Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 03 - Valentined (7 page)

She was still fingering the little heart.  As she gently
tugged at the edges, she noticed the glue around the base starting to give way
. 
Oh, dear
, she thought,
I don’t want to break it.  If I pull too hard,
the filling might leak out. 
 However, it was too late and with her last
pull, the small silk heart detached from its base and popped into Essie’s
hand.  She carefully lifted it up and turned it over.  The back of the heart
was sewn with the smallest hand stitches she had ever seen.  On top of the
stitches, a layer of glue provided additional protection.  Indeed, the bottom
of the heart was rock solid.  It was possible to remove the heart from its
base, but it would be virtually impossible to open the heart from behind. 
It
probably was intended as a sachet
, Essie reasoned
, even if it didn’t
smell good to her
.  It was sturdy enough to remain indefinitely in
someone’s drawer without accidentally breaking and spilling its contents out on
one’s clothes.

Essie touched the center of the card where the heart had
been and she felt a sticky substance.  It appeared that the heart had been
fastened with a type of glue that would allow it to be reattached, so Essie
carefully placed the little heart in the center of the card and gently pressed
it down.  The heart appeared to stay put when Essie held the card up to test to
see if the heart would fall off.  It didn’t. 

Her nighttime aide, Lorena, stuck her head in the door.

“Miss Essie,” she greeted Essie warmly.  “You want to get
ready for bed, or are you plannin’ some late night rendezvous with that secret
admirer of yours?”  Lorena came in and closed the door.

“Oh, Lorena,” said Essie, “don’t tell me you heard about the
valentine too?”

“Miss Essie, honey,” said Lorena, busily getting Essie’s
nighttime pills from her kitchen cupboard, “there ain’t nobody at HH who don’t
know about your admirer!”

“Oh, no!” cried Essie.  “Can’t a girl have a boyfriend
without it being broadcast to the world?”

“Not here, she can’t!” said Lorena knowingly as she brought
Essie’s pills to her, along with a glass of water.  Essie took the pills and
water and swallowed them without a fuss.  Lorena smiled broadly.  “Good for
you, girl!  You usually moan and groan about those big ones!”

“I have other more pressing issues on my mind tonight,
Lorena,” noted Essie, as she handed the glass back to her aide.

“You mean you trying to find that mystery boyfriend of
yours?”

“You haven’t seen one hanging around outside have you?”
asked Essie.  She and Lorena always liked to tease each other about their love
lives or lack thereof.  Lorena had been married for years and she and her
husband had five children.  She had always made it clear that her idea of
romance was when her husband just left her alone.

“It seems Betsy Rollingford got a secret admirer valentine
last year,” said Essie.  “It was a lot like mine but she misplaced it.”  Essie
was loathe to say it was stolen, because she assumed that Lorena would infer
that she meant one of the staff stole it. 

“That’s not good,” said Lorena, still standing beside
Essie’s recliner.  “That the card?” she asked, looking down at the valentine in
Essie’s lap.

“The very one,” said Essie.

“Hmmm,” said Lorena, peering at it from her standing
position.  “That about the fanciest card I ever seen!”

“Me too!” agreed Essie, picking up the card and handing it
over to Lorena.

“My goodness, Miss Essie,” she said as she opened the card
and read the inside.  “This man, he flat out mad about you!”

“I’m not so sure, Lorena,” said Essie, shaking her head. 
“If he really cared about me, why be so mysterious?  Wouldn’t he want me to
know who he is?”

“He shy,” said Lorena as if that answered all of Essie’s
questions and put the entire mystery to bed.  She handed the card back to
Essie.  “Shy men, they do weird things.  They a lot of shy men at HH.”  She
headed into the bedroom. 

“Oh, Lorena!” said Essie, laughing and calling out to her. 
“I don’t know about that!”

“I do, Miss Essie!” replied her aide, as she returned from
the bedroom with Essie’s pajamas.  “Lordy, do I wish I had me a shy man.  My
Bernie!  He not shy.  Not shy at all.  Nope.  We got five kids, Miss Essie.  A
little more shy not bother me at all.”  Lorena rolled her eyes as she helped
Essie out of her trousers and into her nighttime attire. 

