1 The Ladybug Jinx

by Tonya Kappes

  Sam carefully picked up the tulip basket off the truck floorboard. The truck door squeaked and the lady that sat on the porch stood up. Her rocking chair creaked almost as loud as the door.

  Sam made a mental note to get some oil. Because it would be hard staying incognito or going unnoticed with that noise and what was the purpose of the truck if it was going to bring attention to him.

  “Are you, Ms. Greenlee?” Sam held the basket close to his side. The mason jar of tea, next to her, would taste good right now, Sam thought.

  Hazel Greenlee put her hands up to her mouth and asked, “For me?”

  Sam saw the spark in her eye. This was what made his heart soar. You couldn’t act this good in movies. The real life joy was definitely hard to imitate.

  “If you are…” Sam stumbled over his words and looked at the card, “Hazel Greenlee.”

  She put her hands out to take the basket. “Yes, I am.” She smiled from ear to ear taking the tulips straight up to her nose after she took them and smelling each one.

  “Enjoy.” Sam started to walk away, but stopped when she continued to talk.

  “I bet they’re from my Granddaughter who’s a lawyer in New York City.” Pride over came her.

  “You must be proud.” Sam hated lawyers. They were always telling him what to do, what was in the best interest of his career.

  Hazel stood up, and laid the card next to the tea. “Where are my manners? Let me get you a glass of tea.”

  “No thank you.” Sam really wanted to say yes. “I’ve got more flowers to deliver.”

  “Um, hmm. I heard from Mamie how you took over for Marty. That job was killing him.” Hazel shouted through the screen door.

  Sam didn’t know whether to leave or listen to her yelling from inside her house.

  “Here ya go.” Hazel handed Sam a plastic cup filled with sweet tea. “You have to take it. If you don’t, superstition has it that you’ll have bad luck.”

  Sam’s eyebrow raised in amused contempt. “What?”

  “If someone offers you something from their home, you take it or you will have bad luck.” Hazel’s voice was stern. She wasn’t joking.

  “Okay.” Sam took the cup. “Have a nice day.”

  “Oh, they are from the city council.” Sam turned to watch Hazel open her card. “Some big wig company wants to come in here and build an outlet mall on my property. Can you imagine that?” She twirled her finger in the air, outlining her yard. “This is a working farm, not a shopping ground.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” Sam wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say.

  “You know, Celia Briggs is single.” Hazel hollered just as Sam trotted down her porch steps.

  “I’m just the delivery boy.” Sam waved bye.

  There was no denying that Celia Briggs was a beautiful woman. Sam wasn’t in the market.

  “I see.” Clara peered at him with a leering eye. “Thank you for the flowers. It really made my day.”

  “Oh, and if you need a hair-cut, go see my other granddaughter down at The Hair Pin.” Hazel continued to yell. “Ask for Belle Greenlee.”

  Sam walked back to his car wondering if Hazel Greenlee was related to the Greenlee’s of Greenlee’s Hardware, but he wasn’t about to ask.

  Plus Sam hadn’t thought about Bianca in a couple hours. That was the longest length of time since her death he hadn’t replayed a memory he had of her.

  The last delivery in Wilmore was further than he anticipated. The 88’ Chevy crept along the windy road. The Veterans Home sat overlooking the mountains. It reminded Sam of a movie backdrop. Growing up in a single parent home in LA, he was well traveled to exotic parts of the world, but never his own homeland.

  The drive way to the Veterans Home was lined on both sides with tall oaks that must’ve been hundreds of years old. Sam drove slowly underneath the canvas of fall colors. Another first. LA doesn’t get the changing of the seasons and coloring of the leaves. The reds, oranges, yellows, brown and greens were like a real life painting.

  He followed the visitor’s signs and pulled up to the front. He wasn’t about to park in the parking lot and walk.

  Sam didn’t know the protocol for delivering flowers. He hoped it wasn’t an old woman that smelled. His mother used to tell him, “Please don’t put me in a home for the nearly dead.” Sam used to laugh at her because her worst fear was going crazy.

