The Blossom Sisters

Chapter 8


THE BLACKNESS OUTSIDE THE OLD FARMHOUSE TURNED BLINDING white. And then the earsplitting sound of the lightning striking something close by brought everyone to a standstill. The old house rumbled again as Gus ran to the front door, his grandmother and aunts right behind him. “It hit the old sycamore again!” He could feel the anxiety of the three women as he opened the front door to stare at the destruction in the front yard.

Gus loved that old tree. Once, a long time ago, there had been a fort nestled among its branches, with a sturdy ladder some handyman had built on his grandmother’s orders. He and Barney had practically lived in the fort during good weather. His grandmother would bring out food, and they’d hoist it up in a bucket from a pulley that same handyman had installed. He’d fallen out of the tree when he was nine and had his first broken bone, his arm. Five days later, Barney had fallen out and broken his ankle. Both of them wore casts, and they’d played tic-tac-toe on both casts for the six weeks they’d had to wear them. They’d staked claim to the old sycamore that same year and carved their names in it along with the date. Now it was gone. Gus could feel his eyes start to burn. Gone. The way his old life was gone. And the new life he had, just plain old sucked. Big-time.

“There’s nothing left to it. Nothing at all,” he said sadly. “Do you think when they come to chop it up, you can ask them if they can save the bark where Barney and I carved our names? I’d like to . . . what I mean is . . . never mind. I know you three aren’t in the business of doing me any favors. I can’t believe it’s gone.” The lump in Gus’s throat was the size of a golf ball, making it hard to swallow.

“We’ll ask,” his grandmother said curtly. “Close the door, Augustus, the rain is coming in.” Gus slammed the door shut and shot the deadbolt.

“We should get on with this,” Violet said. “We’re losing valuable work hours with this tour.”

“Violet is right; let’s just do it and get it over with.” Rose nodded as she opened the door to what had once been her beloved husband’s library. It was a handsome room, with wall-to-wall bookshelves, a massive fieldstone fireplace, and a stunning oriental rug, which seemed to grow more beautiful with the years. Gus remembered sitting in that room and listening to his grandfather read to him. His grandfather had died when Gus was twelve, and he remembered that his mother and father had not even come home for the funeral. It was after that that his aunts had come to live with him and Granny Rose.

The drapes were gone, replaced with shutters, which seemed to throw the room off kilter even though they matched the bookshelves. The books were gone now, packed away in boxes in the attic. The shelves held manila folders, mailing envelopes, files of every color and description. There were boxes with lids on and initials scrawled on the sides for easy identification.

Gus looked around as he tried to understand what he was seeing. His grandfather’s antique desk was gone. He and Barney used to hide under it. In its place were long folding tables that held six computers. Another table held four fax machines. A third table held four copiers. A fourth held nine telephones, the old-fashioned landline kind. Gus blinked. His first thought was wild and crazy: Were these ditzy oldsters running a bookie joint? He didn’t mean to blurt the words out, but he did. His grandmother looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “That’s too silly to dignify with a response.”

“What is all this?” Gus insisted, waving his arms about.

“Hit it, Iris!” Rose said.

Iris smiled and sat down at one of the computers and clicked away for several seconds. She got up and motioned for Gus to take her seat. “Check it out! Just scroll down, and everything is there.” She moved off to stand to the side with her sisters. “I almost wish we smoked, because we could light up now. We don’t even have any gum,” she whispered as she eyed her nephew, who looked like he’d gotten caught in a horror movie.

“He isn’t going to take this very well,” Rose whispered to her sisters.

“And do we care about that?” Violet said out the corner of her mouth. Her sisters ignored the comment.

Ten minutes went by, then three more, before Gus swiveled his chair around to stare at his grandmother and the aunts. “It’s an impressive Web site. Whoever did it knew what they were doing. What is Initial B Enterprises?”

The three sisters’ chests puffed out. “We are Initial B Enterprises—us, and all the people you saw earlier. It’s our business,” Rose said. “Iris, show Augustus our financial records.”

Iris moved to another computer and clicked the keys. “Even you, nephew, should be able to understand this, you being a certified public accountant and all.” She got up and waved her arm with a flourish to indicate Gus should take her seat.

The fine hairs on the back of Gus’s neck stood on end as he eyed the screen in front of him. The sisters huddled, not taking their eyes off Gus as they waited for his reaction.

