Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 03 - Valentined (19 page)

She set Hubert’s card aside and picked up the second
envelope.  She opened it and also found a sweet valentine.  This one featured
little bears in human clothes expressing very human sentiments.  It was
charming and certainly not too cloying.  The message inside made her chuckle. 
It was signed “Dave Esperti.” 
Hmmm,
she thought
, I didn’t think Dave
could be this considerate.  I just thought he was an inveterate flirt.  I
wonder if he sent cards like this to all the women at Happy Haven.  I wouldn’t
put it past him.
  She laughed.  It was a relief that the two valentines
were from actual people she knew and not from some unknown secret admirer.  If
that were the case, she would simply pull out her hair.

“Residents!” sang out Phyllis’s voice over the Intercom. 
“Don’t forget our big event this afternoon!  Dr. Love, otherwise known as the
Guru of Romance will be speaking in the lobby at two o’clock.  He’ll tell us
all about the history of romantic love AND he’ll answer your questions about
love and romance.  Now isn’t that a perfect program for Valentine’s Day!” 
Phyllis gushed some more as she provided the background of the speaker who was
actually an anthropology professor from the local college—Grace University. 
Essie was sure that most residents would probably attend because it sounded
like it would be FUN (according to Phyllis), and most of the residents always
enjoyed FUN programs.  Essie, however, considered such events a waste of time. 
She would much rather be doing something constructive.  And right now, the most
constructive thing she could think of doing was finding out who the secret
admirer, alias Happy Haven drug dealer, was.  She had waved the fake card
around at breakfast, but decided that she needed to flaunt it a bit more if she
was going to be sure that the unknown dealer was aware that she still had it.

She made a much needed bathroom trip and then returned to
her recliner where she whipped off several puzzles she had been working on. 
Nothing
like a good puzzle to tweak the little brain cells,
she told herself.  She
knew she had to be in top mental and physical form (as top as that form could
be for a ninety-year-old lady) when she battled wits with the Happy Haven drug
dealer.  She’d have to think of a better name for him.  As she didn’t know who
it was, it didn’t seem right to constantly refer to him as
a
him
. 
It might be a woman.  In fact, it most likely was a woman as women outnumbered
men at Happy Haven eight to one—at least among the residents.  She surmised
that the proportion was probably somewhat similar among the staff too.  Most of
the nurses’ aides were women, although she tended to think that the kitchen
staff was more equally divided between men and women.  As for the upper
management, now that she thought about it, they were all female.  Indeed, the
Happy Haven drug dealer most likely was a woman. 
How disgusting
, she
thought.   She couldn’t even imagine a woman doing something as vile as selling
drugs—particularly a woman who worked at an assisted living facility.  She knew
that everyone who worked at Happy Haven was not a saint but she wanted to
believe that the staff there was one of the kindest and most thoughtful
anywhere.  How was it possible that someone who she may have considered a
sweet, gentle person for years had actually been making a profit selling
illegal drugs?

She gave up this useless line of reasoning and headed out
into the family room.  Amazingly enough, Dave and Hubert were playing cards
with Betsy and Nadine again.  They obviously were a happy foursome. 
It was
a perfect set-up,
thought Essie. 
They can keep playing and I’ll just
plant a little bit of information among the four.
  She rolled over slowly,
smiling at other residents who were seated in the family room.

“I played that card, Hubert!” shouted Dave at his partner. 
The two women smiled and attempted to contain their delight.  Hubert slammed
his cards on the table. 

“I don’t like to play with you,” Hubert pouted.

“Now, Hubert,” said Betsy softly, patting Hubert’s hand. 
“It was an easy mistake.  It happens to me all the time.”  She smiled sweetly
at him and he blushed and looked down. 

“Really, Dave,” scolded Nadine.  “It’s just a game.”

Essie pushed her walker to the corner of the table, right
between Hubert and Betsy.

“Hello,” she said.  “This sounds like a very exciting game!”

“It is when you have a partner who knows what he’s doing!”
shouted Dave to Hubert.  Hubert pulled his head down into his big body like a
giant ostrich.

