The Accidental Florist jj-16

by Jill Churchill

  "Good on you, Mom," he said in what he thought was a cockney accent and wasn't convincing.

  The phone did ring again. And one more time. This time Addie left a message. "Jane, where are you? I've already called three times. Call me back immediately."

  "Immediately? I left a phone message for her yesterday," she said as Todd came back down the stairs.

  "What's for lunch?" he asked.

  "Burger King?"

  Later that afternoon, she called Mel. "Have you talked to your mother?"

  "Should I have?"

  "I think so. I called her and told her the wedding wasin three weeks instead of six and she cut me off, saying that was `unacceptable' and that she'd get back to me when she wasn't with a client. The ball is in your court now."

  "Okay," he said in a dismal voice.

  "How's the search for Miss Welbourne's children going?" she asked now that this was sorted out.

  "Not well. Both newspapers I contacted said they wanted to put the pictures in the big Sunday edition that everybody has time to read, and the next issue was already too full to place it well."

  "I'm sorry to hear that, but you can use some of your free time to call your mother now."

  "What am I supposed to say?"

  "That the date is set in stone. Four hundred guests is set in the same stone. I do all the flowers, she does the food, and we want the invitations to say no gifts are to be sent. And the charities they can contribute to."

  "Is that really a good idea?" Mel said. "Somebody might give us something really nice. Like one of those really fancy outside grills."

  "What we'll get is fourteen salad spinners, or eighteen sets of drinking glasses that don't match or four china soup tureens. You've seen my kitchen shelves. They're already crammed with what I use and need."

  Mel gave up. "I have seen your kitchen shelves and if it were me, I'd give half of the things away. I see your point."

  "We'll buy our own grill after the wedding though. I promise. And you get to choose it."

  Jane assumed that Mel would corner his mother and Jane would deal with all of the flowers, and get on with life. Her agent had recommended that she set up a website and rent a post office box for fan mail. "You don't want fans, however nice they might be, to know where you live."

  Jane had rented the post office box, but not yet tended to a website. She'd have to call Ted for suggestions of someone to do it for her. The Jeffry Pharmacy chain had a terrific website and she was pretty sure Ted hadn't done it himself.

  Without fear, she could call him now that there was no chance of Thelma answering Ted's office phone. She'd call him later today.

  All that remained of planning the wedding was picking up her hat, and getting the notice made up for the invitations that Jane and Mel didn't want gifts, just charitable donations. She'd recently priced business cards, but hadn't bought them yet, pending the website address. The owner of the place, however, had given her a reasonable price. She'd stop back today to buy the enclosures for the wedding announcements, send half to Addie and keep her half.

  "Oops," she said aloud. One more important thing. Line up a judge to do the civil wedding now that the date was set.

  Being a compulsive list maker, she got out her notebook she used for lists and rewrote the latest one with the judge in first place. Mel knew judges. But he was busy right now, so she'd call Uncle Jim instead.

  "Uncle Jim, the date for the two weddings has changed," she said when she reached him. She could hear some kind of power tool grinding to a stop. He was taking this woodworking thing seriously now that he'd had a room added for doing it.

  "Why's it changed?" he asked.

  "Because Dad finished up early translating for the Danes. So they are coming earlier. Almost everything is set up for three weeks from now. But I need advice on one thing."

  "Anything I can help with will be a pleasure," he said.

  "I need to make an appointment with a judge to do the civil service before the big fat wedding happens. Addie, Mel's mother, is planning most of it."

  "She's a terror."

  "But a rich one. I've made rules. I chose all the flowers, I've chosen the hotel, and they can only supply rooms for three hundred guests."

  "I don't think I even know three hundred people I'd want to invite to a wedding,"Jim said with a laugh.

  "Neither do I," Jane admitted. `But Addie wants to force all her richest clients into coming to `her' wedding and eating and drinking well. Purely a business deal in her view."

  "If she's paying for it, good for her. So when and where do Mel and I go to be fitted for tuxes?"

  Jane consulted her notes and told him the answer. "Now, you tell me a good, pleasant judge we can prevail on to marry us."

  Jim gave her three names, in order of preference, and told her their office phone numbers. He said again, "I can't wait to get to meet with your parents in person. It's been far too long since I've been able to just sit around and jaw with them."

  "They feel the same way, Uncle Jim. And thanks for the names of judges. And by the way, would you take Todd along with you and Mel? Mike will have to go, too, the minute he gets home."

  Two more revisions to the list, she thought.

  Jane was pleased to cross a number of things off her list. The first judge she called was very impressed that Jim was her honorary uncle and would be glad to do the civil wedding. They set up a time.

  The printing outfit she'd interviewed about business cards was glad to do the inserts for the wedding invitations. Jane instructed them that they should say, "Jane Jeffry and Mel VanDyne are combining households and don't need gifts. If guests wish to make a donation to Habitat for Humanity, the Red Cross, or the Salvation Army, Jane and Mel would be very grateful."

  The printer suggested the printing style, the paper weight, and the color, and Jane accepted all of his advice. They would be ready by tomorrow.

