Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 03 - Valentined (17 page)

Before she put the card in the envelope, she turned the
envelope over and considered how to make the front look as realistic as
possible.  Obviously, she couldn’t supply a real postmark.  She could, however,
address it to herself and write in that phony return address that she clearly
remembered from the original envelope.   Then she contemplated the upper right
hand corner where she knew a stamp would go.  She reached over in her middle
desk drawer where she kept a supply of postage stamps.  As she held the roll of
stamps in her hands, she bit her lip and shook her head.  No, this wouldn’t
work.  An unused stamp just wouldn’t look right.  She put the stamps back in
the drawer and reached to the top of her desk in the upper right hand corner
where she kept a pile of important mail.  She peeked into the pile and
extracted an envelope that had a postage stamp on it which appeared fairly
loose.  Using her letter opener, she pushed and prodded the stamp until it
finally gave way.  With the used stamp in her hand, she placed a small dab of
glue on its back and gently placed it in the upper right-hand corner of her
fake envelope.  Then, she grabbed a liner pen with black ink.  It had a
felt-tip and it worked well in labeling envelopes and other things.  She
practiced using some blank paper first.  Looking at postmarks from some of her
other envelopes, she drew postmarks with Boston, MA, and the previous day’s
date.  She drew dozens of these marks, until she felt she was able to produce
one that bore a reasonable facsimile to the one that had been on the original
envelope.  Then, as carefully as she was able, she drew the postmark across the
old stamp on the fake envelope.  When she had finished, she set down her pen
and held the envelope up at a distance.

“Now, would I fall for this?” she asked herself.  “Would I
believe that this was an actual piece of mail that Essie Cobb received from a
secret admirer?” 

The answer to the question was a qualified ‘yes.’  There was
nothing more she could do.  Her trap was set.  Now all she had to do was set it
in motion.  She carefully placed the fake envelope on the top of the pile of
items in her walker basket and put down the lid.  She pushed her walker into
her bedroom and crawled under the covers.  She always had her walker next to
her bedside in case she needed to go to the bathroom but now there was another
reason.  She could keep her eye on it.  If the Happy Haven drug dealer tried to
take the card, he’d have to come in to get it, and maybe, just maybe, Essie
might be awake and see him.

Chapter Twenty One

“Love is an act of endless
forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.”

—Peter Ustinov

Essie opened her eyes.  Bright sunlight surrounded her.  She
glanced over to her bedroom window and realized that it was morning and that
she had slept through the night.  She hadn’t even needed a potty break.  As she
smiled in pride at her bladder’s achievement, the sudden realization of her
intended middle of the night goal surfaced.  What about her fake valentine? 
Had the drug dealer sneaked into her room and snatched it?  Essie stretched her
legs out over the edge of her bed and set her feet carefully in her bedroom
slippers on the floor.  Bending over, she pulled her walker closer to her and
lifted the seat.

The cream-colored envelope sat untouched on top.  Essie
picked it up and peeked inside.  Her little heart remained intact.   Her trap
was still unsprung.  Essie didn’t know whether to be relieved or dismayed.  If
the person had come in last night, she doubted she would have awakened as she
obviously had slept more soundly than usual.  But now she had to consider how
to convey to the drug dealer that his supply of cocaine was in her walker and
just waiting for him to come and retrieve it.

She sighed and lifted herself from her bed.  Every bone and
joint creaked, but Essie had learned years ago to ignore their noises.  She
realized that her body was somewhat like a railroad train.  It was slow to get
moving, but once the wheels started turning, it could go at an amazing speed. 
She gave each knee a little in-place bending until her lower extremities were
functioning satisfactorily.  Now upright, she grabbed her walker and headed
into her bathroom.  She couldn’t remember the last time her bladder had
maintained a full night’s worth of liquid. 
You go, little bladder
, she
said to herself softly.  Sometimes, she felt, body parts needed their own pep
talks.  Bladders, especially.

As she rolled back to her bed, DeeDee, her morning aide,
knocked, called out her name, and then immediately showed up in her bedroom. 
Essie waited for DeeDee to bring her outfit that she had laid out the night
before.  Arthritis prevented Essie from dressing herself with any speed, so
DeeDee made this morning ritual whiz by.  In fact, she and DeeDee had such a
well-practiced rhythm that Essie often thought they could enter a dressing
contest if such a thing existed. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Essie,” DeeDee said as she
pulled Essie’s brown slacks on and up her thin legs.  “The whole place is
talking about this valentine you got from a secret admirer!”

