The Accidental Florist jj-16

by Jill Churchill

  "I'll be ready. Is there anything specific I need to take along?"

  "Just a colored pen. Anything but black. And don'toverdress. You want to look like an average person. Not a prima donna. See you tomorrow."

  The first signing went really well. The bookstore was tiny and there was already a short line of people, mostly women, standing on the sidewalk outside. The bookstore owner was standing in the doorway and shook Jane's hand and thanked Barbara for being a little early. "Jane, do you need a drink before your talk?"

  "Just a glass of water, please."

  When she got inside, she was impressed that they had a huge poster on the wall with her picture and the cover of the book.

  "How did you do that?" Jane asked.

  "I didn't. Your publisher sent it last week. Stand to speak and I'll be at your side to open the book to the page you want to sign. It moves things along a lot faster."

  Jane, having never done a book signing, was surprised at how considerate this was. Or simply the norm?

  When the crowd outside found places around the room, the bookseller stood and introduced Jane. "She's a brand-new author. And I've read her book already and enjoyed it enormously. She has a real gift for words. We can take a few questions, then we'll get on with the signing."

  The first person to put her hand up was a very young woman in dreadlocks and a big smile. "I already read your book as well. I wonder how you knew so much about the time you were writing in."

  "I did a lot of research," Jane said with a grin and

  added, "I didn't use anything but the most interesting things I discovered. I wanted it to be an historical mystery, not a textbook."

  "Thank you, Ms. Jeffry. That's good advice. I'm writing a novel myself," she said proudly before sitting down. "I wish you good luck,"Jane said.

  The second question was about Jane's background. "Have you always lived in Chicago?"

  "Only after I married. My dad is a diplomat with a gift for foreign languages and my parents always took us along to the countries where he was working. That's why I've stayed where I lived in the same house for all these years."

  "What's your husband think of your book?"

  "My husband died in a car accident when our children were young. And I'm about to be married for the second time late this summer."

  "Oh, how nice," the bookseller said. "Now we'll start the signing. I'm glad we have such a crowd. My assistant has passed out little notes so you can spell your name for Jane. Or the name of whom you're also buying a book for."

  They both sat down at the table and the bookstore owner started opening the books to the title page.

  Jane took a mental count of how many she'd signed and by the time she was done, she estimated she'd sold thirty-seven.

  She stood back up, flexing the fingers of her right hand before shaking the bookseller's hand and thanking her.

  "That's almost a record," the bookstore owner said. "All too often, authors only sell ten or twenty. We've sold out all I ordered and I will order more today. You said all the right things to interest readers."

  Barbara Smith was standing at the front of the store. She also thanked the bookseller.

  She opened the passenger door for Jane. "Your hand got quite a workout."

  "I'm not used to handwriting anymore except to write checks," Jane said with a laugh.

  They stopped at a sub shop and bought one sandwich cut in half, two bags of chips and iced tea. When they arrived at the large suburban bookstore, Shelley was waiting just outside the door.

  "There's a guest inside you won't like."

  "Not Thelma again?"

  "No, your soon to be mother-in-law."

  "Oh dear. What's she doing here? She lives in Atlanta." "I have no idea. I just wanted to warn you."

  The bookseller introduced herself and took Jane to the table at the back of the store. There was a big crowd. Jane spotted Addie in the back row and didn't flinch. Addie was reading a local real estate flyer.

  Jane answered pretty much the same questions she'd been asked at the last signing. And the signing commenced pleasantly. When she left, the driver was in the car waiting in front. Jane whispered, "Lock all the doors, please."

  Ms. Smith did so and looked at Jane questioningly.

  Addie came outside and tapped on Jane's window. Jane rolled it halfway down and said, "Why are you here?"

  "I came up to book a hotel that could serve a dinner for four hundred and supply a dance floor."

  "That's not the way it works, Addie. It's my choice of sites. And why four hundred people? I don't even know two hundred people."

  "We can talk about it in the car," Addie said, trying to get in the backseat and finding the door locked.

  She came back to the driver's side and said, "Unlock the back doors."

  "I can't do that," Barbara Smith said firmly. "I'm not insured for strangers to ride with me. I've been hired to convey Ms. Jeffry to other signings now."

  And with that, she rolled up her window and drove off. In the rearview mirror Jane could see Addie holding up her fist in anger.

  "Who was that woman?" the driver asked.

  "To my great disappointment she's going to be my mother-in-law soon."

  "Oh, my dear. I'm so sorry about that. But you stood up to her wonderfully."

  Chapter

  64-

  THIRTEEN

  W

  hen they approached the first of the "drop-in" bookstores to sign stock, Jane asked Barbara if she could have a brief minute to speak to her future husband on her cell phone. Barbara was glad to do so. "I'll make sure they have enough copies at the front desk."

  Jane called Mel. "Your mother is in town."

  "What for?" He sounded alarmed.

  "To find a hotel that can cater four hundred guests and host a dance after the wedding."

  A long sigh from Mel. "That's none of her business. It's up to us where the wedding takes place. And even I don't know four hundred people I'd want to have there."