“Actually,” Essie continued, “I wanted to stop by and thank
you for the lovely valentine.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, Essie,” replied Dave.  His eyes
suddenly changed from anger at Hubert to flirtatious merriment.  “Hope it makes
you forget that silly petticoat-looking one you got from that loony secret
admirer.  I send cards to all my girls.”  He smiled in a smarmy way at the
other women at the table and they both beamed back at him.

“Did you get my card, Miss Essie?” Hubert asked, raising his
head maybe an inch from his shoulders.

“Yes, Hubert, I did,” said Essie.  “I loved it!”  Hubert
glowed.  Dave sneered and began to shuffle the cards for the next round.

“Do you want to join our game, Miss Essie?” Hubert asked.

“Oh, thank you for asking, Hubert,” she replied, “but I
really just stopped by to thank you both for the valentines.  My goodness!  I
don’t know when I’ve received so many lovely cards.”  She reached down into her
basket and pulled the fake valentine from her basket.  “It’s amazing how
beautiful some valentines are, isn’t it?”  She carefully slipped the fake card
from the envelope and held it up adoringly.  “Isn’t this card beautiful?  This
is the one my secret admirer sent!”

Dave snorted and focused on his cards.  Hubert looked forlorn. 
Betsy gave Essie a confused look followed by a subtle warning glance.  Only
Nadine responded in the way Essie hoped.  She gushed.

“Oh, Essie!”  Nadine cried.  “That’s gorgeous!  Do you have
any idea who your admirer is?”

“No,” said Essie.  “All I know is that it was postmarked
Boston.  I’ve thought and thought about anyone I might know or have known in
Boston, but I just can’t think of anyone.  Of course, it could be someone I met
somewhere else who moved to Boston.  You know, Nadine, I’ve lived here in
Reardon all my life.  Anyone who knew me many years ago might be able to guess
that I still lived here and be able to track me down.  It’s not as if Reardon
is that large or that there are that many Essie Cobbs who live here.”

“That’s true!  He could remember you even if you don’t
remember him!” said Nadine in a romantic fog.

Several staff members walked by without paying attention to
the group at the table.  Essie waved the card around, attempting to make sure
that the two staffers saw the valentine.

“Maybe he’ll get in touch with you!” Nadine suggested.  “I
mean, maybe sending you this valentine is just the beginning.  He might want to
rekindle a romance from long ago.”

“I can’t think of anyone I had any romances with long ago,”
said Essie, genuinely contemplating her past loves, and then suddenly
remembering that the secret admirer did not actually know her, but was just
using her mailbox as a drop off for his illegal drugs. 
How easy it is to
get wrapped up in these stories
, she thought.

“I don’t know why you’d want some unknown guy in Boston,”
said Dave, jumping into the conversation, “when you have two perfectly fine men
here at Happy Haven.”  He looked over at Hubert, with a sort of apologetic
smile. 

“Yeah,” agreed Hubert, protruding his lower lip and nodding
in agreement.  “Two perfectly fine men right here.”  This last sentence was
obviously much too aggressive for him and his face turned a beet red and he hid
it in his shirt collar.

“You’re right,” said Essie to the men at the table.  “If this
secret admirer really cared for me, he wouldn’t remain hidden.  He’d sign his
card like a gentleman.  Like the two of you did!”  She nodded sharply to drive
home her point.  The men seemed satisfied.  “Even so,” she added, “I can’t help
but be curious.  I mean, you all would be curious if you got a card like this
from someone who signed it ‘secret admirer’ wouldn’t you?”

“I know I would!” cried Nadine.

“I’d probably forget all about it,” said Betsy with another
veiled warning.

“Who’d send me a card like that?” asked Hubert.  The poor
man sounded so pitiful, Essie couldn’t help but feel her heart break for him.

“I guess I’d be just like you, Essie,” said Dave finally. 
“That’s how we’re alike.  We’re both spitfires and we don’t just let things
alone.  When we see a way to fix things or change something, we do it!”

Boy oh joy!
Essie thought.  She hoped that she wasn’t
just like Dave Esperti.  True, he was headstrong and outspoken, somewhat like
her.  But that was where the similarities ended, she hoped.