Essie smiled.  Her efforts were obviously working.  She
hadn’t discussed the card with DeeDee and this was the first she’d heard her
morning aide mention it.  DeeDee loved gossip and she loved to tease Essie,
especially about her love life, of which there wasn’t any.

“It’s true, DeeDee,” replied Essie.  “I got a lovely valentine
from an admirer.”  She tried to blush coyly, but her acting skills were not
what she wished they would be.  She was much better at figuring out mysteries
than pretending feelings she didn’t have. 

“That’s romantic, Essie!” cried DeeDee, now working on tying
Essie’s tennis shoes.  “Do you have any idea who sent it?”

“Not a clue,” replied Essie.  Of course, this was true, but
DeeDee didn’t need to know any more than that.

“I’d love to see it,” said her aide, now standing and
offering her arm to help Essie rise from her bed.

“I guess it’s okay,” said Essie hesitantly.  She didn’t want
to let anyone inspect her makeshift card too closely or they would see how she
had jerry-rigged it to include the trap.  On the other hand, she did want to
make sure that DeeDee saw enough that she remembered the card and would be sure
to spread the story to all of her co-workers and other residents at Happy
Haven.   Essie bent down and lifted the lid of her walker.

“I see you take it with you,” noted DeeDee as Essie brought
out the cream-colored envelope.

“It’s very precious to me,” replied Essie. 
Eeek
, she
thought,
how corny.  I wonder if DeeDee will fall for this folderol.  She
knows me so well.  She knows that I’m not easily bamboozled.  I can’t believe
she’d think for one minute that I’d become all mushy over a sentimental card
from someone I didn’t even know.
   She clutched the envelope to her chest
before reaching inside and carefully bringing out the frilly valentine.

“Oh, my!” exclaimed DeeDee, as she stared at the fake card
that Essie held.  “How beautiful!”

DeeDee’s face looked awash with wonder.  Essie bit her lip
to keep from scoffing.  Certainly she was proud of her own art work.  When this
was all over, she’d have to brag to Mindy about how she had created such a
crafty card that fooled at least one person.

“It is, isn’t it?” Essie beamed.  She fluttered her
eyelashes at DeeDee in her most girlish fashion.

“Could I see it?” asked DeeDee cautiously.

“Oh,” replied Essie, clasping the card to her bosom in mock
horror.  “It just…means so much to me… DeeDee.  I just hate to let it out
of my sight.  You understand, don’t you?”  She gave DeeDee her most soulful
look and prayed that her friendly, daily aide wouldn’t detect the playacting.

“Of course, sweetie!” answered DeeDee, patting Essie’s
shoulder warmly.  “Believe me, if I ever got something so romantic, I’d guard
it like Fort Knox too!”  DeeDee chuckled under her breath and headed into
Essie’s bathroom where she typically cleaned up her sink and made sure Essie
had enough toilet paper available each day.

Essie sighed in relief.  It wasn’t as hard to fool people as
she thought it might be.  She didn’t know if she’d be able to handle things
around Happy Haven in a similar fashion.  She needed to make sure that everyone
knew she had the card and that it was in her walker seat.  But, she had to be
very careful not to actually let anyone get a hold of it or they’d run the risk
of spoiling her art work and the little trap she had set for the drug dealer.

“You think it’s one of your beaux here at HH?” called out
DeeDee from the bathroom.  Essie rolled into the living room and pushed her
walker over to her recliner.  DeeDee eventually joined her and began to prepare
Essie’s morning pills.

“I don’t have any beaux,” said Essie curtly.

“Oh, I don’t know about that!” shot back DeeDee, pouring
water into her glass at Essie’s sink.  “That Hubert Darby follows you around
like a puppy dog, Essie.  You know that.”

“Maybe,” she replied.  “But he’s just one and he’s not very
aggressive.”

“Aggressive!” said DeeDee, laughing.  “You want your men to
be more aggressive?  Why, Essie I never would have guessed!”