  "Furthermore, she didn't even buy a copy of my book at the bookstore. And she tried to break into my escort's car to talk about it more."

  "Okay, I'll find her. I have her cell phone number and will stop her in her tracks. I already made it clear that this wasn't up to her. It's our choice of the place. A dance, for God's sake," he exclaimed before hanging up.

  Mel called her back that evening, and said, "I've told her she can invite fifty people and we'll invite fifty or fewer. We will pick out where and when the public wedding takes place. She can cater it. She can buy whatever stuff she wants to put on the tables. You will pick out your own flowers for your bouquet and the dinner tables. But, Janey darling, her plans also included an enclosure in the invitation for where to buy gifts."

  "What?" Jane yelped.

  "Sorry, but it's true. We were supposed to go to Bed Bath and Beyond and pick out what we wanted in housewares, china, bedding, and crystal. Also Home Depot so I could order tools and build a deck, and buy a big monster grill."

  Jane forced a bitter laugh. "No way, Mel. For one thing it's rude to do that. And we don't need anything. We're grown-up adults. I couldn't find anywhere to put any of this stuff."

  "And I already have a drill with bits, and both kinds of screwdrivers. I'm not building a deck. And if we want a grill, we can pick one out ourselves."

  "How about this?" she suggested. "If she insists on an enclosure, tell her we want donations to the Red Cross,the Salvation Army, and Habitat for Humanity. We'll look golden and people we don't even know will benefit from it. And we won't have to build yet another room to hold stuff we don't need or want."

  "Great idea. Speaking of charities, I'm thinking about giving most of my stuff to someone. I don't want that dilapidated sofa of mine, or the complicated pasta maker, or the really scary electrical meat slicer that looks like a power saw. There's also an industrial-size Cuisinart. Do you think the Salvation Army would take it all away? They're all in their original boxes."

 
; "Of course they could, but what on earth made you buy such silly things?" Jane asked.

  "I didn't buy them. My mother sends me domestic cooking gadgets for every birthday and Christmas. I even have a monster-size breadmaker."

  "How did you hide these things from her that time she came to stay with you that Christmas when your furnace went out?"

  "I'd like to claim I deliberately disabled the furnace so she'd never know. But it wasn't the truth. I couldn't have done that to you, forcing her to stay at your house for the holiday. She was there for such a short time that she couldn't even look in my kitchen cabinets."

  He added, "The apartment didn't even come with a fridge or stove, so I'll pay someone to haul them away as soon as she's left after the wedding. I'm sort of glad this discussion came up."

  Jane almost volunteered to help him with his purging,

  then thought better of it. It was better if he got rid of his things by himself without any input from her.

  "Anyway, she's on her way back to Atlanta," Mel said. "She hates having to share her commissions with other real estate people. That's why she seldom visits me. Thank God. Anyway, we should get on with making our own plans for where this fake wedding is going to take place."

  "Shelley and I will look for nice hotels that can accommodate four hundred guests. You have lots of friends and acquaintances because of your job. You can invite as many as you want. I only want my immediate family and Shelley's, and Ted and Dixie, and Uncle Jim. That's seventeen people total including Ted and Dixie's little girls. Eighteen if your mother shows up."

  "You must have a lot more friends you'd like to invite," Mel said.

  "Only if you include my kids' former teachers, and all of the fundamentalist church ladies Thelma knows." "Is she coming to either of the weddings?"

  "She says she'll consider both. Oh, I completely forgot to tell you what Thelma did to me."

  "What was that?"

  "She had a private detective following me everywhere I went. She knew exactly where Shelley and I went, what we were wearing, how long we were there."

  "Good Lord! You've stopped her, I hope."

  "Ted took her on. He balances her checking account and saw a check endorsed by a detective agency a couple of months ago. He thought she was investigating theadoption of their girls. He knew she'd fail to find any flaw in the paperwork, so he forgot about it until I met him in secret and told him about the forged addendum to my former husband's will."

  "Worse and worse! Is she legally demented? Can't she be put away somewhere? What did she forge?"

  "An addendum typed on an old typewriter I gave her — the print looked like handwriting script. It said if I remarried, the whole will was null and void. And she tried to fake his signature. Badly. Ted was already furious with her because she'd said in front of his children that they were `Chinks."

  Mel was so dumbfounded by this whole story that he couldn't even reply for a minute or two. "Janey, please don't issue an invitation to either wedding to her. She's the kind of nut case who would ruin anyone's life just with a word or two."

  "There is that. But more important, Ted, Dixie, and the little girls wouldn't come to the real wedding if Thelma were coming. I want them there. I'll have to have another secret meeting with Ted so he won't tell her where and when it's taking place. And warn him to keep the fake wedding a secret as well. I can't help feeling that 'all those trips she took Todd on were for nothing. She really treated one of my children well. But I hope to never be in the same room with her again. I'll have to explain to Todd why she's not invited, though."

  "May I come over this evening to see how the new room is coming along?" Mel asked.

  "I'd love it if you did. It's almost a real room. Mr. Beckman is really moving it along as fast as he can."

  Saturday morning Todd came down expecting his mother to have made him a good breakfast. But he found her sitting at the kitchen table reading a mystery novel.