When it came, it wasn’t what they expected. “Who handles the accounting? Do you have a lawyer? What am I, chopped liver? You didn’t trust me to help you? For God’s sake, is this even real? Most important, is what you’re doing legal?”

Rose sucked in her breath and tried to straighten her round shoulders and stand tall. “You are in no position to ask us any questions, because what we do is none of your business. But because my sisters and I do not want you storming around here trying to ruin our lives, I will respond. Yes, of course it’s legal. We have one of the best lawyers in the state working for us. And our accounting firm is top-notch, one you used to lust after but where you couldn’t get hired. I don’t know if you’re chopped liver or not, Augustus. None of us know what you are anymore. We did not want to involve you. You young people are so irresponsible, and you proved us right. And, yes, it’s real.”

Gus threw his hands in the air. “What is it you do? I mean . . . how did you generate so much money? What exactly are you selling? It was hard . . . this does not make one bit of sense to me. No offense, but you’re old ladies. This is . . . who invests your money?”

“Goldman Sachs! And a fine job they’ve done for us, as you can readily see!” Violet said smartly. “We’re all millionaires. You certainly can’t quibble with the numbers, now, can you?”

Gus rubbed at his temples. His headache was back.

“And you never told me. Even back before . . . well, before.”

“You wouldn’t have understood. You were young, full of spit and vinegar. You thought then the way you think now. That because we’re old, we should be put out to pasture. We were going to tell you at one point, but then you got yourself involved with that gold digger, and we couldn’t take the chance. Can you even imagine what she would do if she knew about all of this? That’s why we took you out of our wills,” Rose said.

“You took me out of your wills!” Gus yelped in horror.

“Oh, this is just too much. I can’t deal with stupid,” Violet said as she made her way to the door.

“Wait! Hold on here! I wasn’t talking about money. I don’t care about that. I thought we were family. You’re all I have. If you take me out of your wills, that means I’m practically an orphan. I don’t want to be an orphan!” Gus realized how ridiculous he sounded, but he didn’t care. “I don’t have any parents. You three were my parents. So, are you saying you disowned me and didn’t even tell me?” There was such hurt, such outrage in Gus’s eyes, the sisters backed up a step.

“Well, maybe you aren’t so stupid after all,” Violet said, her faded blue eyes sparkling. “We thought of it as a temporary thing that could be corrected at some point in time. We’re leaving our money to no-kill animal shelters across the nation, to shelters for battered women, and, of course, to children’s agencies.”

“That’s great. It’s your money, you can do whatever you want with it. But couldn’t you at least leave me a dollar so I’m in the will?”

“We did leave you ten dollars,” Iris said. Gus deflated like a pricked balloon.

“I know this sounds stupid, but does Barney know about all of this?” Gus asked.

“No, not really, but he is the one who got us the people who made up the Web page. He got us the best of the best. Barney never asked why, he just said okay, and his people contacted us. He had the good sense not to ask questions,” Rose said.

“We’re wasting time,” Violet said. “Are we going to give him the tour, or is this it?”

“I want the damned tour,” Gus blustered. “I want to know everything about Initial B Enterprises. In case you get arrested and go to jail. I cannot believe what you are doing is legal.”

The sisters rolled their eyes, and they all trooped out the door and down the hall. “Well, here we go. This is Door Number One. Enter please, but stand still,” Violet said.

Gus thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He saw four sewing machines and boxes stacked almost to the ceiling. There was only a small space that could technically be called a path. The lights were on not only because it was dark outside but because cartons had been stacked up against the windows. “What . . . what do you sew in here?” he asked.

“Underwear. We monogram it,” Rose said.

“Thongs to be precise,” Violet tittered.

Gus turned pink. His thoughts turned to all he’d seen on the Initial B Enterprises Web site. He struggled to work his tongue around the question he needed to ask. “Whose underwear, excuse me, thongs, and what initials are you monogramming? OMG! OMG! You’re selling Anna Nicole Smith underwear? And you’re monogramming it?”

The sisters crossed their arms over their chests and stared at Gus. “We can see how you would think that, but it isn’t true. We are selling Alice Nolan Sanders underwear. She was a resident of Shady Pines until she expired. We’re selling it in her memory. A percentage of sales goes to her family. It’s not our fault if people assume, and the key word here is assume, that we are selling Anna Nicole Smith underwear. She’s dead now, you know, God rest her soul!” Rose said virtuously.