“No,” said Essie, shaking her head and scowling as she took
her pills and water from DeeDee.  “I mean I like that he’s not aggressive. 
He’s less bother that way.”

“Bother!” said DeeDee with a twinkle.  “Since when is having
a male admirer a bother?”

“When you’re ninety!” answered Essie.  “I have enough to
worry about without some fellow prancing around behind me like some sort of lovesick
teenager.”

“Lovesick teenager?” DeeDee asked.  “Is that what Hubert
does?”

“Him and that Dave Esperti,” noted Essie, handing the glass
back to DeeDee.

“Oh!  Now, see, there are two of them!” said DeeDee,
pointing at Essie in victory.  “I knew you had more than one guy chasing after
you.  Since when has Dave been added to the list?”

“Not my list,” replied Essie.  “The only man on my list is
my late husband John.”

“I note your loyalty, Miss Essie,” said DeeDee, squatting
down beside her patient.  “But surely your husband wouldn’t begrudge you a
little love in your… now that he’s no longer here.”

“He wouldn’t,” said Essie definitively, “but, DeeDee, I
would begrudge it.  John is the only man I ever loved and ever will love. 
That’s all there is to it.”  Essie had not intended to get into such a personal
discussion with her aide, but DeeDee was always a good listener and always so
sympathetic.  Essie had spoken many times to her about her late husband and
DeeDee knew the special bond they’d shared.

“You’re a wonderful lady, Miss Essie,” said DeeDee, standing
and giving Essie a brief hug.  “If you ever do decide to give your heart away
again, believe me, that will be some lucky man!”  She headed over to the sink
and replaced the glass.  She straightened up Essie’s small kitchen and then
headed for the door.

“So, maybe this secret admirer is a possibility?” she
asked.  “I mean, if you don’t think he’s someone here at Happy Haven.  Who
could he be?”

“I don’t know,” replied Essie.  “That’s the romance of it, actually. 
If I knew who he was, then I’d have to deal with him.  As long as I don’t know,
it remains a magical mystery.”

“It certainly does,” agreed DeeDee.  She opened the door. 
“Hey, you’ll have to ask that love guru!  You know, the one who’s speaking today!”

“Oh, DeeDee, I don’t hold much stock in those types of
individuals,” said Essie, realizing that she hadn’t actually used this
morning’s opportunity to pick DeeDee’s brain regarding what her fellow workers
knew about Essie’s card.  “I don’t suppose that anyone has said anything about
my secret admirer, have they?”

“Miss Essie,” replied DeeDee, carefully closing the door but
still holding it, “I told you, your secret admirer is the talk of the place!”

“Oh, you say that!” chided Essie, “but I can’t believe
people are actually interested in some greeting card I got.”

“Oh, believe me, they are,” replied DeeDee. 

“What are they saying?” Essie asked.

“I don’t know, just that you got a valentine from a secret
admirer,” said DeeDee.  “The ladies are all jealous.”

“You mean the residents,” said Essie.

“And the staff,” answered DeeDee.  “Most women don’t get
flowery cards like that from their regular boyfriends or husbands, let alone
someone they don’t even know!”

“Are the men saying anything?” she prodded.

“Yeah,” replied DeeDee, “some are.  Mostly they’re annoyed
that your admirer makes all men look bad!”  She laughed.  “All men need to look
bad once in a while.  They should treat women better like your admirer does,
Essie.”

“Have you heard anything else?” Essie asked.

“I don’t know what you mean,” scowled DeeDee, furrowing her
brow.

“I don’t know,” said Essie.  “Just any questions or
comments.  I’m just curious, DeeDee.”  She smiled her fake smile again, hoping
DeeDee wouldn’t be put off by her probing.

“I believe I did hear someone say that one of the other
residents had received a valentine from a secret admirer, but I don’t remember
who it was.”

“Was it Betsy Rollingford?” asked Essie.

“I don’t know her.  It could be.  I don’t remember,” replied
DeeDee.  “Do you want me to find out?”

“Oh, no!” said Essie quickly.  The last thing she needed was
to arouse suspicion by having DeeDee go on some fact-finding mission for her. 
That would be just the thing to call attention to herself and to her attempt to
track down her secret admirer. 
Yes, just the thing
.  DeeDee waved
good-bye and Essie was left alone to plan her next step.

Chapter Twenty Two