The Blossom Sisters

Chapter 7


GUS WAS SOAKING WET BY THE TIME HE CLIMBED BEHIND THE wheel of the Jeep Commander. And he’d just ruined another pair of shoes. It was black outside, and lights were on everywhere as far as he could see. What the hell kind of April shower was this, anyway? Like none he’d ever seen. A worm of fear crawled around his belly as he goosed the Jeep through the water in the parking lot and out to the main road. Maybe it was the end of the world. Well, if so, he wanted to be with his granny and have his dog at his side when he went to meet his Maker.

Gus crawled along behind the cautious driver in front of him, the taillights a faint, pinkish color. Since Gus was driving one of Barney’s prize cars, he tried to stay a good car length behind the other car in case the driver braked suddenly. Barney did like his toys.

As Gus drove, his eyes straining to see ahead of him, his headache came back. He was too tense; he needed to relax, to take deep breaths—inhale, exhale. He prayed then, something he didn’t do on a regular basis even though his granny had taught him to pray. She had taught Barney, too.

Gus did pray sometimes, but more often than not when he wanted something to go his way. I really am a shit of the first order, no doubt about it.

Forty minutes later, Gus turned off the road onto a service road that would take him to Blossom Farm. He was driving through water that was midway up his tires. At the first sign of the post lamps—which were like beacons—that started at the entrance to the farmhouse, Gus knew he was less than a mile from the front door and safety. He crawled along, saying all the prayers he could remember, one after the other. When he finally stopped in front of the house, he had a bad moment wondering if the Jeep Commander would start up when he was ready to leave. Would his granny let him stay until the storm eased off, or would she kick his butt out the door? More than likely, she would let him stay since he would be taking Winnie and Wilson with him. He needed to calm down. He sat quietly, the spring storm raging all about him as he struggled with his breathing. It was hard because he was chilled to the bone.

That’s all I need now, to get sick. His wild thoughts took him to a wicked place in his mind, his own funeral, with no one in attendance but Barney and his dog. Maybe Elaine, dancing on his grave while his grandmother and aunts hid behind a tree watching the proceedings. Old people got off on funerals, didn’t they? Happy to attend one as long as it wasn’t their own. Maybe Barney wouldn’t make it home from Hong Kong in time, and they’d keep his body in a freezer until he arrived. Maybe someone would give the order to fry him. Elaine! They were still married, so she could do whatever she wanted with his cold, dead body.

“Enough!” The single word exploded from Gus’s mouth like a gunshot. He opened the car door and stepped down into water that was almost up to his knees. He slogged through the water to the steps and raced up like a runner, lightning crackling and thunder booming overhead. He couldn’t believe that the power was still on. Maybe that was a miracle. But, if it went out, Granny had a kick-ass generator that would take care of all her needs. He and Barney were the ones who had insisted on the generator, and she hadn’t balked at the cost or the installation. He mentally patted himself on the back for that one.

Gus rang the doorbell. Iris opened the door and handed him a towel. He kicked off his shoes and did his best not to drip on the floor. Wilson bounded into the foyer, took one look at him, barked, then rushed him. Gus dropped to his knees and hugged the big dog as he whispered in Wilson’s ear. Winnie waddled over to them and managed to wiggle next to Wilson. His happy little family. Gus wanted to bawl at what he was feeling. That little ditty that you never knew what you had until you lost it rang in his ears. Just more confirmation that he was a real shit.

“Come along, Augustus, you need to change your clothes before you catch cold. Violet brought down some of the clothes that you left behind in your old room. You can change in the laundry room. Your grandmother is making you some hot tea.”

All Gus could do was say thanks. He was shivering so badly, he could barely make it to the laundry room. He closed the door and looked at the contents of the dryer, which were tumbling around. He could see a pair of his old boxer shorts. He stripped down in record time, goose bumps all over his body. He stopped the dryer and couldn’t get into his old clothes quick enough. Then he put the clothes he had been wearing in the dryer and turned it on. Nothing ever felt as good as warm clothes next to his body. Who but his grandmother would think to put his clothes in the dryer for him? His eyes burned. He swiped at them as he made his way out to the kitchen and the hot cup of tea that waited for him. His eyes continued to burn.

As Gus took his seat at the table and saw the huge mug of tea, he knew that if some fairy godmother came along and offered him one wish, his wish would be that he could unring the bell and go back to the day he’d first seen Elaine Ramsey. But that was wishful thinking, and it wasn’t going to happen. He cupped his hands around the heavy mug and sipped at the blackberry currant tea that his grandmother loved. He loved it, too. Wilson lay down by his feet, Winnie next to him.

They all made small talk, mostly about the crazy storm raging outside, the flooding that was taking place, and, of course, worry that the power was eventually going to go out. There was no real concern for him on their faces. They were just doing what they perceived to be their duty. He missed their open smiles. He was definitely not out of the woods where they were concerned. Maybe he’d blown it all for good. The thought was so awful, Gus had trouble swallowing the tea. He wanted to say something, something meaningful, but he couldn’t find the words. Finally, he blurted out, “I love you all so much, I don’t have the words to tell you. I know you’re disappointed in me. Hell, I’m disappointed in myself. I know those are just words, and, like you guys have always said from the time I was little, actions count more than words. Can’t you see it in your hearts to give me a second chance? Please.”

Violet was the first to chirp up. “Well, that is not going to happen anytime soon, young man.”

“You can’t just trample on a person’s feelings, flip them the bird, then expect to waltz back into their lives when you get a boo-boo. We are no longer in the lifesaving business,” Iris said so coldly, Gus shivered. He thought that was the most he’d ever heard Iris say at one time.

Two down and one to go. Gus looked at his grandmother. “Drink your tea before it gets cold, Augustus, so you can take the dogs and leave us. We have things to do today that we only do on bad-weather days.”

