Solomon's Oak Page 9

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “Would you care to open a Target account and save ten percent today?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “You’ll save ten percent.”

  “The answer is still no.”

  “Thank you for shopping at Target and have a pleasant day. Happy holidays, and come back soon.”

  “You, too, young man.”

  He handed her the receipt. “Who’s your friend?”

  Glory tucked the receipt into her wallet. “This is my daughter, Juniper.”

  He smiled for real this time. “Whoa. Didn’t know you had one.”

  “That’s because I keep her locked up. We have to go now. Bye, Larry.”

  “See you on your next shift, Gloria,” he said, watching Juniper all the way to the exit.

  “Why do I have to take the bus to school?” Juniper said as they sat down at the café table with their drinks.

  “It’s too long for me to drive you back and forth every day, and on the days I work, one of us would have to be late.”

  Juniper poked her fork into her chocolate croissant and frowned.

  “Do you get motion sickness on buses?”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “They’ll put me in remedial classes. In eighth grade I tested at the high school level for reading and still they made me take sentence-building.”

  “Sounds dreadful.”

  “Yeah. It made me want to stab myself in the eyes.”

  Learning Juniper’s code was going to take some time. “Well, we can’t have that. I’ll make sure you’re placed in the right classes. I get off work at four most days. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Can I trust you on your own until I get home?”

  Juniper gave her a “duh” look. “I promise I won’t set your couch on fire if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’m not,” Glory said, though a part of her was scared silly at the idea of Juniper in her house without supervision. She sipped her latte and studied the trees in the center of the grassy, outdoor plaza filled with enormous oaks. It was a typical California winter day, eighty degrees, despite the predicted rain that rarely fell. Young mothers walked by toting kids who didn’t understand why they had to wait a month for Santa to show up. Glory wondered how she and Juniper would celebrate Christmas. She used to accompany Dan to midnight mass at the mission, a festival of candles and carols in Spanish. The service was always packed. They’d sleep in Christmas morning, drink Irish coffee for breakfast, and take a long ride with the horses and the dogs. How had Juniper’s family celebrated anything after Casey went missing? Right now Juniper flipped through the free Central Coast Weekly that listed entertainment from here to Sacramento. Did she long for tickets to Beyoncé, or Roller Derby? Did she like those rap artists who looked to Glory like car mechanics or criminals? What was her idea of fun? A woman walked past with two Italian greyhounds in harnesses, one seal and the other blue. Glory almost spoke up to compare notes about Edsel, but then for no reason at all, she was blindsided by a memory of the back of Dan’s neck. Whenever he was driving the truck and she was sitting beside him, she noticed the sun-darkened skin on the back of his neck, middle-aged and craggy. She had loved to place her fingers there, where time had taken its toll. For a moment she could almost feel a slight tickle against her fingers, but as soon as she tried to will the sensation closer, it departed, taking another nip of her heart. Shoppers and diners came and went, kids on skateboards wove in and out of pedestrians, and middle-aged men sped by on racing bicycles with tires so thin they looked as if they could cut grooves in the asphalt.

  “We should get going,” Glory said, and stood to bus their trash.

  “I need to use the restroom.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.” While Glory waited, she noticed a T-shirt in the bookstore window, a deep purple shade with a Celtic graphic of two rearing horses. She thought of Juniper feeding Piper and Cricket. On sale for $10, two for $15. She bought one, as well as the other books in the Shgun series. When Juniper returned from the restroom, she handed her the bag. “Early Christmas present.”

  When Juniper looked inside the bag, she said, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  Glory looked at Juniper’s face piercings and saw a fearful girl trying to look grown-up. “Just say thanks and let’s go. We need to walk the dogs.”

  “Thanks.”

  Later, when they were cruising along in the weekend traffic, Juniper turned down the radio and said, “Mrs. Solomon?”

  “Glory, kid. As in ‘glory, glory, hallelujah.’ ”

  “Is that your real name?”

  Glory grinned. “It is. My father went a little nuts when his daughters were born. My sister got the worst of it. Imagine twelve years of roll call for Hallelujah Smith.”