  "No breakfast?" Todd asked.

  "Not here. I have a craving for one of those Sonic breakfast meals. Greasy, salty, with two orders of tater-tots for both of us and big cherry limeades."

  She knew this would appeal to him. And she also knew if he was at his computer he wouldn't really listen to her.

  They took their orders and drove to a little park near the fast-food place. When they were both so full that they needed naps, Jane said, "Todd, there's something I need to tell you about your grandmother Jeffry."

  "She died?" he asked.

  "No, not yet. But she's become quite dotty and mean."

  "You're telling me!" he exclaimed. "I was afraid to say it."

  "How did you know?" Jane was surprised that he was so perceptive about his grandmother. She'd treated him well, she thought. All those nice summer vacations she'd taken him along on had been fun for him.

  "That last trip, remember? To Mexico?"

  "Yes. Two years ago."

  "It was horrible,"Todd said, taking a noisy last slurp of his cherry limeade.

  He went on, "She always took me to places wherethere was kid stuff. Playgrounds, swimming pools, and other stuff. I liked that and she'd always take me to a zoo or a neat movie. But when we got to Mexico, she went wonky."

  "In what way?"

  "Lotsa ways. She wouldn't let me swim in the hotel pool for one thing. She said the staff people got to use it sometimes and the water would be dirty and maybe carry diseases. She was rude to the waiters. She thought most of them didn't understand English and would say right in front of them how lazy they were. She'd always have bottled water in her big purse to wash off the silverware before we could eat."

  "Go on," Jane said.

  "Well, Mom, I finally got fed up and was so embarrassed at being with her that I told her not to be so rude and mean and loud."

  "How'd she take that?" Jane asked.

  He took one more fruitless sip of the melting ice in his cup and said, "She said she was so disappointed in me speaking to her that way, but since you raised me, she wasn't at all surprised that I'd learned to dislike old people. I'm sorry, but you asked me."

  "It explains a lot of things, Todd. First, why she never took you on another trip."

  "I wouldn't have gone if she'd invited me," he said. "Not after the way she was nasty about you. It's awful to talk ugly to strangers, but worse to talk ugly about a guy's

  mom."

  She gave him an affectionate fist thump on his shoulder. "Now it's my turn,"Jane said. "She's been very nasty to me, too, recently. She hired a detective to follow me everywhere I went alone or with Mrs. Nowack. She wanted to know how we were dressed and how long we were gone, and if he could tell what we were eating or buying."

  "That's horrible, Mom!"

  "She's done worse things. At dinner with Uncle Ted and Aunt Dixie she called their little girls `Chinks' and made Aunt Dixie cry all night."

  " `Chinks'? What's that mean?"

  "It's a nasty word for anybody Chinese. Just like calling a black person the N word."

  "I know what the N word is. In sixth grade a new girl who was black started the year in my class and a boy called her that. The teacher took him to the principal and they called his parents to take him home for the rest of the week. He never came back. I think his folks thought it was okay to say the N word and put him in another school. I see what you mean. Poor Aunt Dixie and Uncle Ted. Did Mary and Sarah understand it?"

  "No. They are too young to know a word like that. And Uncle Ted and Aunt Dixie aren't ever going to let your grandmother be around them again."

  "Good for them!"

  "That's why Mel and I aren't inviting her to either of the wedding services. And be sure if she asks you when and where they are going to be, you must pretend you don't know or have forgotten."

  "I won't. I promise. It's sorta sad. When I was a little kid, she was a nice Grandma. She isn't even a nice person anymore."

  "Todd, my dear son, sometimes old ladies turn mean. If I do, promise you'll stash me away s
omewhere."

  He put down his cup on the floor of the Jeep and turned and gave her a big hug. "You'll never turn mean. You're the nicest mom anybody could have. Could we go home now? I'm stuffed and need to figure out something about my computer."

  "What's that?"

  "It's going weird and doing tabs wrong. Maybe it's also turning into an icky old woman."

  Both of them laughed.

  Chapter

  FOURTEEN

  J

  ane was once again sitting outside, in spite of the fact that every day became a little hotter as spring was getting ready to turn into full-blown summer weather. She was thinking about the talk with Todd earlier in the day. She hadn't especially wondered why Thelma hadn't taken Todd on her usual summer vacation for the last two years. If she had, she would have assumed Thelma simply thought she was getting too old to travel. Or that Todd was getting too old to go on trips with a grandmother.

  No. That wouldn't play. Thelma wouldn't have thought about anyone but herself. So chalk it up to age.

  All in all, it had been a good conversation and cleared up a lot of things. It allowed her to tattle to Todd aboutwhat his grandmother had said and tried to do to her in the last week without feeling guilty and whiny.

  There was something else at the back of her mind that she'd been trying to grasp all day that finally emerged. It involved the next book she was writing. And the case of Miss Welbourne's death. But in reverse, so to speak.

  A woman who had been in an accident and had already set up a trust for her children with a secondary trustee who was her cousin. How did she have enough money to do this, though? She had to be a widow and she'd inherited a lot of money from her deceased husband. She also had to keep her own substantial inheritance from her own parents.