The Final Arrangement (14 page)

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to blubber.  That was my husband on the phone.  We’ve had some bad news in our family, and we’re trying to get it sorted out.  Oh listen to me; here I am rambling on, sweetie.  You’ve been so nice to help us; I’m probably scaring you from ever coming back.”  

“Not at all.  I’m sorry for your troubles.”

She drew a chair next to me and sat down.  She began to tremble; her petite frame looked as if it were a dam holding back a swelling river.  “You never stop worrying about your kids no matter how old they get.  He was my baby.  Irwin always said I coddled him, but he was special.  He was always more sensitive than my other boys.”  I wanted to divert the conversation.  I didn’t think her frail grandma heart could withstand what it would take for her to reveal everything welling behind her eyes.

“How many children do you have?”

Her face lightened a little, the corners of her mouth curved upwardly just slightly.  “Seven.  Three boys and four girls.  Two of the girls are twins.  By the time Bobby came I had my hands full with the twins, and I always felt like he didn’t get enough attention.”

“Is Bobby the son you bought the store from?”

“Yes...” Her face reverted back to pain.  “We bought it because he…well, there are different reasons, but one of them is that Bobby was in poor health.”

“Oh,” I said.  I could see that her heart ached for her son. 

She took in a deep breath.  “He had HIV.  He found out about two years ago.”

I made assumptions based on the way she kept referring to her son in the past tense that she had lost him to the horrible disease.  I could see the very edge of LaDonna’s garments peeking out the collar of her shirt, so I knew she was Mormon.  I was impressed that a little old lady like her could talk so openly and lovingly about her gay son. 

“LaDonna, I’m so sorry.”

“He’d been following his treatments, and doing real well.  He didn’t ever have full-blown AIDS.  He was working full-time running the shop.  Things were going real good.  He bought the store from a friend just after he’d found out his diagnosis, so that he would always have a place to work.”  Her face twisted with emotion again, and her eyes blinked out more tears.  “Yep he was doing real well…” her voice broke off and her body racked in her chair while she attempted to stifle her sobs.  “We bought the store from him later so he wouldn’t have to worry about bills and things like that, and he could just concentrate on being healthy.”  She sniffled and wiped her eyes.  I patted her hand.  “My Bobby…my Bobby… took his life about a month ago.”

Her face was ashen now, almost lifeless.  “We thought he was doing so well, but I guess he just couldn’t handle the pressure of everything—that—man—and then he got pneumonia from the stress of it all.  We didn’t know he was that depressed.” 

We sat in silence for a minute.  I didn’t know what to say.  This wasn’t a flower consultation.  We had no business to talk about to distract us from talking about the death of her son. 

“I don’t know what to say, LaDonna.  That’s just awful.  I am truly sorry.”  I knew I sounded like an idiot, but couldn’t help it.  What does one say in this situation? Sorry your son killed himself?  Sorry your son had HIV?  Sorry you bought a flower shop and didn’t know you would be running it a few months later without a clue of how to do it?

LaDonna was gracious despite my awkwardness. 

“Listen to me going on.  I bet you wish you hadn’t come in here today.”

“Not at all!”  I objected.  “It’s been wonderful to visit with you.”

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had another female to talk to besides my daughters.” 

“I understand completely.  You’re welcome to call me and talk any time.”

“You are a treasure.  You’ll, never mention any of this in front of Irwin—will you, dear?  He doesn’t like to talk about Bobby.  He never understood Bobby and his—lifestyle.  And now he just can’t talk about him at all.”

“I won’t say a word.” 

I heard the back door open.  LaDonna and I turned and watched Irwin walk in.  He looked like a typical grandpa.  He had a little bit of a limp.  He wore a plaid shirt, slacks with suspenders, and he had a shock of thick silver hair combed back just so.  “Irwin dear, this is Quincy.  You remember her from when we met at the wholesaler’s last year?”  LaDonna asked. 

“Oh, I don’t remember those kinds of things, Mother.  Quincy, did you say?”

“Yes, hi,” I stood and offered my hand, “I’m Quincy, from Rosie’s Posies.  It’s nice to meet you.  Your wife has told me all about you.”

“I’m sure there’s not that much to tell about me.  But Mother here, she’s the interesting one.” 