  “Can I help you?” The receptionist could tell Sam was lost. The inside wasn’t nearly what he expected. The interior was like a resort. It had a couple waterfalls with big leather chairs. An open café style restaurant with café seating and sky lights added just the touch to make it feel like a spa. Only it was filled with older people talking, drinking coffee and laughing.

  “I am at the right place, right?” Sam showed the receptionist the card.

  “Yes. You will find his room down the west hall.” The receptionist pointed, “Mr. Donahue isn’t an early riser so he likes to watch the sun set over the mountains. I have to admit it is beautiful.”

  Sam didn’t strike up any conversation. He found it odd that people just started talking, telling you their life story. He did what he was told. Sam walked straight towards the west hallway with his focus on door number two. Of course door number two was at the end of the hallway. Sam laughed. The doors were decorated with wreaths or other ornamental items which was odd to him.

  “Door number two.” Sam said, “No decorations. My kinda guy.” Sam knocked on the door louder than he normally would.

  “I’m not deaf. Old maybe.” The elderly gentleman opened the door with a smile as wide as the Cumberland Gap. Quickly the smile turned into disappointment, not the usual greeting you get when receiving flowers.

  “I am assuming these are for you.” Sam held the white tulips for the man to take. “Second set of tulips I’ve delivered today.”

  The gentleman stared at him.

  “No name so I am leaving them with you.” Sam shook the flowers toward him again.

  The man grabbed the vase and shut the door in Sam face.

  “Alrighty then.” Sam bit his lip. He’d always heard old people were crotchety but he never been around any.

  *

  He took his time getting back to the florist shop. His Blackberry was in the truck glove box. Sam pulled over at the scenic view. It took him a minute, but he did press the red button. He had been gone a while and it was time to see if they were still looking for him.

  “Sam, got a great deal to discuss with you.” Sam’s agent sounded excited. “Where are you?”

  “Dude, call me.”

  “Sam, I checked with your publicist and they don’t have you away. Where are you?”

  “I’m standing in your house and you’re not here.” There was panic in his agent’s voice. “Did you hook up with a girl? Not that I would mind because you need to have sex.”

  “I am seriously about to call the police if you don’t call me.” His agent sounded more pissed than worried. “This isn’t good for your image Sam. Have you gone off the deep end?”

  Sam hit the erase key without listening to the other messages. He didn’t care. He wasn’t ready to go back.

  Sam could get on the internet with his phone, but he dared not do it. He didn’t want them tracing his phone. Or was that just in movies, Sam thought. His reality was so skewed from being an actor, he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.

  Celia was putting the finishing touches when Sam finally got back to the shop.

  “It will be ready in a minute.” She called to Sam. “How did the deliveries go?”

  “They were fine.” Sam didn’t feel like talking.

  “You found everything okay?” Celia looked up.

  “I met some very interesting people today.”

  “Like who?” Celia asked.

  Sam watched her hands glide along the stems quickly and precisely.

  “Hazel Greenlee for one.” Sam sat the empty cup on the counter. “She wouldn’t let me
leave unless I took some…”

  Celia interrupted. “Tea. She’s very superstitious. And the match-maker in town.”

  Sam wasn’t about to tell her that he figured that one out.

  “Is she related to Jenna Greenlee?” Sam felt like he was doing research for a new movie role.

  “That’s her daughter.” Celia confirmed.

  “She doesn’t look old enough to have a grown daughter.”

  Damn, Sam thought. There must be something to this clean country air, if it keeps you looking young.

  “What? She doesn’t. Jenna’s daughter is in middle school.” There was question in her eyes.

  “Who’s the lawyer in New York?”

  Celia laughed in sheer joy. “Hazel Greenlee must’ve covered all the bases, including Belle?”

  Sam ran his hands through his hair that was much longer than usual. Part of his disguise. “Yes.”

  “Hazel raised Belle and her sister, Maggie. Maggie is the lawyer.”

  “Oh.” Sam decided to drop it. There was way too much history for him to learn, when he wasn’t going to be in town long enough to get to know any of them anyways.

