She pushed her walker down the hallway, through the family room, and into the lobby. It was early afternoon and Happy Haven was busy with residents and guests milling about. Phyllis was manning the front desk as usual. Several other staff members, including Sue Barber and Violet Hendrickson, were behind the desk looking through files in the small office immediately behind the front desk. Two men entered the main door carrying a sofa. Essie assumed that either one of the residents had ordered new furniture or someone was moving in. When someone moved in, it typically meant that a resident had moved out. That also typically meant that a resident had died. Essie hadn’t heard through the grapevine that anyone had passed away recently so she was curious who the sofa belonged to.
A group of card players in the family room laughed and caught her attention. Essie moved closer to the front desk. Several residents were lined up, probably waiting to sign out or in. Essie waited her turn.
“Essie!” said Phyllis. “I haven’t seen you all day! What were those police officers doing in your apartment earlier?” Phyllis asked the question Essie was dreading and the one she had been preparing for even though Phyllis didn’t seem that curious about it.
“Oh, that,” replied Essie as casually as possible. “I’ve been getting some annoying phone calls. The police were out to talk to me about them. It appears those calls are part of some widespread senior scam going on around the country. Those idiots tried to sell me land in Florida!” She shrugged her shoulders as if to say her problem was just the tip of the iceberg.
“Oh, no!” replied Phyllis, fumbling though a pile of cards she was sorting. “I hope they didn’t take any of your money?”
“No, joe!” said Essie with a little punch of her fist. “I’m too smart for that!”
“I bet you are, Essie!” replied Phyllis, smiling warmly. “What about that secret admirer of yours?” she asked suddenly. “Did you ever find out who he was?”
“Not yet,” said Essie in a louder voice. Phyllis had now tackled the subject that truly interested Essie and she was happy to plant the information that she was sure would be heard by other residents and staff and spread as gossip around Happy Haven in no time flat. “But I’m trying to find out who he is! After all, he sent me such a beautiful valentine!”
“I heard about that card, Essie!” exclaimed Phyllis, setting down her work. “I’d love to see it!”
“Oh, show her, Miss Essie!” said Sue Barber from further back behind the front desk. “It’s really beautiful!”
“I’d like to see it too!” added Violet Hendrickson, standing next to Sue. She gave Essie a warm smile, a totally unexpected gesture from the otherwise imposing Happy Haven director.
“Oh, sorry, Phyllis,” replied Essie, “I’m late for a…a…meeting right now. Don’t have time to show it to you!” She quickly pushed her walker away from the front desk and back into the family room. Phyllis shrugged her shoulders to the two other staff women and returned to her file counting.
Essie plopped herself down in a large armchair, out of view of the front desk.
“I handled that well,” she said. Unfortunately, she realized that it would be a difficult juggling act to indicate to the people she encountered that she still had the valentine tucked away in her walker and then not take it out and show it to them. She’d probably need some sort of valid excuse that would explain why she claimed to have the card but was unwilling to show it. She sat lost in thought, the wheels on her walker rolling slightly back and forth in reflection of her thought process.
She looked up just in time to see Santos go whizzing through the lobby carrying a covered food tray. The young man headed down her hallway. From where she was sitting, Essie could follow Santos with her eyes all the way to the end of the hallway. As he had done earlier in the day, Santos turned left when he reached the end of the corridor.
Hmm, thought Essie. I wonder if he’s going back to Grace Bloom’s apartment again. Why would he be taking her a tray of food when she obviously isn’t ill? Essie’s thought were suddenly drawn from attempting to devise the appropriate retort when anyone asked about her secret admirer valentine to trying to figure out why Grace Bloom was getting an invalid’s treatment from Santos.