  Next on the list was picking up her hat. She still had a few quarters left; and the hat was ready and looked wonderful and wouldn't blow or fall off her head.

  When she got back home, she called Ted about web-sites. He told her who had set up and updated the Jeffry

  Pharmacy pages. "It's a bit expensive, but you won't have as much data to work with quite yet. Here's the name and number of the Webmaster."

  She'd deal with this after the wedding, but was enormously smug at having tended to everything on her list. All she had to do was pick up the inserts for the wedding announcements the next day and FedEx half of them to Addie, then alert everybody involved as to where and when the civil wedding would take place.

  A new list to make.

  Chapter

  TWENTY

  J

  ane had finished everything on her list the day before, except calling the Webmaster Ted had suggested. That could wait until after the weddings. She started a new list. The fridge was nearly empty and after getting rid of some very overripe cheese and lumpy milk, and the last of the congealed inch of orange juice, she went hunting for other things that were way past their sell date. Some cream cheese that had never been opened and she feared it was too old to even examine closely.

  Then she made a new list of meals and what she needed for each one. Chili sounded too hot for summer, and so was pot roast. Though she did both superbly in the winter. So she put down eggs, salad stuff, and good sourdough bread. Since the caper bottle had only fourlittle mildewed globs, she also disposed of those and put them on the list along with a new bottle of salad dressing, mayo, and a variety of chips and soft drinks. Hamburger, hot dogs, bacon, and good summer tomatoes.

  Then she rewrote the list by aisles in her closest grocery store. No point in wasting time going back to where she'd already been for something else.

  Shelley was the only person who fully understood Jane's obsession with lists. Shelley sometimes made lists herself.

  Jane came home with six bags. She had everything on the list, but she'd been drawn to some expensive little plastic bot
tles of pomegranate juice that she thought might be good for a special salad dressing she'd seen as a recipe in a magazine. She'd also bought some Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream. She hadn't purged the freezer, but she knew that Todd had eaten the last of the carton she thought she'd hidden to eat herself as a guilty pleasure from time to time.

  There were some new interesting chips and crackers as well. Parmesan Cheez-Its, of all things. And great big Wheat Thins, and a bag of York Peppermint Patties, which weren't anywhere on the list, but were displayed next to the checkout line.

  When she got home, she realized that the pantry also needed purging before she could put anything more in it. After hiding the ice cream behind a big bag of Texas Toast, she put away everything else that had to go in the fridge and started on the pantry.

  There were soggy potato chips, three remaining Cheez-Its occupying a big box, Pringles that had also lost their crispness due to a missing lid, a box of Bisquick that felt solidified, many half-filled bags of various sizes and shapes of pastas, and three boxes of instant stuffing that had dates on the boxes that were three years old.

  She was filling a trash bag when the phone rang.

  Setting down the bag, she picked up the kitchen phone.

  "Jane, it's Ted. Mother's gone."

  "Oh, Ted. I'm so sorry,"Jane said, trying hard to sound sincere.

  "Jane, not even I am that sorry," Ted said.

  "How did it happen? Another stroke?"

  "Not exactly. There were protective plastic-covered bars around her bed to keep her from accidentally falling out of it. Apparently she'd been watching how the release button worked on the right side. She was only paralyzed on her left side. She apparently pressed the release button, and left her right arm between the bars, and catapulted out of the bed."

  Jane smiled, and said, "Fighting life to the very last minute, wasn't she?"

  Ted said, "It was what she did best." She could tell by his voice that he, too, was smiling.

  "Was anybody in the room with her?" Jane asked.

  "Yes, one of the younger nurses. The nurse tried to catch her, but Mother was half again the nurse's height and weight and broke several of the nurse's fingers on the fall.

  Then she struck her head on the corner of the nightstand. They said she was dead before she even reached the floor."

  "You're not thinking of bringing legal suit against the nursing home, are you?"

  "Lord, no! Mother caused her own death, and injury to the nurse."

  "She'll be buried next to your father, I assume." "Yes, they bought four lots ages ago."

  "Let me know when the funeral will be, please."

  "Jane, you don't need to go. Dixie and the girls aren't even going. It's just going to be me and the church ladies. There will be a memorial service for our employees first."

  "I need to be there to help you fend off the church ladies, Ted."

  "I suppose that would help. I'll let you know the date as soon as I can."

  The memorial service for the local employees was planned for Tuesday, and the burial for Wednesday. Ted asked Jane if she could write up this information and turn it in to several of the local newspapers.

  It was the least she could do for Ted. Not Thelma.

  She was especially careful not to let her personal opinion show. Or anything emotional. Just where and when Thelma Johnson Jeffry had been born to start the piece. Jane had asked for this information when Mike was born and she was filling in his baby book. Too bad Katie and Todd didn't have baby books. Between Mike's birth and Katie's she'd been too busy learning to be a cook, dishwasher, and diaper-changing mother.

  Anyway, she had the information about Thelma, and said she was the widow of Elmer Jeffry, the founder of the Jeffry Pharmacy chain. Time and place of interment.