  “Did she tell you about the eminent domain?” Celia arranged the last of the flowers in the vase.

  “Briefly. I’m sure her granddaughter will help her.”

  Celia smacked the pliers on the counter. “Oh, no. Maggie is never to know about it. Hazel will make sure of that. Besides, Hazel has a year to fight it.”

  Sam eyed the computer on the desk in the office part of the shop. “Can I use your computer?”

  “Nothing porn.” Celia smiled.

  Sam didn’t find it funny. He never needed porn to fulfill his needs and she wasn’t going to be personal now.

  He never looked on tabloid web sites, but if he was missing and his agent started looking around, the tabloids would be all over it.

  He moved the cursor on the Google search. “P-e-o-p-l-e.” He whispered aloud pecking with his pointer finger. He scoured the screen looking for his name. He clicked on the celebrity icon where it showed pictures of him at his latest premiere. It wasn’t unusual for him to take several months off after a film.

  “Los Angeles actor devoted to sick fiancé.” The headline read. He clicked on the title and a picture of him and his beautiful Bianca stood on the Italian Riviera. She loved it there.

  “Can’t we stay here and live on the beach?” She begged him. Shortly after, she found the lump in her breast and the chaos began.

  Quickly he erased the history so Celia couldn’t trace what he was doing and shut the computer off. He couldn’t look at her picture. He couldn’t think about their life.

  “These are ready.” Celia was gluing in the last ladybug. “Are you okay?”

  He felt flush. “I’m fine.”

  Sam put the last of his deliveries in the truck. Charlie followed him back and forth into the shop. “Is this the last for the day?” Sam wanted her to say yes. He was emotionally exhausted and wanted to get back to his efficiency.

  “Yes.” Celia sounded curious and he wasn’t about to entertain her.

  Sam got into the truck, leaving a dust trail in his path.

  “Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower.”

  Albert Camus

  6

  Celia’s mind drifted to the look on Sam’s face as she watched the dust settle from his truck. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. He had definitely done a complete 180 degrees from the fast talking outsider this morning.

  “Hmm.” Celia looked down at Charlie and talked to him like he was human or understood her. “I told you there was something about him.”

  Celia tilted her head up towards the sky and let the sun give her a good dose of vitamin D. The warmth made her muse soar and she sure could use a creative burst. She gets so lost in her arrangements and forgets to take breaks for herself.

  Before walking back into the shop, she stops to pick up a few freshly fallen leaves to go with the next arrangement for a funeral. Funerals take a lot out of her creative process. She always remembers her grandfather’s death and positions each flower as if she was arranging her grandfather’s.

  At her mother’s funeral, Celia had arranged her own flower spread to top her mother’s casket. All the town was raving how beautiful it was and Celia knew she was free to start her business. Celia strained to remember her grandfather’s death. The last time she saw him, he was a picture of health. But what did she know, she was a child.

  Celia resented her mother for not taking her to his funeral or even telling her he had died. When Celia would ask her, her mom blew her off and didn’t want to talk about it. Celia’s father only responded, “Ask your mother.” Celia got so tired of asking her mother, she just accepted what was.

  “The Ladybug.” Celia laid the leaves on the table as she cradled the phone on her shoulder. Immediately she began to arrange the leaves in the funeral spread.

  “Cee, we still having dinner?” Marty asked.

  “Hey, dad.” Celia was used to seeing her father first thing in the morning. It was his first day and she didn’t want to disturb his new found freedom. “What have you been doing?” Celia didn’t want him to slip back into the deep depression he was in over a year ago.

  “I ran some errands, and did a few things around the house.”

  “Oh good. You should plant those bulbs I gave you in the front flower bed.” She was happy to hear he wasn’t a couch potato the first day. Maybe this year, she’d be able to attend to her garden instead of her dad’s. “Yes, dinner tonight is good. And don’t worry with the last of the deliveries. I sent them with Sam.”

  “Ah, Sam. How is that working out?” Marty had a pleased tone in his question.