“And you’re telling me some dumb-ass lawyer signed off on this?”

“What’s not to sign off on? We told him we were selling Alice Nolan Sanders underwear. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Gus slapped at his forehead. “Just how the hell old was Alice Nolan Sanders when she . . . expired?”

“I think she was ninety-two,” Violet said, “but she died almost twenty years ago. We didn’t start the business until shortly after you and Barney entered high school. And even then it was difficult keeping you and Barney from finding out about it.”

“And she wore thong underwear?”

“No, actually, she wore Depends. She wanted to wear a thong, but it wasn’t practical,” Rose said. “This is one of our biggest sellers. We can’t fill the orders fast enough. In fact, it was the first product we ever sold, well before Web sites and the like. Although, when we first started selling them, orders were soft. Then we decided to monogram them, and we couldn’t fill the orders fast enough, as you can see by our inventory reports. We had to buy extra machines, but we have a staffing problem. We’re looking to expand by recruiting from other assisted-living facilities.”

“Expand?” Gus was in a daze as he followed the sisters out of the room.

“Yes, expand.” Rose stopped in her tracks and turned around to glare at her grandson. “Where do you think the money came from to raise you, send you to college, buy and pay for the house that is no longer yours, and set you up in business? We don’t farm the farm. Your grandfather left just enough insurance to get us through the first few years. And this farm has to be maintained. Well?”

“I don’t know, I’m ashamed to say. You never discussed money with me. Never, Granny. Even when I asked, you wouldn’t discuss it. I sure as hell never thought you put me through school selling Anna Nicole Smith thong underwear. I’m never going to be able to get that out of my mind.”

Violet was heartless. “Easy for you to say after the fact. You’ll get over it! Can we just get this show on the road? We’re losing valuable work hours.”

“Door Number Two. Fortune cookies. We get the fortunes. We bake the cookies, too. But, again, it’s a problem keeping up with the demand. We supply all the Chinese restaurants within a twenty-mile radius.”

“Well, at least that looks legitimate.” The sisters shot Gus a glare that could have melted candle wax.

“Door Number Three. This is our voodoo and spell room. Or witchcraft, if you prefer that word. I think it’s self-explanatory. This is very profitable, and we have tons of repeat customers, though we only started this service about five years ago. We craft spells designed to a person’s wish. A lot goes into this part of the business. We have a newsletter that goes out once a month. We sell candles, incense, and anointing oils to go with the spells. It’s quite lucrative. The referrals are astounding, and we have thousands of repeat customers. Again, a staffing problem. We could be making three times as much money if we had more people to help us,” Iris said.

“Door Number Four. This is our astrology room. Big dollars in astrology. We have a newsletter for this, too. Personal horoscopes at a hundred thirty dollars a pop. We have two-hundred-dollar-a-year memberships, and we had to cut it off because we simply can’t keep up with the demand. That’s another way of saying we know what we’re doing,” Rose said.

Gus followed the sisters in a daze. He pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. It hurt, so, no, he wasn’t dreaming.

“This is Door Number Five, or the parlor. We needed the biggest room in the house for this portion of Initial B Enterprises. We closed off all the pocket doors to keep the room airtight. We have to keep all the vents closed. All we can do for you right now is to open the door a crack so you can see inside. If we open the door all the way, the feathers will start flying, and it is impossible to catch feathers,” Violet said.

Gus let his mind go back to the Initial B Enterprises Web page. At the top and at the bottom, there was a duck quacking across the screen. He hadn’t thought much about it until this very minute. “You’re selling the Aflac Duck’s feathers?” he asked in horror. “You could go to jail for that! I’m sure that duck is protected. Oh, my God!”

“Will you stop being so damned dramatic, Augustus. No one said we are selling the Aflac Duck’s feathers. You are assuming again. We’re selling Audrey’s feathers. As you know, we have ducks down in the pond. And we get tons of feathers shipped from Taiwan. Ethel made a dress out of the feathers and put it on our blog, and, yes, we have a blog. Well, that little number sold to a starlet in Hollywood for five thousand dollars. Before you could say feather, we had so many orders we were going crazy. Again, supply and demand, and we don’t have enough staff.