They weren’t going to give him an inch. Not even half an inch. His eyes still burning, Gus gulped at the tea as instructed. Time to get out of their lives. He finished his tea, stood up, and realized he wasn’t wearing shoes or slippers. He did have on socks, a pair knitted at some time in his youth by his grandmother. He looked toward the laundry room, where Violet stood holding his old Bass moccasins. He’d had them since he was a senior in high school. He’d bought them with his own money from his job clerking at the supermarket. They were old, soft, and broken in. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t taken them with him when he’d moved out eons ago. Out with the old, in with the new, or something like that, most likely.

Gus shook his head at Violet. “I don’t want to ruin them. I’ll just take my clothes and shoes. Maybe I can still save the shoes.” Violet shrugged as she yanked clothes out of the dryer and stuffed them in a white drawstring trash bag. Trash. Well, he felt like trash. Who in the hell ever thought that these three women, the loves of his life, could turn on him like this? (Probably the same way they wondered how he could cut them out of his life for Elaine.) Certainly not I, he thought to himself. He had a bad moment then, where he just wanted to curl into himself and bawl like a baby, so they would rush to him and hug him, smother him with kisses as they assured him in their gentle, loving voices that they would make it all right for him. He wanted that so bad he could taste it, could feel their warm arms around him, hear the soft words being whispered.

Instead, he heard a noise that shook the house and rattled the windows. He saw the alarm on the older people’s faces, heard shrieks and howls coming from all parts of the house. The kitchen door leading into the dining room burst open. He saw a sea of white hair as senior citizens came on the run, their voices fearful. What the hell was going on?

His grandmother sighed mightily, looked around, and said, “I think lightning hit the old sycamore out by the front porch, and it hit the ground or the verandah.”

Gus looked around in a daze. “Who are all these people?” he finally managed to ask.

Violet ran to the front of the house and was back in a minute. “You were right, Rose, it was the old sycamore. It’s gone. The good news is we’ll have firewood for the next ten years once we get Mr. Younger to come and split it for us. Oh, the left side of the verandah is gone. We’ll need to use the back door until we can get it repaired.”

“Who are these people?” Gus asked again, pointing to the group of chattering seniors with white hair who had barreled into the kitchen from all directions in the house.

“Not that it’s any of your business, young fella, but we work here,” Oscar said, his dentures clicking as he tried not to lose them in his excitement.

“Doing what?” Gus demanded.

“Don’t concern yourself with our friends, Augustus. Just take the dogs and go, so we can do what we have to do,” Rose Blossom said. “By that, I mean putting in calls to people to get the best price on repairs, and, of course, the insurance company. We need to be first because I’m sure other people will have damages, too, and we don’t like to wait. As you know, I like keeping the house in tip-top shape.”

“And that would be what, exactly?” Gus demanded again. He threw his hands in the air. “You know what?” He sat down and planted his feet firmly on the floor. “I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me what the hell is going on here. Like, NOW!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Suddenly it was bedlam, a Chinese fire drill gone bad as the little group that wasn’t so little anymore started to chatter and grumble. Gus watched in fear as one old man shook his fist in his direction and called him a young whippersnapper. It took all of Rose’s persuasive powers to calm down her little group once she clearly interpreted the look on her grandson’s face. Augustus meant exactly what he said. He wasn’t going anywhere until he got some answers. She felt defeated, as did her twin sisters, as they all glared at Gus.

“You need to wait right here, Augustus. Wilson, do not let him move. We’re going to have a wee meeting in the dining room. If you so much as move a muscle, Augustus, I will personally take the broom to you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, do you understand your grandmother?” the dude with the loose dentures asked, his voice filled with menace.

“I won’t move a muscle,” Gus promised. He looked down at his dog, who was taking his orders seriously. Wilson sat up on his haunches, his ears straight up, the fur on the nape of his neck as straight up as his ears. Winnie growled so loud, Gus itched at the sound.

Gus watched as the seniors literally pushed against each other in their haste to get to the dining room. He could hear voices, loud and angry, but he couldn’t make out the words, and if someone had offered him his weight in gold to go to the door and listen, he would have turned them down. Instead, he looked at Wilson and hissed, “Traitor!” Wilson showed him his teeth. So did Winnie.

“Yeah, well, guess what, Wilson? From now on it’s Milk-Bones, and no more Pop-Tarts for you. See how you like that! What the hell kind of guard dog are you? You let those old ladies brainwash you. You did, Wilson! I’m going to have to take you for therapy, and I have too damned much on my plate right now as it is.” Wilson showed him his teeth again. Winnie backed him up, but her heart wasn’t in it; her tail wagged.

Wilson noticed. He lifted one paw and smacked her on the side of the head. Winnie’s tail stopped wagging in midswing.

The moment the dining-room door opened, Gus sucked in his breath. He watched as the seniors filed into the kitchen. They formed a circle around the table and chair where Gus was sitting. He had never in his life felt so intimidated.

Gus let his breath out slowly as his grandmother advanced, looked him in the eye, and said, “Come along, Augustus. It’s time to take a walk on the wild side.”

Suddenly, Gus didn’t want to get up off the chair. He would have stayed glued to it, but Wilson nudged his knee and showed him his teeth for the third time.

Gus didn’t know what made him say the words or where they came from, but they shot out of his mouth at the speed of light: “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“No, nephew, probably not,” Violet snapped.

Gus wasn’t sure, but he thought the dude with the clicking dentures said, “We should have just killed him. It’s not too late, you know. Or we could shackle him to the tractor in the barn if you’re all too squeamish. We vote on everything else. Why didn’t we vote on that?”

Gus felt his blood run cold when no one responded.