“Lorena,” said Essie, “I do appreciate your insight, but I
don’t think my secret admirer is shy.  I think there’s a totally different
reason for his secrecy.” 

“No, he just shy!” maintained Lorena.  She finished helping
Essie get ready for bed and then headed out to her next resident.  “Mark my
words, Miss Essie.  This one shy man who love you!”  She shook her finger at
Essie as the door closed behind her.  Lorena’s words of wisdom did little to
calm Essie’s concerns.  Now, in addition to her aide’s personality assessment
of her secret admirer, Essie was concerned that Lorena had seen the card.  It
appeared that most, if not all of Happy Haven, now knew she had received a card
from a secret admirer.  Probably a good portion had figured out or could figure
out that she probably kept it in her walker basket.  She did keep many of her
important possessions in her walker seat—as did many Happy Haven residents who
used walkers.   It wasn’t that Essie feared that Lorena would steal her card. 
But she did worry that her gregarious aide might accidentally mention the card
to one person too many.  Essie did not want to lose her card as Betsy
Rollingford had.

She rolled into her bedroom, still contemplating these
issues, her valentine housed safely in her walker basket.  She pulled down her
covers and slid under her sheets, pulling her walker close by.  This was where
she usually kept her trusty vehicle, because she often needed it in the middle
of the night for quick bathroom visits.  Now, however, there was a second
reason to keep her walker close to her bed.   If someone did try to slip into
her apartment in the middle of the night and steal the card, Essie wanted to be
prepared.  She wasn’t exactly certain what she’d do if someone actually did
enter her bedroom and try to take something out of her walker basket.  Really,
all she wanted was to know who it was.  She figured that if someone took it, it
would be someone who either was the secret admirer or who knew who the secret
admirer was.  In a way, Essie was actually hoping someone would come and take
the card.  Then this mystery would be solved.  Maybe.  It didn’t really dawn on
her that someone breaking into her apartment and stealing something from her
was actually dangerous and if she attempted to intervene, even by trying to
discover the person’s identity, she could endanger her own welfare.

She lay down and tried to sleep.  Eventually she drifted
off.  When she awoke in the middle of the night with an urgent need to visit
her toilet, she first opened her walker seat.  The valentine was still there in
its cream-colored envelope.  She even peeked inside to be sure someone hadn’t
come in and removed the card from the envelope, but the original card was
definitely there.  No one had come to get it.  She made her quick bathroom trip
and returned to bed.  This process was repeated several more times throughout
the night, and each time when she awakened and checked in her basket the card
was still there.

Chapter Nine

“Passion makes the world go round. 
Love just makes it a safer place.”

—Ice T

At breakfast the next morning, Essie was anxious to tell her
tablemates what she had learned from Betsy Rollingford.  Her valentine remained
snug in the basket of her walker seat beside her.

The women were uncharacteristically quiet as they savored
Happy Haven cinnamon rolls that the chef made fresh once a week.  Essie had
slathered hers with more butter than she typically used, but she figured she
deserved this little addition to one of her favorite treats.  After all, she’d
been hard at work trying to figure out a puzzling mystery.

“Butter on your cinnamon roll,” observed Opal.  “Essie,
isn’t that overkill?  I mean there must be a pound of butter in these rolls to
begin with.”  Opal was nibbling her roll delicately, patting her lips every so
often with her napkin.  Essie felt a drool of butter run down the side of her
chin.

“It’s a special treat,” replied Essie, slurping up the
dribble of butter.  “I’ve been working hard trying to figure out this valentine
thing.”

“Oh!” cried Marjorie, “did you find out who he is, Essie?”  
Her romantic friend was now thoroughly engaged in the conversation.  Anything
that involved men, romance, or gossip would always get Marjorie’s juices
flowing.  “What about Betsy?  Did you ever find her?”

“I did,” replied Essie, setting down her roll and wiping her
fingers with her napkin.  “She got a valentine last year, much like mine, she
says.”

“You showed her yours?” asked Opal with similar curiosity.

“Yes, Opal,” replied Essie, still slightly annoyed with what
she considered Opal’s bossiness.  “I show you mine, you show me yours.”

“Did you see hers?” asked Marjorie with enthusiasm.

“No,” said Essie.  “She didn’t have it.”

“You mean she didn’t have it with her?” asked Opal.

