The Blossom Sisters

Chapter 22


THE 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, FORTUNE COOKIES. 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.”

A little lady named Anna Bristow stood up and asked about the gardens that she and several of the others had planted that would provide fresh produce for the whole summer.

“I don’t see this as a problem, Anna. We have the golf carts, and there’s enough room on the back of each cart to transport the produce in baskets. Put that down on your sheet when you write what you’re good at or want to do.”

Rose took the floor. “How do you want me to discharge the legal firm and the accounting firm when we’ve been doing business with them since we started?”

“Barney and I can do that. You have both firms on a retainer, and you really haven’t utilized all the money you paid out. I’m working for free. The lawyer we plan to bring on board will probably donate her services. It’s win-win. People change firms all the time, and no one takes offense; that’s just part of doing business. I feel confident when I tell you I think we can have all the legalities and accounting up to snuff inside of a month. You won’t have to do the ledgers anymore, Granny. Everything will be computerized and will serve as valid records should you ever have to produce them to any agency making inquiries into your business.”

“When do the ten days start?” Violet asked.

“Today. We’re going to start carting all your inventories over here and use the west wing to store them. You will also work in designated rooms in the west wing for each project. It will be a day or two of chaos, but we’ll get it all worked out. We’re up for volunteers to help us cart all your supplies and inventory. We can call Pastor Evans to see if he has any high school kids who want to work a few hours after school.

“Barney and I are going to leave you for a bit. Talk about this among yourselves, and if you’re all in agreement, fill out the sheets about your likes, dislikes, and goals. We’ll be back in an hour for your decision.”

A short round man in the back stood up, introduced himself, and asked for confirmation as to the two weeks’ vacation and how it would be arranged.

“With a travel agent,” Barney said, heading for the door.

“What about holidays?” Elroy Hitchens called out.

“All holidays are paid and you have Christmas week off, too,” Barney shot back.

“Well, I want to go to Las Vegas. They give seniors a free lunch and twenty-five dollars to gamble. Can we do that?”

Gus thought Barney was going to pull his hair out. “You can go wherever you want on your vacation.”

“It has to be a senior trip, or you don’t get the free lunch and the twenty-five dollars. A bus trip. B-U-S!” Elroy bellowed, his eyes on Gus. “A special trip, not a vacation.”

“I’ll work on it, Elroy,” Gus said, shoving Barney ahead of him.

“Damn! I’d rather go up against a bunch of Wall Street sharks than those people. You sure we can make this work, Gus?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“You gonna drive a bus all the way to Vegas, Gus?” Barney laughed so hard, tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Only if you’re my copilot.” It was Gus’s turn to laugh. “I think you need to buy these guys a bus, Barney. I mean, you’re rich, it won’t make a dent in your bottom line, and I’m sure you can write it off.”

“A big yellow bus?”

“Well, yeah. You’ll need to call Detroit and order it. Get all the bells and whistles and make sure there are seat belts. Elroy is going to want TV for the long trip.”

Barney gaped at his friend.

“Isn’t this fun, Barney?” Gus asked.

“I gave up making bushels of money to do this and to buy a bus. Already I’m losing money. And yeah, I’m having a hell of a good time.”

“Sure you are. Wait, it’s going to get better. I’m feeling the love, I really am. Listen, Barney,” Gus said, turning serious, “you’re getting this, aren’t you? It’s not about money with the seniors. It’s about being a family, belonging, your peers watching over you, helping you. They just want to be productive, to count for something at their age. Before they came here, according to Granny, they were the forgotten ones. Barney, if I live to be a hundred, I will never forget the looks on the seniors’ faces when I rolled up in that yellow bus. They couldn’t wait to get on that bus, to get as far away from the facilities where they’d been living. I was the guy who made that happen. At least, the getaway part. We both know that feeling from when we were kids.”

“What? You think I’m not getting it? Of course I’m getting it. What the hell do you think I’m here for? Sometimes you’re a jerk, Augustus Hollister.”

“Takes one to know one.” Gus grinned. They were back to being kids again. He loved every minute of it, and he knew Barney did, too.