  They laughed. Juniper said, “I know the voucher Ms. Proctor gave you was only good for Target. Thank you for buying me the shirts and the books. I know they cost extra.”

  “Books are always worth the splurge. Of course, that means we’ll be eating beans and rice all week.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Juniper, I’m kidding! I can’t tell a joke to save my life. When I hear a good one, I have to write it down and read it in order to get the lunch pine. I mean, punch line.”

  When Juniper laughed, it was as if someone had pumped helium into the truck’s cab. So many things were funny on the drive home. The black cows chewing their cuds, a jacked-up pickup with a nerdy driver at the wheel. The oldies station playing the Norman Greenbaum song “Canned Ham.”

  Eight thirty A.M. on the Monday after Thanksgiving, Glory dropped Juniper at King City High and spoke to the woman at the attendance desk about testing and placement and bus schedules. Over the years the Solomons had gone through this ritual many times, registering their foster sons. King City was a good school, and though Glory didn’t know the new people working at the front desk, they were all smiles and warmly welcoming to Juniper.

  “That went well,” Glory said as she said good-bye for the day.

  Juniper scowled. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

  Glory patted her shoulder. “Don’t be so gloomy. The day will be over before you know it. See you tonight.”

  Juniper stood and watched her go, waving as if Glory had left her at the pound.

  Glory drove to the Butterfly Creek General Store to buy a freshly made doughnut, and to say a quick hi to her friend Lorna.

  “Glory Bea!” Lorna said when Glory walked in through the squeaky screen door. Lorna shooed aside her husband, who was restocking the countertop display of topography maps popular with hikers. “Juan, sweetie. Go cover the register while I visit with our hijastra.” She looped a mug through her finger. “I hosed off the chairs this morning, so check before you sit down in a puddle. I can’t wait to hear all about the wedding. I hope you brought pictures.”

  “Soon. I’ll post them on the Web site.”

  Lorna sighed. “Oh, well, that’s something to look forward to then, isn’t it? I gotta get me one of those laptop computers. My great-nephew Elliot carries his everywhere he goes. My niece is worried he’ll end up working for the Geek Squad, but I say more power to him. So, what was it like? Do pirates party like bikers or Girl Scouts? Did they make anyone walk the plank?”

  “Actually, it was fairly sedate.”

  “That doesn’t tell me a thing. Come on, girl! I need specifics. Surely there was a smidgen of debauchery. Did a bridesmaid dance on a tabletop in her slip? Did anyone stand up at the ‘give a reason these two should not be married’? Just once in my lifetime I would dearly love to see that happen. I guess that’s only on soap operas, right?”

  Glory told her about the gunman.

  “Now that sounds promising. Was he tall, dark, and handsome? Brown eyes or blue?”

  “Just a regular-looking guy, maybe forty, and I think Latino. His eyes could have been brown. I wasn’t really paying attention, Lo
rna. I was trying to run a reception.”

  “Well, wake up.” Lorna gave Glory a smack on her arm with the order pad. “How about his voice? I bet it was that rumbly kind of bass that hits you right in the—”

  “Lorna, we probably exchanged ten words. The most attractive part of this guy was that he had a camera and he knew how to use it.”

  She chuckled. “That sounds a little naughty.”

  “To a person with a dirty mind, maybe.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Lorna said. “I may be old, but even old ladies have fantasies.”

  “Too much information.”

  “Relax, I’m not going to tell you about my sex life. Though it is—how is it the kids say it? Smoking hot?”

  “Lorna!”

  “Relax, Glo. Now, did he have on a wedding ring?”

  “No, he didn’t. He was just a nice guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time—for me, due to his camera. I’m sure I’ll never see him again.”

  Lorna reached into her pocket for her cigarettes. “Never say never. Life just loves to surprise the heck out of you. So what’s up with Queenie?”

  Every time Lorna invoked her nickname for Halle, Glory pictured her sister lying on a red velvet fainting couch ringing a bell to summon a maid. “The same old same old. Actually, I’m keeping a secret from her, and since it’s almost Christmas, I have to tell her pretty soon.”