“I guess I’d better get going,” said Essie, satisfied that
she had displayed the secret admirer valentine sufficiently for numerous
passersby to see it.  She slipped it back in her basket and headed over to the
elevator.

“Hey, Essie!” Dave called after her.  “Why don’t you bring
your secret admirer valentine to that Dr. Love this afternoon?  I bet he’d be
able to tell you who sent it to you!”

Essie ignored Dave’s suggestion and waved at the group as
the elevator door closed.

Chapter Twenty Four

“Never pretend to a love which you do
not actually feel, for love is not ours to command.”

—Alan Watts

On the second floor, Essie headed back to the rec room where
the arts and crafts class was spending their last session making valentines. 
Sue Barber was again in the center of the tables describing final special
touches that residents could add to their cards.  Essie glanced over to the
table where she had sat the previous day and noted that Donna, Velma, and their
quiet friend were again hard at work on card construction.  Apparently, Donna
had finished her previous valentine, sent it to her deceased husband, and was
now hard at work on a new work of art.  Essie rolled over and slid comfortably
into the empty seat.

“Essie!” said Velma from across the table.  “Welcome back! 
Did your new great grandson like his valentine?”

“What?” said Essie, befuddled.

“The card you made yesterday,” replied Velma, “for your new
little great grandson.  Remember?”

“Oh, yes!” said Essie, suddenly recalling her small fib. 
Now why had she made up such a ridiculous lie?  She was trying to keep from
hurting Donna’s feelings by not mentioning her own husband, and here she just
succeeded in creating a story that she’d now have to maintain for no reason.

“Oh, fine,” she lied.  “I’m going to work on another one
now.”

“For your great grandson?” asked Donna.

“Maybe,” said Essie, vaguely.  “What about you?  Did you
finish the card you were making yesterday?  This one looks different.”

“No,” replied Donna, “it’s the same one.  I’ve just changed
some things on it.”

Some things
, thought Essie. 
The whole thing was
more like it.  Oh, well, to each her own.  And it doesn’t matter anyway if
she’s just going to give it to someone who’s no longer here.

Sue Barber was rambling on about it being Valentine’s Day so
it was their last chance to finish up the cards they were working on. 
Tomorrow, she said, they would be starting a new project.  She demonstrated a
way to trim card edges with gold filigree.

“I want some of that,” said Velma when she saw the shiny
thread sparkling from Sue’s hands.  “It would look really nice on my card. 
Don’t you think, Essie?”

“Very nice,” agreed Essie.  She pushed around some paper in
the center of the table as she pretended to show some interest in making
another card.

“What about that card from your secret admirer?” asked
Velma.  “Did you ever find out who sent it?”

“No,” replied Essie. 
Now, we’re getting somewhere
,
she thought. 
And here’s a good test.  The women at this table all actually
saw the original card the other day.  I wonder if they’ll recognize that I’ve
substituted a fake card or will they fall for my ploy? 
She reached over to
her walker basket and brought out the cream-colored envelope that contained the
fake card.   She held it to her chest in pretend adoration. 

“It must really make you curious,” said Donna.  “Not knowing
who this man is who sent you this beautiful card.”

“It does,” said Essie, providing her table companions with a
deep, romantic sigh.  “Here he is longing for me but not having the courage to
reveal himself.  I may never find out who he is.”

“That’s horrible to think,” said Donna, “but still very
romantic.  You and he are like unrequited lovers!”  She clasped her arms to her
chest and sighed deeply too.  The other two women smiled and appeared to repeat
the same heartfelt sigh.

“I guess we are,” agreed Essie, taking the envelope and
peeking inside at the card.  She pulled it slightly out of the envelope as she
stared longingly at the front.  She was careful not to let the little fake
heart she had created move past the edge of the envelope flap.  She wanted to
make certain that the women still believed that she possessed the card without
actually allowing them to get a close view of it.

Sue Barber was now moving around the room as she had done
the other day, commenting on each resident’s homemade cards. 

“Oh, my, Donna!” she declared as she reached Essie’s table. 
“You’ve totally redone your card!” 
Redone!
thought Essie. 
Sue
Barber was obviously more observant than she was.  To her eye, Donna’s card
looked totally different too.