Chapter 6-- Lucky Charms
I jumped up. I was late for work-- 8:32 with a dot.
First day back to work and draggin' ass. Coffee bit my nostrils, and a heat wave prediction from Chet Sands, Channel Three's ace weatherman, bombarded my ear drums. Sid was up and hadn't woke me.
"Shit, I'm late," I said, stumbling out of the bedroom shoving my right leg in my pants. I head butted Sid and rocked back on my heals, falling smack against the wall.
"Whoa," he said. "You sure you're up to going back?"
"I'm fine. I gotta to go to work," I said, ticking off each reason on my fingers. "I have $23.54 in my checking account. I have to file the insurance, and I have to do it today at lunch. I have to check out the policy on my car. And I have to know how much they'll pay on the house." I caught my breath and shoved my other leg into my pants. "-- but it'll be a while before the insurance pays off-- if they do-- if I don't end up in jail for arson. No use putting this off. I need to get it started. Sucks having no car-- or house." Amazing. Half way articulate-- and with no caffeine.
"I'm gonna walk down to Johnson's insurance at lunch--" I added, "although I'm sure they'll cancel my policy after this."
"Listen, you need money. Here," Sid said, reaching for his billfold and pulling out a couple of twenties.
I shook my head, ducking into the bathroom.
"I wasn't asking for money," I said, calling out as I shut the door.
"I know you weren't, but you need to eat," he said, pressing his mouth against the door talking over me while I piss. "Do me a favor, eat something first before you go in. You're already late. I'll call work."
"I need coffee," I said, flushing the toilet. "But I'm not a breakfast person."
In the vanity mirror, I seem normal. My black eyes had vanished; I looked rough but not bad. I washed my hands then brushed my teeth with the extra Scooby-Do toothbrush Sid gave me. Stepping out of the bathroom stretching, my traitorous stomach growled 'feed me,' reverberating into the kitchen. Funny, I could have sworn my toe nail came off when I stubbed it the other day. I must have been mistaken.
"You need more than coffee," Sid said, rummaging through assorted cereal boxes in the cupboard. He pulled them out, jostling each one next to his ear like a kid rattling his piggy bank. "Maybe I should throw some of these away. Not enough for a bowl full in any of 'em. You like Captain Crunch?"
"That's good," I said. I was hungry. "Actually, Captain Crunch is my favorite."
I searched the inside of the fridge, blurry eyed. I slid the milk from the shelf over to the counter while Sid dug out a spoon and bowl from the dishwasher. Plopping down on the leather barstool, I poured a heaping bowl full with skim milk. Whole was better, but I was ravenous by then; I'd gobble cereal dry. My stomach yowled again, welcoming the first bite.
"Sounds angry, I think it wants eggs and bacon," he said, plunging his hand deep into a box of Lucky Charms. "Mmm, green clovers!"
"What, no toy surprise inside?" I laughed-- er, giggled. "This cereal's fine. Eggs and bacon another day," I said.
"Bacon and eggs," I whisper, half to myself. Mmm. One of the olfactory memory meals that I loved. "That does sound good-- and something I could make. What if we go shopping after I get out of work, and I'll make breakfast for dinner tonight?"
"Does sounds good," he said, throwing back bland oat cereal into the box and casting in again. I munched and drank my coffee while Sid called the flower shop for me. Who was he, my friggin' secretary? His neck cupped the phone like my mom's used to-- talking all proper and polite. It was Mr. Keller on the other end. Had to be. If he was talking to Alan, his arms would wave around his head instead of tight and acting all constipated. All the while he sorted out the marshmallow charms and popped them into his mouth like accounts.
That's when he turned his back to me, and I noticed his shoulder muscles twitch rhythmically. Little ticking spasms. His navy 'I Love NY' tank top stretched taunt across the spot, betraying movement underneath. I held my breath. No, that didn't make me want him at all--
He hung up.
"Everything's cool," he said.
--and that quick smile he slipped me when he clicked down the receiver, nope, that didn't warm my heart.
"Take your time finishing breakfast," he added.
I choked back, "Thanks, Sid."
------------------------
We pulled up in front of the greenhouse at the same time as Alan. He waved as Sid stretched over the seat.
"I'll pick you up at five. If you decide to knock off early today, just call. You know my cell phone number. I'll be in and out all day."
In and Out? Shit. My hand pulled on the door handle and missed.
"Wes?"
"Yeah?"
He hesitated, leaning further over the console. For a moment there, I thought, hey, he was gonna kiss me in broad fucking daylight in front of work, Alan, and the world. Instead, his hand brushed my chin, and he smiled, "Bye."