She remained seated but kept her eyes focused on her hallway. This was a good time to be quiet and see what might happen. Her eyes were frozen on the hallway, waiting for either Santos to return with an empty tray or Grace Bloom to appear. She stayed that way, looking down her own hallway for a long time but neither of the two individuals showed themselves. What could be going on? Surely there wasn’t anything romantic occurring. Grace was at least eighty and Santos must be no older than thirty. Besides, Essie knew that he had a girlfriend about whom she and her tablemates had heard a great deal. No, it couldn’t be anything so salacious. She didn’t dare go to Grace’s apartment and knock on her door as she had the day before. If Santos was there or if he wasn’t, Grace would be more than suspicious of Essie showing up for a second day in a row. No, she’d have to figure out this mystery on her own.
As she sat there contemplating her possible actions, Sue Barber and Violet Hendrickson walked through the lobby and the family room and down the far hallway that led to the chapel, the beauty parlor, and several other locations at Happy Haven.
“Essie!” exclaimed Sue as she almost tripped over her. “I didn’t see you there!”
“Sorry, Miss Barber!” said Essie, pulling her walker closer and tucking her feet under the chair.
“Oh, don’t be!” replied Sue. “I should watch where I’m going!” She smiled at Essie, and then motioned to Violet and the two women continued down the far hallway. Violet gave Essie a long, expressionless glance as she passed.
That woman gives me the creeps, thought Essie. Essie always tried to stay out of Violet’s way. The Happy Haven director seemed to enjoy flaunting her authority and tended to make the elderly residents often feel more like misbehaving children in an elementary school than responsible adults. After all, reasoned Essie, I pay good money to live here. I don’t expect to be treated like an inmate. Oh, well, she’s only one person. The rest of the staff were exceptionally pleasant and helpful and Essie loved her three friends, Opal, Marjorie, and Fay.
The diversion of the two staff members passing her caused Essie to lose track of her observation of her hallway. Where was Santos? It had been quite some time since he’d gone down there with that tray. How long did it take to deliver food to someone? This was certainly a mystery. Not the major mystery of the identity of her secret admirer and his intended recipient, slash Happy Haven drug dealer, but a mystery just the same. My, oh purty pie! she thought. I’m really becoming a detective. Two mysteries to solve. I’d better get busy, because so far I haven’t had much success at all in solving either.
Sue Barber and Violet Hendrickson returned down the far hallway off the family room, apparently returning to the front desk or to their offices which were directly off the main entrance, next to the dining hall. They moved past Essie without comment, both smiling politely at her. Essie returned their courteous gesture as she followed them with her eyes back to the lobby. Then she returned her concern to her own hallway. People were going up and down the corridor, but so far neither Santos nor Grace Bloom had made an appearance.
This is ridiculous! Essie thought. I could wait here all day for one of them to appear. Grace could just stay in her room indefinitely and maybe Santos left the building through a back entrance. She realized there were other ways to enter and exit Happy Haven besides the main entrance, but residents were required to sign in and out whenever they left the facilities. Maybe Santos had returned to the kitchen through some back hallway of which she wasn’t even aware. Well, she’d find out at dinner. She resolved to figure out another way to determine what was going on with Grace Bloom and Santos. She wasn’t going to just sit in this out of the way chair indefinitely.
She stood up and rolled her walker into the family room. The group of card players she had he
ard earlier was still going strong. As she moved closer to them, she recognized several of the members.
“Essie!” called out Dave Esperti. He waved at her then looked back down at his cards and scowled.
Essie rolled over to the table. Here was an opportunity to test her valentine story and spread the word that she still had the card in her possession.
Chapter Eighteen
“Love is that delightful interval between meeting a girl and discovering that she looks like a haddock.”
—John Barrymore
“Hey, Essie!” said Dave as she pushed herself over to the corner of the card table, greeting all four players in the process. In addition to Dave, the others included Hubert Darby, Betsy Rollingford, and one other woman Essie didn’t recognize.
“Hello,” said Essie warmly to the group.
“How’s my girl?” asked Dave, patting Essie affectionately on the elbow.
“I’m not your girl,” responded Essie lightly, glancing over at Hubert. She knew that Hubert fancied himself her boyfriend and as his romantic gestures were harmless she never really discouraged him. Besides, Hubert was so shy that she wanted to give him confidence when she could. Dave was a different story. He didn’t lack any confidence that Essie could tell.