“Now that’s not true.”  LaDonna insisted.  “Quincy is an angel, she’s been here showing me how to work the computer and she set it all up for us.  Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Gosh, that’s great.  Are you sure you can use it though, Mother?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”  Her voice reflected annoyance at his lack of confidence.  “How about you?  I can show you how to use it now.”  She was proud of her newly found skills.  “Guess what else we found out?  Quincy’s Aunt Rosie and I worked together at the same shop in Idaho Falls all those years ago.”

“Isn’t that something?”  Irwin said.  “Well, thanks a million for helping with the computer, Quincy.  Maybe I should hire you on to do the rest of the office work.”  He chuckled out loud.

“I’m happy to help.”  I wanted to jump right in and ask about the funeral account, but I didn’t want to be too blatant about it.  We had just become reacquainted.  But it’s not like I went there to get cozy with the wife so they would tell me everything about their business.  Was it?  I needed to handle things delicately, but I also needed to act quickly to see if there was any way to get a piece of the action.

I thought maybe I could just bring up the common news of Derrick’s murder.  Then I could segue into talking about his funeral work, hoping Irwin would volunteer that he was taking over the account.  I was finally ready to put my plan into action when the phone rang and Irwin went to get it.  I waited for a few minutes, while LaDonna practiced logging on and off of the Internet.  The phone call seemed to drag on, and I realized I needed to get back to the shop. 

“LaDonna, I wonder if I can come back later and set up your cash register system.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that.  You are such a sweetheart to offer, but I don’t want to cause you any more trouble.  You’ve spent so much of your time already.” 

“It’s no trouble.  And besides, I want to get the name of your sales rep and see if he’s the same guy as I have.  If he is, I’ve got a few things to ask him regarding your computer system.”  I didn’t tell her I was going to call and chew him out for taking complete advantage of an elderly couple. 

“Well, if you really want to, it would sure be nice.”

“Okay, I’ll call you later when I can look at my calendar.  Do you have the phone number for the sales rep?”

“It’s over on Irwin’s desk.”  She was getting sucked in by the computer.  “It’s on a business card, go ahead and take it,” she said, without looking up.

I went over to a massive, ancient roll top desk, scattered with papers that resembled what once could have been different stacks.  Envelopes were scattered among the mess, many of them from utility companies, banks, and credit card companies stamped in red ink saying “payment past due.”  A glossy pamphlet protruded from a still-intact pile.  It was the same pamphlet I found on Derrick’s desk about bio-fuels of the future.  Maybe all the florists were receiving the same junk mail. 

I found the business card nearby, said goodbye to LaDonna and waved to Irwin as I left. 

The drive to the Shaw’s shop could definitely be classified as off the beaten path.  The narrow, small town road did not allow for any passing.  As the road left the enclave of the Mayberry-like Main Street merchants, it merged into the old highway with many twists and turns.  A ditch on one side and a canal on the other flanked the roadway.  The yellow goldenrod and ancient equisetum growing along the ditch banks reminded me of what was right with my profession.  If only I could sit and enjoy the creek beds just once during the summer.  I considered stopping at the next turnoff, to get a closer look at the native wildflowers and grasses thriving in the marshy conditions next to the waterway.  But as always, the shop beckoned me back.  I had spent too much time away from my business while helping someone else with theirs.  

My mind returned to the Shaw’s and their predicament.  They were stuck trying to run a flower shop after the tragic loss of their son.  They got sold on an expensive computer and point of sale system that they would never learn to master in their wildest dreams, and they were in their seventies as far as I could tell.  They should have been doing what retired people do.  LaDonna should’ve been joining the quilting group in her ward, and Irwin should have been doing whatever it is Irwin wished he could be doing. 

As much as I felt sorry for him, I got kind of a bad vibe from Irwin.  He had been guarded.  Not that he should share his life story upon first meeting me, but I caught him glancing at me suspiciously throughout the time he was there.  

Maybe I was misreading him.  I didn’t know either of them very well, yet we had bonded quickly and I was concerned for their welfare.  LaDonna reminded me too much of my grandma.

I needed to play a CD so I could sing along and stop thinking about the Shaws and their travails for the moment.  I had my own concerns.  I took my eyes off the road for a quick second to look at the CD on the passenger seat, then returned my gaze to the highway.  I glanced at the rear view mirror where I saw a little red pick up truck driving way too close to my bumper. 