  She faxed the notice to three newspapers, one of which was a county paper, with local school district schedules, sports events, local crimes of note, town picnics, and scholarships. The other newspapers were full of ads for jobs, notices of new local restrictions, lost pets, a list of local births, marriages, divorces, and funerals.

  Jane called Mel and said, "It's Saturday and I've been to the grocery store. Please come for dinner. I'll have tons of summer food."

  She didn't tell him about Thelma yet. It wasn't something to announce over the phone.

  "How's my office coming along?"

  "Swell. But it won't be ready for you until after the weddings, since the dates have been changed."

  "I want to see it anyway. I'm starving. Can we eat at five?"

  "Of course."

  She prepared a big salad with pomegranate juice. The recipe called for one cup of juice, one cup of balsamic vinegar, a half teaspoon of olive oil, and one small egg yolk to emulsify it. Shake thoroughly, the recipe said. She took a taste when it was done and almost gasped at how good it was.

  She also made deviled eggs, thin shaved ham, and brown mustard on egg rolls. She covered them with plastic wrap and would warm them up later. She invited

  Shelley and Paul to come to dinner, but Paul was out of town on business. "Can my kids come along?"

  "The more the merrier,"Jane said. "I just bought more food than Todd and I can eat before it spoils. By the way, Thelma died in the nursing home today. I didn't want to tell you in front of the children. But I need to tell Todd as soon as he comes home from his summer class."

  "Will he be upset?" Shelley asked.

  "Probably not. I'll tell you why if you want to come over for a glass of raspberry-flavored iced tea."

  Shelley agreed with Jane and Ted that Thelma had fought to the end. "She wasn't a nice woman. Do you suppose she ever was?"

  "Well, she raised one good son. And another who wasn't."

  On Wednesday, Jane insisted on driving Ted to the cemetery. "If I drive, I can rescue you from the church ladies. How did the company memorial service go yesterday?"

  "Very well. My mother had written out a will about twelve years ago, at my insistence. She gave a gift of five hundred dollars to each manager of the pharmacies. Of course there were only four of them at that time, and now there are twelve. So everybody was happy."

  "Would you be comfortable telling me about the rest of the bequests?" Jane asked.

  "Of course. Since it's not a trust, it's not private. She gave the church a thousand dollars, and her third share

  of the profits to me. Since she never expected us to adopt children, there was no per stirpes mentioned. So our girls will inherit my share."

  "Ted, I'm so relieved to hear that. Especially since she had wills in mind and tried to forge an amendment to Steve's. And it's much, much better that your lovely little girls will have a good financial future someday."

  When they drove into the driveway to the cemetery, it was almost blocked with cars. The members of the church Thelma belonged to had turned out in droves. That would have pleased Thelma. As Jane pulled into the remaining parking area, she realized they'd been followed through the gates by the black cars of the funeral establishment.

  She'd always thought the procession of these cars was touching and dignified. She and Ted walked over to the grave site that Ted's father Elmer had bought decades ago for the whole family. There were rows of chairs set up around a deep grave that was covered with a white cloth.

  She noticed that the other people were almost entirely elderly women. Many of them as hard-faced and tough as Thelma. There was a scattered group of old men, mostly with walkers or in wheelchairs. There were also a few very short, tiny old women with dowager humps. They hadn't had access to drugs that kept their spines from collapsing.

  The service was relatively short. Many cloth handkerchiefs were raised to the ladies' faces. There were a huge number of floral tributes set around the sides of the grave. When the coffin was lowered, Jane glanced at Ted. Hisface showed no emotion whatsoever. He clearly wasn't grief stricken, but not showing what was probably a sense of relief either.

  After the service, some of the stronger l
adies took along a few of the floral tributes saying they'd look so good at the church. Most of them approached Ted, expressing their sympathy, which he accepted with grace. The last two to speak to him were two of the tougher women, one of whom said, "We're going back to church for a meal made for the mourners. You will be attending, won't you, Mr. Jeffry?"

  "I'm afraid I can't. I'm meeting with our attorney this afternoon to sort out the donations my mother specified. There is one for the church, I'm glad to say."

  "How nice of your mother. When will we know how much?"

  "Soon," Ted said.

  Another of the tiny ladies then came and took Ted's hand in both of hers, smiling. Jane thought she must have probably been the prettiest girl in school. And in spite of her wrinkles and abundant white hair, she still looked very good.

  She said, "I was hoping to see your wife and your darling babies here."

  "She couldn't find a babysitter for the girls," Ted said.

  "Oh, dear. We should have thought of providing one for you." She turned to Jane and said, "I remember you, Ms. Jeffry. I've missed seeing you and your children at church."

  "Two of them go to school and have summer jobs in other states," Jane said, shaking her hand. "I remember you, too, Mrs. Jefferson. You were their Sunday school teacher and they adored you. So did I."

  "How sweet of you. I hope we'll meet again. And my deepest sympathies to you, Mr. Jeffry. Your mother must have been a handful to work with."

  He smiled. "She certainly was."