“Oh, saving your heart for that secret admirer, I see!” said Dave broadly for the group. Hubert snorted and looked down at his cards. Betsy also concentrated on her hand. Apparently she hadn’t revealed anything to this group about the excitement with the cocaine and the police.
“A secret admirer!” cried the fourth card player. “My goodness! How exciting! Do you have any idea who he is?”
“No,” replied Essie to the woman. “But he did send me a beautiful valentine!” She emphasized this last part to make certain that this woman had all the information she needed to spread the word about Essie’s card. The more gossip out there, the more likely it would be that the originally intended recipient would hear of it and attempt to get it back.
“I’m Nadine Montrose,” the woman said, reaching out and shaking hands with Essie.
“Essie Cobb,” replied Essie.
“Didn’t you get a card from a secret admirer last year, Betsy?” asked Nadine.
“Umm,” said Betsy, obviously not anxious to become involved in the discussion. “Yes, I did, but it was stolen soon after I got it.”
“Oh, no!” cried Nadine. “How terrible! Essie, you’d better hang on to yours in case someone is out there swiping Valentine ’s Day cards!” She giggled at her cleverness, and Essie smiled at her sweetly. She didn’t realize how true her warning was. “Can we see it, Essie? Your card, I mean.”
“Oh, I really don’t…” Essie mumbled. She was flustered as she tried to contemplate a reasonable excuse for not showing the card.
“Now, Nadine,” said Betsy, leaping into the conversation all of a sudden. “This is a personal matter. Essie received this card from a man. It probably has a very private message on it. She probably doesn’t want to share this very private moment with everyone here at Happy Haven.” Betsy emphasized “private” and “personal” as she chastised Nadine for asking to view the card.
Essie mentally thanked Betsy for her help in deflecting attention from the now non-existent valentine.
“Hey, Essie,” said Dave, “If you don’t really want to show us your super private valentine, from that super secret admirer of yours, maybe it’s because he’s not real.”
“What?” asked Essie. Had Dave Esperti figured out her ploy? She didn’t think she was doing that badly in covering her attempts to convey information about the card and the fact that she still had it.
“I said maybe your secret admirer isn’t real,” he repeated pointedly.
“He’s real, Dave,” said Essie. “Just because I don’t want to wave my valentine all around Happy Haven doesn’t mean I don’t have it and it doesn’t exist!” Now, Essie, she thought to herself, don’t overdo it.
“Did you really get a valentine from a secret admirer, Miss Essie?” asked Hubert Darby, looking up at Essie suddenly, his big eyes drooping soulfully. It appeared that he hadn’t heard the recent conversation or didn’t believe it. Essie glanced from his sad face to that of the face of the spirited Dave Esperti. Why and how did she get herself in these pickles?
“Gentlemen,” said Betsy to the men at the table, “really, I do declare! You are both putting Essie on the spot! It’s not polite to press a lady about her gentlemen callers like this.” Betsy gave stern glances to both Hubert and Dave. The two men shriveled at her expression and refocused on their cards.
“Trump!” yelled Nadine suddenly. She laid down a card on top of one Hubert had just played. With a gleeful smile, she gathered the trick and placed it on her pile. “You see what happens when you get involved in conversation and forget about the game!” Dave scowled and scratched his head. Hubert sucked on his lower lip and stared at his lap. Betsy took a deep breath and gave Essie a very brief smile.
“She’s right!” added Betsy. “Let’s focus on cards and not on Essie’s secret admirer!”
“Would you like to play for me, Essie?” asked Nadine. “I need to get back to my room. I have a doctor appointment later today and my daughter will be here to pick me up shortly.”
“That would be lovely,” replied Essie, as she scooted herself into the chair that Nadine was deserting. The two men now perked up as Essie joined their group.
“So,” said Essie. “What game is this?”