“No,” said Essie.  “I mean she didn’t have it anymore. “

“She didn’t throw it away, did she?” cried Marjorie.  “I
would never get rid of such a beautiful expression of love, especially from an
unknown admirer.”

“No, Marjorie,” continued Essie, “she didn’t throw it away. 
It was stolen.  She put it on her television set shortly after she received it
and not long after that it went missing.”

“Oh, she probably just misplaced it,” suggested Opal.  “I
can’t imagine anyone wanting to steal some greeting card from a resident.”

“Maybe a resident took it!” exclaimed Marjorie.  “Maybe one
of her friends who was jealous!”

“Marjorie,” said Essie, “it was displayed in her room. 
You’re suggesting another resident went into her apartment and took this card
from the top of her television set?”

“It’s possible,” replied Marjorie sheepishly.

“It’s more likely that a staff member took it,” suggested
Opal.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” agreed Essie.  “We all keep our
rooms unlocked.  Aides and cleaning people come and go into our rooms,
sometimes when we’re there and sometimes when we’re not.  I’m sure it would be
easy for a staff member to just slip into Betsy’s room and grab that card
without anyone noticing it at all.”

“But why, Essie?” asked Marjorie.  “Why would a staff member
do that?”

“That’s what I can’t figure out,” replied Essie.  “Betsy
said she had some valuable items in her room.”  Essie didn’t mention exactly
what Betsy had mentioned or where it was located.  She figured she owed the
woman this much discretion.  “She couldn’t understand why someone would take a
paper greeting card but not anything valuable.”

“You’d better keep an eye on your card, Essie,” admonished
Opal, glancing over at Essie’s walker.

“Don’t worry,” said Essie.  “It will never leave my side. 
If anyone tries to take it, they’ll have to come through me first.”

“Oh, Essie!” cried Marjorie.  “That sounds dangerous!  I
hope you don’t do anything foolish just to protect a valentine!”

“Are you even sure that there’s a connection between your
card and Betsy’s?  They could be from different people,” said Opal.

“No,” said Essie.  “I showed my card to Betsy and she
remembered her card very well.  She said they were practically the same.  Maybe
different colors, but she remembered the same doily, ribbons, and little heart
in the center.  I really think she received a card just like mine.”

“That means that the same person sent it,” said Marjorie,
her eyes wide with realization.

“Yes,” agreed Essie.  “Her secret admirer is my secret
admirer.”

“So what does that mean, Essie?” questioned Opal, frowning. 
“Is this man in love with lots of women here at Happy Haven?  He lives in
Boston, right?”

“Right, Opal,” replied Essie.  “I don’t know what it means. 
But I do think that there’s more going on here than meets the eye.  I don’t
know who this secret admirer is, but I intend to find out.   Betsy never
received any other card or call from a secret admirer.  She is still mystified
by it.  And I’m sure her admirer is the same as mine.  And since her card was
stolen, I can only guess that someone may attempt to steal my card too.  So, my
intention is to guard it so that if anyone tries to take it, I will learn who
they are and find out why they are doing this.”

“That sounds potentially dangerous, Essie,” said Opal.  “I
agree with Marjorie.”

“Oh, stop it, you two!” said Essie, hands up.  “I’m not
going to do anything valiant.  If anyone tries to take the card, I’ll just let
them.  But I’ll observe who they are so I can track them down later.”

“So you say, Essie,” noted Marjorie, shaking her head.  “You
be careful!  I don’t want to lose one of my best friends!”   A tear welled up
in Marjorie’s eye and she patted it with her napkin.  Then, she shoved the rest
of her cinnamon roll in her mouth in an obvious attempt to deflect attention
from her outburst.

The women became silent as they sipped their coffee and
enjoyed the last few bites of their cinnamon rolls.  Eventually, they departed
the dining hall and Essie made her mid-morning stop at the mailboxes. 
Apparently, the mailman had arrived early this morning, and Phyllis had already
delivered the mail to the boxes.  Essie reached in and pulled out a handful of
flyers and ads.  There were no valentines in her mailbox this morning and she
wondered how long the mail had been in the boxes.  She glanced over to the
front desk and noticed that Phyllis was there busily working with a sign-up
list on the counter.