consider it, then vote on it. So, here we go.”

Gus talked for a full hour, outlining a plan that he thought would work for all concerned. When he wound down, the thirty-or-so seniors stared at him like inquisitive squirrels waiting to see if there would be anything else for them to consider.

Albert Givens stood up and posed the first question. “What are we going to do for the ten days you say we are not operational?”

Barney stepped forward and introduced himself. “You'll be working with me. We need to do a lot of paperwork where you are all concerned. We need to square away your Social Security payments. That money was going toward your room and board where you lived prior to moving here. Staying here is free. So we need to make your money work for you, and that's where I come in. You'll be paid a salary, but it won't be a lot of money at the end of the week. But by the same token, you will only be working a few hours a day. Weekends will be free for socializing. We're going to run this operation like the business it is.

“We want each of you to write down everything you think we need to know. What you like to do, if you excel in anything in particular, your food preferences, your current health status, and anything else you want us to know so we can provide the best of the best for you.”