  Lorna exhaled blue smoke. “Now you’re talking. Tell me all about this secret and I’ll help you come up with the perfect plan. Say, I could go for a piece of leftover pumpkin pie. How about you?”

  “I’m craving your maple doughnuts.”

  “Juan!” Lorna hollered. “A couple Vermont life preservers, pronto! One cup of blond sand for our girl here, and refill my cup while you’re at it.”

  Glory had long ago given up learning Lorna and Juan’s private language. “I thought your doctor put you on the diabetes diet.”

  “Maple comes from a tree, dearie. That makes it a vegetable in my book. Plus I make the icing with brown sugar. That’s not as bad as white sugar, you know.”

  “You might want to double-check that,” Glory said, but let it go. “Okay, here’s my news, and it’s big. Caroline Proctor called me just before the wedding.” Juan brought the doughnuts. “Hola, Juan. Good to see you.”

  He set the plates down, then gave Glory a kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you, too, Glory. Here’s your coffee, extra cream and two sugars.” He put the can of Reddi-wip on the table and set down Lorna’s oversize mug of black coffee. “El azúcar for my azúcar.”

  “Gracias,” Glory said. “Did you two have a nice Thanksgiving?”

  He sighed. “Day in, day out, Lorna works me like a dog.”

  “Oh, shush,” Lorna said. “Get back inside before somebody shoplifts the Slim Jims.” Lorna thumbed the red cap off the whipped cream. “I know these are bad for the environment,” she said, squirting swirls of sweet cream on top of her coffee, “but I’m old and I work hard and I deserve some sweetness. Oh, maybe just a smidgen more.” The tower of cream grew taller. “Go on. What did Caroline have to say? Is this the secret that’s going to get sister’s undies in a bundle?”

  “Actually, it is.” Glory told Lorna about Juniper. “Can you believe it? What are the chances of our paths crossing again? At first I said no, but when I introduced her to Cadillac, something happened. I don’t know, it felt wrong to send her on her way. I dropped her off at King City High School this morning. It’s strange to have another person in the house, but I like it. I forgot how much of a racket kids make.”

  Lorna nodded. She cut her doughnut into pieces, speared one with her fork, then ran it through the whipped cream before putting it into her mouth.

  “It’s not like you to have nothing to say,” Glory said.

  “That’s because I’m listening.”

  Glory felt the bite of doughnut turn to a lump in her stomach. “Lorna, do you think I made a terrible mistake?”

  Lorna took hold of both Glory’s hands and looked her in the eyes. Lorna’s steely gray hair was braided, then wound into two buns above her ears. Her sharp features and hairstyle made her look like an Indian maiden on an antique postcard. “Terrible isn’t the word I’d use.”

  Glory’s face went hot. “Then what word would you use? It’s not like I traded my pickup in for a Hummer or bought myself a Picasso. She’s a kid who needs a home for four years. When Dan was alive, we always had fosters.”

  Lorna let Glory’s hands go. “Estimado, you have a big heart and I know you mean well. Plus you get a check for taking her in. That’s got to help your present situation, but—”

  Glory’s back stiffened. “It’s not about the money.”

  “Calmarse. But, Glory, the burden rests on you alone now. It hasn’t been a full year. Are you sure you’re ready to add a teenager into the mix?”

  “Was I any more ready for those boys Dan and I fostered?”

  Juan hollered out the door, “Lorna! Teléfono. Ven aquí, por favor!”

  Lorna smiled because that was what a good friend did, but Glory could tell she was biting back her words. That felt worse than having her come right out and ask, “Are you loco en la cabeza?” Lorna took Glory’s hand again. “Did I show you my newest pig statue? It’s a cast-iron boot scraper. Won’t that come in handy the next couple of months?”

  “You bet.” Lorna’s affection for the javelina was evident everywhere, from the pig brooch on her sweater to the patterned fleece vest she wore in the wintertime. Every rancher and farmer in the area hated the beasts. They ran amok, rooted up gardens, and terrorized farm animals.