  “Fine dad. Just an employee.” Celia liked the way Sam’s nose was long and narrow. His strong jaw line appealed to her. “Just an employee,” she sighed.

  She didn’t want to go there. Anyone could see Sam was crazy handsome and a little more sophisticated than most men she came across. Plus he seemed intelligent. All of those combined was a disaster for her and she knew to keep him at arm’s length.

  Feelings only got in the way of her life. First the loss of her grandfather left her with a feeling of emptiness. Not being able to say goodbye to him always haunted her mind.

  Then there was her mother. Always trying to live up to her expectations, left Celia feeling like a failure. Even when Celia landed her first internship at a well known law firm was not well known enough for her mother. Her father stood out of the way, paralyzed by fear from what her mother would do to him. Privately he always told Celia he was proud of her.

  When her mother died, although Celia grieved, privately she was aware she was going to be able to live her life. Even with men, Celia’s mother never approved.

  Working with the flowers was Celia’s way of getting lost in her thoughts and spending the rest of the afternoon finishing up the funeral was a welcome task for her.

  The entire florist smelled of fresh flowers and fresh roast. It was heaven to her senses. She took a moment to go upstairs and check on the roast. She was glad her father still wanted to spend time with her.

  Celia opened the oven door and used the oven-mitt to pull out the cast-iron cooker. She held her head to the side when she lifted the lid so she wouldn’t get a roast facial.

  “Ahh…” Celia inhaled deeply. She was sure the next best smell to flowers was a good roast.

  “Celia?”

  Sam’s voice startled her.

  “Stop,” she muttered under her breathe to stop her mind. For a moment she wondered if Sam smelled better than the roast. “Coming.”

  How did she not hear the bell? It was a bad sign Charlie didn’t signal Sam’s arrival.

  Celia bounded down the stairs until she heard Sam talking to someone, then she tip-toed to the last step. Maybe it was someone from his past, Celia’s curiosity was up.

  “The Camellia is a beautiful flower.” She heard Sam
say. The freezer door’s pressure broke when he opened the door. “Plus it blooms in the winter.”

  “I don’t know. It’s not as pretty as the rose.” Another voice caught Celia off guard.

  Celia peeked around the corner to see Sam talking to Mitch Dozier, Grandberry Falls’ young mayor.

  “Hey, Mitch.” Celia grabbed a hand full of curls and flung them behind her shoulders. She always thought he would move on after lengthy years of caring for his ailing mother when she died, but he didn’t. “How’s the town?”

  Celia made a spot right between Mitch and Sam.

  “All is good in the big city.” His six-foot frame stood over her like a tall soldier. She wasn’t used to Mitch sporting a spikier hair-cut from his normal longer locks. “I can hardly keep up with the growth.”

  “Celia, I was just telling Mitch about the Camellia. Our customer wants to have the perfect flowers for a special night.” He looked at the Mitch and smiled. “I suggested the Camellia because we just got them in and they are fresh. Plus all flowers have a meaning and did you know Camellia means my destiny is in your hands.”

  Celia saw the approving eye brow raise from Mitch. “Customer? Mitch is a long time friend.” Celia put her hands on Mitch’s arm, and looked at Sam and arched her brows.

  “Sold! I’ll take the entire bucket.” Mitch turned directly talking to Sam. Celia chalked it up to a man thing. Or maybe Mitch was completely uncomfortable with how Celia was acting.

  “Great. Celia is the master designer.” Sam gave a weak smile to Celia’s glare. “She will take over from here.” Celia took the bucket from Sam and continued back to the old farm table.

  Mitch didn’t follow her. She could hear the male banter about a recent football game. She needed this moment alone in the back clipping the stems and putting them in a couple different vases. Looking at Sam was definitely pleasing to her eyes, but listening to him discuss flowers and their meaning was downright sexy.

  Sam turning on that switch inside her made her nervous and uncomfortable. Actually he scared her to death.

  She shook her curls loosely, stood tall and picked up the vases to make her grand re-entrance.