I was driving about five under the speed limit, so I sped up realizing I was probably being a Sunday driver while my mind wandered.  The truck stayed right on my tail.  I sped up a little more and gripped the wheel tightly.  The highway curved frequently and I didn’t want to nose-dive the van into the five-foot deep portion of the canal on the side of the road.  I glanced in my mirror.  The truck couldn’t get any closer to my bumper without slamming the van.  I slowed way down.  The jerk could pass me if he were in such a hurry.  Finally the truck started to swerve around the driver’s side.  I felt relieved.  I could ignore the hand signal I was sure would be coming up along side. 

I looked over my left shoulder to see when I could return the gesture.  The truck had caught up as far as the van’s rear tire.  The headlights of the truck flashed on and off.  I heard the horn blast several times.  Suddenly the truck slowed down and violently swerved back behind the van. 

There were ten miles left before I would reach the interstate.  It felt like mice were running around in my stomach; my hands were glued to the steering wheel with a white-knuckled, steel grip.  I sped up.  The truck mimicked.  My mind raced faster than the van.  I didn't know what I had done to cause this road rage, but I was feeling some rage of my own.

I could see two bearded men in the vehicle.  I was going seventy on a fifty-five.  Where was the highway patrol officer who liked to write tickets for going three miles over the speed limit when I needed him? 

I sped on.  The V-6 in the Zombie Van was powerful.  I could’ve out run these guys if the road didn’t wind so wickedly.  I didn’t see the yellow sign showing the extreme curve in the road until I had almost passed it.  I slammed the break pedal, hoping not to roll the van.  My head jerked forward as the red truck hit my back bumper.  I continued to slow down, but I didn’t want to stop.  I was too scared to be angry at this point.  I just wanted to get out of there.  After the sharp turn I floored the accelerator.  I looked in the rear view.  The truck was slowing down.  Their front bumper hung down on the passenger side.  That’s the last time I looked back.  Zombie Sue rides again.

I found the freeway exit and called Alex as soon as I remembered I had my cell phone.  My heart pounded and it seemed I had a grapefruit lodged in the back of my throat.  My hand shook as I attempted to push the tiny numbers on the cell phone while I watched the road.  I knew I had no credibility since the fake sniper attack.  I took a long slow breath through my nose and blew the air out of my mouth, hoping for a steady voice.

The phone seemed to ring twenty times.  Maybe Alex was screening his calls, or at least any calls coming from me after the way we’d left each other the day before. 

“Cooper here.”

“Alex, I just had someone in a red truck tailgate me and then slam the van."  I panted between words.  I wondered if I was having a panic attack. 

“Whoa! Quincy?  Slow down.  You were hit?”

“Yes!”

“Where are you now?” 

“I’m on the freeway.”

“You’re driving?”

“Yes.  I don’t think they’re still following me.  I didn’t know what else to do.  I know you probably don’t believe me, or want to hear from me but I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Quincy, it’s okay.  Of course I believe you.  Are you okay?  Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.  I’ll probably have a sore neck for a while, but I’m okay.  Other than I think I might have wet my pants.” 

Alex laughed then sighed, sounding relieved.  “Are you going home?”

“Are you kidding?  I have to get back to the shop.  I’ve got to get back so Cindy can leave.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you at your shop in a few minutes.”

“Alex, it isn’t necessary.  I just wanted to tell you I was involved in a hit-and-run by the same jerks that Nick described.  I don’t know who the hell they are, and why the hell they’re hitting my van, but it really happened.  Okay, I just freaked myself out a little bit.”

“I’ll see you in a few, Quincy.”

Having someone to call, that I could truly rely on, was a relief and a comfort.  The sound of Alex's voice made it seem like it was okay to feel like things were going to get better.

###

Alex jumped out of his police cruiser the moment I pulled into the parking lot behind my shop. The reality of what had just happened flooded in.  I sat gripping the steering wheel, my seatbelt still fastened.  I didn't remember the depth of fear I felt during the chase, but now that all was quiet and I felt safe in my parking lot, the heaviness of it sank in completely.  My body shook.  I just needed to cry to release all of the stress and fear, but I couldn't.