“Then, the day we saw on the news that Prince William was going to get married, one of our ladies from Shady Pines said we should start making fascinators. Those are the little feather things ladies in England wear in place of a hat. We got right on it, and we were the Web site from which to order for the nuptials. We cleaned up handsomely on that, and the overseas shipping was almost nil because feathers weigh next to nothing. It almost killed us filling the orders because the feathers from Taiwan are white, as are Audrey’s feathers, and we had to spray them different colors. But not only did we persevere, we prevailed. We made a killing on those fascinators.”

“Because of the Aflac Duck?”

“The duck just runs across our Web page. We never claimed to be selling his feathers. The insurance company the duck represents has no quarrel with us; we’re giving them free Web press, or whatever you call it. We cannot be held accountable for what people presume or assume.”

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Gus said.

“Really! We were just getting started. We wanted you to see why you can’t stay here,” Violet drawled.

“How much more is there?”

“Well, there is the entire upstairs. We have an over-sixty sex hotline, an over-seventy hotline, a newsletter, and an advice column that is beyond active. Then there is the foot room. Old people for some reason get purple feet as they age. We have lotions and creams, all kinds of stuff. Right now, though, we’re having a bit of a problem with one of the lotions. Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.”

“I think I’ve heard enough. Okay, okay. If your intention was to blow my socks off, you have certainly succeeded. I don’t know if I should congratulate you or cry for you. I just don’t want you all to get in trouble. Tell me again that this is all legal, and I’ll be okay with it.”

“Our people tell us we are doing nothing wrong, Augustus. We stand behind all of our products and services. Customers have access to us twenty-four/seven. If a problem crops up, we take care of it immediately. We’re giving people what they want, and, at the same time, we’re not just sitting around waiting to die. We’re busy, and we’re active, and we all love what we’re doing. Even during the hectic times. Now that you know what we do, are you okay with it?” Rose asked anxiously.

“Well, yes and no, Granny. I’m glad that you’re all happy. I’m going to worry, no matter what you say, about the legalities of what you’re doing. I won’t be able to turn that off. Look, all I want is for us to go back to the way it was. I want you to love me again the way I love you. I screwed up. I’m sorry, but I can’t unring that bell. I’m going to try like hell, though. I’d lay down my life for the three of you. I just want you to know that.”

And then he started to bawl the way he had when he was six years old. The sisters looked at his miserable face and rushed to wrap him in their arms, tears streaming down their faces.

A good cry was had by all. As if on cue, the sun peaked through the window of the front room.

“I think it’s an omen of some kind,” Iris sniffled. Violet and Rose agreed. Gus just hung on tight, not wanting to leave the comfort of the warm arms that were wrapped around him.

Finally, Gus was able to say, “What can I do?”

“Are you serious? Do you really want to help?” the sisters asked in unison.

“Damned straight I do. And, no, I do not want your accounting business, but I really need to know one thing for sure. Did you really put me through college selling monogrammed underwear belonging to God only knows who?”

“We did,” the sisters said solemnly.

“Well, then, hot damn. I was never first at anything, so I think I can now claim a title of some sort. Not that anyone will ever know, right?”

“Right,” the sisters said.

“So, what do you need me to do? I have all kinds of free time now that tax season is over, and I have a lawyer handling my legal affairs. Just spit it out!”

“Recruit for us. Find us people our age who are withering away, old people who have given up and want their lives back, the forgotten ones. Can you do that for us, Augustus? We have a list out in the kitchen, friends of our staff, and, of course, some friends of our own who for one reason or another are living at other living facilities. We hesitated to out-and-out recruit, but if you’re serious, we’ll give you the list, and you can see what you can do. Next to each person’s name is the name of the friend who works here, and you can use that as a recommendation. Are you okay doing that, Augustus?”

Gus couldn’t remember the last time the sisters had smiled at him the way they were smiling now. At that precise moment, he would have agreed to anything to keep those smiles on their faces. “I’ll give it my best shot or die trying. How many?”

“At least twenty. I think we have only eleven names, but I’m sure that each one of those has a friend whom they themselves can recruit. I guess what I’m saying is, get as many as you can get. And if you want to sweeten the pot, tell them they can relocate to Shady Pines. We run a shuttle service between the Pines and here. Meals are free. Nice clean rooms, a bonus every year. Paid vacation.”

“All of that plus a shuttle service! Now, why doesn’t that surprise me? Okay, I’m in.”

“We thought you’d see it our way, Augustus,” Rose said happily.

And he did.