  Glory put her coffee down. A group of hikers had arrived and were discussing their expensive hiking shoes. Glory figured she could have bought a month of groceries with that much money. “Lorna, your approval means the world to me. I’m going to try this. I think Juniper and I might be good for each other.”

  “She’s a lucky girl. Be sure you bring her to the Christmas party. She can socialize with my great-nephew. Elliot has a face like a pie, but he’s a nice boy, and she could use a friend, right?”

  Glory stood up. “Definitely.” She took out her wallet, but Lorna pushed it away. “Thanks for the coffee and doughnuts.”

  “I’m always here for you.” Lorna took a few steps toward the store, then turned back to Glory. “I’m just going to say this one thing and then I promise I’ll drop it.”

  “Here we go,” Glory said under her breath.

  “Seriously. Glory, teenage girls have pantaletas on fire. I see them here in the summertime. They think nothing of shoplifting a package of gummy bears when they have money to pay for it right in their pockets. They parade around in stringy bikinis and the poor boys get all worked up. They’re too embarrassed to buy rubbers so they have unprotected sex, and who ends up pregnant?”

  “Lorna, I love you with all my heart, but right now you’re sounding a lot like Queenie.”

  “Consider this practice for telling Her Majesty.”

  Glory folded her paper napkin and set it down on her empty plate. “I’m already in trouble for buying my mother romance novels for Christmas.”

  “Put a bow on the girl’s head and a tag reading, ‘To Queenie, with love from Glory.’ She’ll be so relieved it’s a joke that she won’t care you took the girl in. Are we still friends?”

  “Of course.” Glory hugged Lorna good-bye. She wanted to tell Lorna that in the past couple of days she hadn’t cried one tear. That she’d skipped her regularly scheduled Closet Time and actually laughed a few times. Who better to show her how to survive loss than Casey McGuire’s younger sister? But Glory looked at her watch and knew she’d be late for work if she didn’t leave right then.

  Tuesday, Glory was sent home from work at noon, having worked only two hours. The store manager sent Larry O. to deliver the news. “The recession has everyone scared and hanging on to their money,” he said.

  “Can you explain that in plai
n English?”

  Larry looked around the store as if he were the manager, considering rearranging everything. “What can I say, Gloria? Last one hired, first one—”

  “Am I fired?”

  “No. But unless you decide to work graveyard, your schedule will be a day-to-day decision for the present. Sorry if that messes up your plans.”

  He actually sounded sorry, Glory thought as she drove home, trying not to cry, making mathematical calculations in her head. Was it was too late to apply anywhere else? With Juniper home on the weekends, that limited Glory’s availability even more. She could park Juniper at the store’s snack table with her homework while Glory worked her four-hour shift, but the county might frown on that. What the heck. She’d use the free time to experiment with fondant cakes. Put flyers up in the market: “Beautiful, homemade cakes in holiday themes. Pirate ships a specialty.” Why stop there? She’d make some brochures, distribute them to B&Bs to advertise her culinary skills in addition to a charming wedding location. Did a person needed a business license to sell cakes? How did you charge? By the inch?

  The phone rang and Cadillac ran to it and began barking. Glory danced around him, trying not to fall down, and grabbed the receiver. Her hand was so slippery with buttercream icing that she dropped it, sending Edsel yipping down the hall in fright and Caddy running to clean up what Edsel missed. “Leave it,” she said, but Caddy had already lost interest when the phone stopped ringing.

  Glory was out of breath when she finally said hello. Whoever was on the other end had probably hung up by now. “Excuse the racket. I accidentally dropped the phone, and the dogs—oh, never mind. This is Solomon’s Oak Wedding Chapel, Glory Solomon speaking. May I help you?”

  “Glory, it’s Monica Phelps.”

  Since all of their foster sons had attended King City High, Glory knew the principal well enough to call her by her first name. She was probably calling to say hello, since she hadn’t been in her office yesterday when Glory registered Juniper for classes. “Hello, Monica. How are you?”

  She heard the sigh in Monica’s voice. “I’m fine. I’m afraid there’s been an incident with Juniper.”