The pushing and grabbing and squealing continued, but nobody helped her. He understood, you took care of yourself on the street, but this woman was overmatched. He got out of the van. “The lady says no, friend.”
“Shut your lousy mouth, you old geezer.”
“Look, I’m just trying-”
Straggly hair’s arm came out and shoved him backwards against the building, almost off his feet. This brought a communal gasp from the homeless. At once fists pummeled the man.
“You okay, Doc?”
“Did he hurt you?”
“I’m okay, thanks.” He waved away the hands seeking to help him and turned to the woman. “Get in the van, I’ll take you away from here.”
He started the motor and drove off. In the rearview mirror he saw the security guard hired by The Sally break up the altercation.
“Thanks a lot, mister.”
Again in the mirror he saw she was perhaps in her mid to late forties, blonde, permed, with a round, sweet face. “Did he hurt you?”
“I’m okay.” A soft, high-pitched voice gave her a childlike quality.
“Was he a friend of yours?”
“I never saw him before. He just approached me and started to…” She sighed. “I guess he was inebriated.”
“Its been known to happen. Do you know him, Henry?”
“I seen him but I don’t know his name.”
“Thank you for intervening, but you could’ve been hurt.”
“Wasn’t too smart of me. Fortunately, I had help.”
“Why did those men defend you?”
“Cause he’s a good guy,” Henry said, “he’s one of us.”
“Thank you, Henry, that’s high praise. I provide a service they all need, speaking of which, where can I take you?”
She sighed. “Social services, I guess, maybe they can tell me what to do.” Depression clung to her like wet tissue.
Byerly made a couple of other stops, but he picked up no other passengers before heading for the northbound ramp of the 101 Freeway. “You’re new on the street, aren’t you?”
“How can you tell?”
“Vocabulary, clothes, demeanor.”
“My first day, not a very auspicious beginning.”
“Most of the street people are okay, but it’s a dangerous place for a woman, especially one used to-well, gentler climes. How did you get here?”
“I’ve nowhere else to go. My husband left all the money in a trust fund for my son.”
“Your boy is letting his mother live on the street?” He turned his head sharply to look at her. “Nice kid.”
“My son is only 19 and doesn’t realize what goes on in the real world.”
“He could give you a roof while he finds out.”
“Josh is busy, attending some kind of auto show in Denver.”
Byerly could only shake his head.
A few moments later he turned on the car radio to hear the news.
2: Mystery Note
Traffic was a bit heavy this morning, so DeeDee Byerly only crept along Coast Village Road in her Beamer Z4. She knew it was ridiculous to drive such a sports car, but it was her rebellion against advancing years, along with high heels and red hair. Finally she passed her flower shop and stopped for a light.
To think she almost chose a location in downtown Santa Barbara! Wouldn’t have done half as well as here. Coast Village Road served the fat wallets of Montecito and also the hotels, restaurants and vacation condos along Cabrillo Blvd. and the beachfront. Kept her active and made retirement nicer for Walter and her. And helped her afford this car.
She made a right turn, then another into the parking lot behind her shop, pulling into the spot next to the delivery van marked DeeDee’s FLOWERS. Red Roses encircled the words. She unlocked the rear door of the shop and began opening up.
The only trouble with the location was size. The space was too small for the amount of business she did. The coolers, work area and storage were wholly inadequate. Everybody and everything was in somebody’s way. Nerves rubbed raw sometimes and good humor became a premium.
Today especially. At mid-morning she lamented, “What possessed me to open a flower shop? A travel agency would’ve been smarter.” Trimming flowers always did that to her, in this case white glads, three dozen of them, to go into funeral baskets.
“I’ll do that for you.”
She looked at Gabriella, her newest employee. Such lovely eyes, large, brown and soft. “Thank you, thank you.” She rubbed her aching hands. “Whatever you do in life, dear, don’t get arthritis in your thumbs. You use them for everything.”
“I’m sorry, DeeDee.”
“Pay me no mind, child. I could be worse off, like leukemia or leprosy.”
Where, oh where, was Karen La Rocca? She was her senior employee, and her absence caused this morning’s chaos.
“Does anyone know what’s bothering Karen? This is the second time she’s been late this week, and when she’s here she’s so distracted. The other day she sent a funeral wreath to a wedding. The bride burst into tears. She thought her ex-boyfriend sent it.”
Sharon, another of her girls, said, “A wreath would’ve been appropriate at my wedding. “
“Maybe we should offer them as specials.”
The phone rang. “This is DeeDee… Who did you say you were?… Of course I remember Jan Wedgerton, how are you?” She didn’t know her, she didn’t think. “Someone forgot to order flowers for your banquet? What a shame… You came to the right place… How many tables?… Of course we can handle it.”
She hung up and said, “Sorry, girls, she wants arrangements for 12 tables and a dais-by tomorrow night.” That earned a collective groan.
“Why did you take it, DeeDee, when you know how busy we are?”
Gretchen was not being accusatory. She merely had an inquiring mind, as a person attending Santa Barbara City College should. A question deserved an answer.
“I suspect none of you sweet young things can possibly understand why, but I’ll try to explain. You’ve all heard of the Great Depression and the hard times of the 1930s.” She made a fluttery gesture with her hands. “Of course, I don’t remember that long ago, either.” Another flutter. “Actually I was told about it-years later.” That earned a laugh. “My daddy had a store and there were often no orders and no money. So, it’s foreign to my nature to turn away money. You might say it’s bad for business.” Another laugh. “Darlings, we’ll find some way to fill the order. Meanwhile I doubled my price. You can all expect an extra twenty in your paycheck.”
Karen La Rocca came in about eleven, looking harried and guilty. She revealed her origins, lovely dark hair, olive complexion, an eye-popping figure and sultry brown eyes. There was an aura of toughness-maybe just worldliness-to her. But DeeDee figured it was the garland tattooed on Karen’s upper arm that made her think so. Tattooed women were seen as often as nose rings in her day.
“Let’s go into my office,” she said and closed the door. “I know I have no right to butt into your life, Karen, but I have a business to run. When your affairs interfere with that, I-”
“I’m sorry, I know I’ve let you down.” Her eyes filled with tears.
DeeDee patted her hand. “And I’m sorry to be such a scold. I just wish… Karen, something is bothering you.