I stumbled out of his car and crossed the street with the memory of In and Out and his fingers lingering on my chin, and how only days ago I was thinking of one-hundred and one reasons why I shouldn't be gay, and now I'm thinking of one-hundred and three reasons why I should be. Alan stood in the front room, watching our parting scene through the showroom window. I limped up the stairs, avoiding Alan's stare. He closed one eye, summing up my perplexed, nervous gate.
"Well, Wes I have to admit... I was wrong about you." I gave Alan a puzzled look. "I told Sid not to waste his time, pining away for you. He kept telling me you'd come around. I admit; I was wrong. So, um, I guess I can't refer to you as the 24-year-old vestal virgin anymore?"
"That's the most bass ackward complement I ever heard. Let me get this right-- you've hated me all these years, because I didn't sleep with Sid."
"Yeah, that's about right."
I could not bring myself to side with his semi-civil countenance-- not even for Sid-- when I knew inside Alan was still a slithering, womanizing snake. I wanted to indulge in a few choice words, but I glimpsed Mr. Keller standing in the backroom taking in our conversation.
Peachy.
"Now, you look more like yourself. You were a sight at the hospital," Mr. Keller spoke up; I loved the guy. He came to see me. Shucks. "Lucky you're alive-- I saw what was left of your car."
"Thanks for visiting me," I said, explaining my memory lapse was too long a story to tell Mr. K this morning.
"I'm happy you're back," he gave me a warm suffocating hug. "Sorry about everything-- the fire, your house. Here's some extra cash," he whispered, slipping it into my hand. "What ever you need-- just ask. You're like a son to me, you know. Sid told me you were still a bit under the weather. If you feel like punching out early today, it's okay-- I won't look at your time card."
"I'll see how the day goes."
He winked. "Sid comes from a great family, and I'm glad to see something good come out of all the bad that's come your way. You've had too much happen over the last few years." I looked down quickly, my eyes watering. "Well, I've got to get to the scene of your accident-- check on those sick roses on River Road. I'll be back as soon as I'm through."
"You talked to Mrs. Lancaster then?" I said, looking over at Alan.
"Yes, she sends her best to you, by the way-- says her grandson knows ya."
"Well, yeah, he's in our band now."
Alan laughed and walked down the back steps to the greenhouse. Ass hole. Mr. K waved, and I turned around. The door chimed twice. Keller leaves, customer enters. A day in the life at the flower shop.
Easy customer. Took a pre-made bud vase, paid and left. Then I prepared myself for the design room.
The last time I was gone a week, it took three days to organize the place again. Upside of being gone those days was I missed the Yancey wedding that Saturday. I hated working weddings. Especially, snooty-bitch-my-shit-don't-stink weddings. Weddings are a pain in the ass. When the brides to be come in to place their orders, I always wonder, how long before the divorce? I'd started a pool once, set odds; Alan even got in on the action. But Mr. K made us to stop.
Not very professional placing bets on newlywed longevity.
I shook my head. Stems in descending degrees of decay, from petrified to mush, covered the counters. Over five rolls of floral tape half unwound, were puckering from water saturation. No one bothered to put the right size of floral wire in the right slots-- When will they learn never to stick number three wire into the nine hole. And the ribbon-- a bolt of yellow pot tie muddied and trampled on the floor and another bolt of white picot ribbon half unraveled on a work bench sopped in water. Trying to put the mess away, I slipped on crumbled Oasis near the bathroom door, catching my balance and squishing my hand in a jelly donut.
I asked Mr. K about the Lancaster's when he got back. He didn't have much to say-- at first. He raved on and on about the garden. Thinking back, it was spectacular. He said Mrs. Lancaster wasn't home, but the infamous siren, Glenda was. He also met, Les, our new band member. What ever was wrong with the roses, wasn't anymore; they were perfectly healthy. Then, I remembered the leaves I took. Well, they were 'Gone with the Car.' I didn't understand how plants in that wasted a condition could recover so quickly.
"She's more interested in the missing card," he said. "She wondered if you would give it back." Considering her grandson had witnessed its reappearance, I guessed I had to. I told Keller I'd bring it in tomorrow.
"That's fine," he said. "They're a nice family. Very caring. Nice of them to come visit you in the hospital." Crap. My hospital room must have had revolving doors. "An interesting young man, that Les. Reminds me a lot of you. He asked how you were today-- said was he was the one that found you alongside the road and called the ambulance. He's very concerned about you."
Why would this Les lie about calling the ambulance? Old MacDonald called. I didn't understand.
"And Mr. Lancaster said he was sorry to hear about your house."
I bet he is, I thought.
I looked at the clock. Almost lunch time-- I wasn't in any hurry to visit Johnson's Insurance Agency, so I left a few minutes late.
