Fancy Dancer Read Free Page B

taking care of my mother’s business so well.”
    “We were paid to do it. When you’re paid for something, you do the best you can for monies received. We thank you for your business, son, and if there’s anything you need us to do, we’re here six days a week. You can call us on our mobile on Sundays but not till after church. Your mother was a fine lady, a wonderful mother, and a good friend.”
    “Yes, she was,” Jake said with a lump in his throat. He stood, offered his hand, and was surprised at the firm, solid handshakes of the two brothers.
    Outside, in the hot, humid air, Jake yanked at his tie, pulled it off, and stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket. At his car, he removed his jacket and threw it across to the passenger seat before driving back to his little house on the tree-shaded street.
    When he got home, he headed to the second floor, stripped down, and pulled on cargo shorts and an old LSU T-shirt from his college days, which was so soft and worn that it felt like a second skin. His feet went into Birkenstocks and off he went. His next stop was Leona Sue’s flower shop, and then on to St. Patrick’s Cemetery.
    Sweat was dripping down Jake’s face when he entered Leona Sue’s flower shop. He looked around at the profusion of flowers. His mother had always loved flowers, white roses being her favorite. She’d had a wonderful, beautiful flower garden when he was a boy. Mika, the gardener, had helped her with the compost and the peat moss and taught her all he knew, which was a lot. Mika always told her she had the prettiest roses in all of Louisiana. He made a mental note to check on Mika in his retirement.
    A young girl, probably the owner’s daughter, smiled and asked how she could help him.
    “Do you have any white roses?”
    “Believe it or not, we actually do. Not much call for them, but some came in yesterday. They’re in the cooler. How many would you like? Oh, are they for delivery or are you taking them with you? We charge for delivery.”
    “I’ll be taking them with me. How many do you have?”
    “Let me look. Mom might have sold some of them after I left yesterday. I’ll be right back.”
    Jake walked around, savoring the smell of the potted plants and the bright colors. He liked the smell. He turned when he heard the young girl shout from the back room where the cooler was. “I have three and a half dozen, sir!”
    “Good! I’ll take them all,” Jake shouted in return.
    “Would you like some greenery and baby’s breath in the mix?”
    Jake smiled. The young girl probably thought he didn’t know what baby’s breath or greenery meant, but he did. “Absolutely. Make it pretty.”
    When the young girl returned from the back room, her arms full of roses, Jake grinned. She’d wrapped them in green tissue, and they really were an armful. Jake thanked her and paid with his credit card.
    The flowers took up the entire passenger seat. Now, if he had a dog, the dog would have had to sit on his lap. Damn, where are these thoughts coming from?
    Jake drove with the window down because he hated air-conditioning in a car. For some reason, he always got a sinus infection when he turned it on. Recycled air, someone had once told him. The air outside was thick with humidity, but he didn’t care.
    Twenty minutes later, Jake drove down the road to the cemetery. He parked and walked to where his mother’s final resting place waited for him. It was a quiet place. But then, all cemeteries were quiet places. He had helped Mika plant a young tree the day after his mother had been laid to rest. In eighteen years, the sapling had grown into a tall, sturdy young tree, with branches that resembled a giant umbrella. It created a canopy of shade over the bench Mika had helped him build out of mahogany, and he was stunned to see how the stout bench had survived the elements. The plot of grass was so green it shone like a giant emerald. Mika must still come out here to water and to clip the grass.