“Hearts,” answered Hubert and then blushed.
“I like Hearts,” replied Essie. Dave dealt a new hand and Essie quickly joined in the fun. Soon, the four residents were having a good time, laughing and talking. There was no more discussion of Essie’s secret admirer valentine, although Essie was certain that the issue hadn’t been forgotten. As the afternoon progressed, Dave and Hubert seemed to be vying with each other to win Essie’s attention and affection. Essie found the entire enterprise humorous. The best thing about playing cards with her friends right here in the center of the family room, thought Essie, was that it gave her an excellent view of her hallway. If Santos or Grace Bloom came down the corridor she would be certain to see them.
As it became closer to five o’clock and Essie hadn’t seen either of her intended targets come down the hallway, she was beginning to get anxious. Maybe Grace really was ill. Maybe Santos was staying in her room to nurse her. That didn’t make sense. Why would a kitchen worker play nurse maid to a resident? Surely, if Grace were ill one of the facility’s nurse aides would be there to assist her. What was going on? Essie played a card and ended the latest round of Hearts. Dave and Hubert cried “foul!” Of course, they were only teasing. Essie and Betsy enjoyed rubbing in their victory.
As Essie looked up, she saw Grace Bloom walking briskly down her hallway. The woman did not appear to be sick. She had her cane with her but her pace was even and relatively quick. Grace did not look towards the family room so she did not see Essie sitting at the card table watching her approach. When Grace came into the family room and moved through the lobby, she walked immediately to the dining hall where a line was just beginning to form for the first dinner seating. This must be, she believed, where she had previously seen Grace Bloom. Although Essie always ate during the second seating, she’d probably seen Grace Bloom departing the dining hall at times when she had been lining up for her seating.
The card players were calling it quits for the day. Each resident needed to return to their individual apartments to clean up before dinner. Essie pushed in the chair at the table, rose, and grabbed her walker and started to head back down her hallway. On her way, she rolled around into the lobby where she could see Grace Bloom standing in line. Grace was having a spirited conversation with another woman. Grace did not appear to be sick or upset. Where is Santos? wondered Essie. Was he still in Grace’s apartment while she was down at dinner? And if so, why? Why would Grace need a kitchen worker to bring her a tray of food when she was going to d
inner anyway? Was she that hungry? Grace didn’t appear to be inordinately large. Maybe she had some metabolic disease and required more than a normal amount of food. Oh, that’s ridiculous! thought Essie. There must be a logical reason for this.
I know, she thought. I’ll just make another visit to Grace. If she’s not at home—which she obviously isn’t—we’ll just have to see who answers her door and what explanation they give. Essie rolled her walker around out of the lobby and back through the family room. She turned right down the corridor that entered her hallway, past her own doorway, and down to the end of her hall. There, she turned left and pushed her vehicle down the carpet, counting the doorways on the left as she went. Five doorways down she read on the door sign, “Grace Bloom.” She moved up to the door and gave a short knock.
From inside she could hear lots of muffled noises. There were what appeared to be sounds of scuffling and whispering. What is going on? she wondered. She called out. “Grace! Are you there?” She knocked again, but despite the muffled noises that she could definitely hear from deep inside Grace Bloom’s apartment, no one came to answer her door.
Tentatively, Essie grabbed the door knob and turned. The door was locked. Locked! How can that be? she thought. Virtually no one at Happy Haven locked their doors. If a resident got sick, nurses had to be able to get inside quickly. Yet, there was no doubt. Grace Bloom’s apartment door was locked. And despite the fact that someone was apparently inside, no one appeared to be willing to answer the door.
Should she call out to Santos? She thought he might be inside. She had seen him enter this very apartment the day before. She knew that Grace Bloom was presently in line for dinner. She didn’t think that Santos—if he was inside—was in any danger. Surely, no danger from Grace Bloom. Whatever was going on, it appeared to be something that they both were involved in. Something that they obviously didn’t want anyone else—including her—to know about.
Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 03 - Valentined Page 11
