“Rita?” a masculine voice called out.
As she proceeded to the exit, Rita glanced all around, expecting to see her brother’s big ruddy face or maybe her dad’s. But no one looked familiar. Perhaps she’d heard wrong…or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
“Rita Jansen?” the voice called out again.
She peered through the faces in the crowd by the door and spotting a handwritten sign waving above the heads, she was shocked to see her name clearly printed on it. “What is going on?” she mumbled to herself as she pushed through the travelers to investigate.
“Rita!” a tall man eagerly declared as he placed his hand on her shoulder. He wore a brown leather jacket, a red Bulls cap, and a big friendly smile. “I would recognize you anywhere.”
“What?” Rita peered curiously into the man’s face. He had warm brown eyes and was a few inches taller than her. “Do I know you?”
“You used to,” he said cheerfully. “We went to school together. John Hollister. Remember?”
“Johnny Hollister?” She slowly nodded with recognition. “It is you.”
“Yep.” He reached for her wheeled bag.
“But what are you doing here?”
“Your brother asked me to pick you up.”
“Ricky knows you?” She felt confused. “It can’t be from school. I mean, Ricky is eight years younger than us and he—”
“I met Ricky through work.” John lifted the carry-on bag from her shoulder so that she now only had her handbag to carry. “And your mom is one of my clients. I was real sorry to hear about her stroke today.”
“Yes…me too.” She frowned. “This is so unexpected.”
“Anyway, Ricky told me to let you know that your mom is already starting to improve a little,” he said as he pressed their way through the crowd. Loaded down with her luggage, he led the way toward the exit.
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do this, Johnny. I planned to take the train and—”
“I wouldn’t let my worst enemy ride the train into the city at night.” He stepped aside, waiting for her to go through the door ahead of him. “And I should warn you that the hospital’s located in an area that’s not exactly safe.” He held up her carry-on bag. “And with all this baggage, you’d be like a sitting duck for a thief.”
As Rita got further outside, she was caught off guard by the cold blast of air that hit her. Pushing the collar of her lightweight jacket higher, she hurried with Johnny across the street. “It’s freezing out here,” she muttered as they went into the parking area.
“Yep. It’s been hovering around twenty degrees these past few days.” He chuckled. “Not like LA, eh?”
“Not in the least.” She dug in her handbag for a silky scarf, wrapping it around her neck a couple times for warmth. “I forgot how cold it can get.” As she picked up the pace to keep up with his long strides, she wondered about this morning’s longing for winter. Am I nuts?
“Here we are.” Johnny stopped behind a red and white utility van, and, after opening the back, he quickly set her bags inside. “Hopefully it’s still warm inside. Go ahead and get in. It’s open.”
As she hurried around to the passenger’s door, she read the words on the side of the van. Apparently Johnny worked for some kind of a janitorial service located in Chicago. “Jolly Janitors?” she said as Johnny slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
He chuckled as he fastened his seat belt. “That’s right. The way I know your mom and brother is from cleaning Hair and Now at Millersburg Mall. I’ve been doing her salon for a couple of years now.”
“Oh…” She nodded, trying not to feel too judgmental. After all, what was wrong with a man working as a janitor? Good, honest work—and somebody had to do it. As Johnny maneuvered the large van out of the parking lot, she was hit with the irony of something. She had been driven to LAX in a plumber’s van and now she was being driven away from O’Hare in a janitor’s van. Okay, it wasn’t very stylish or impressive, and Margot would probably have a good time teasing her for it. But really, a ride was a ride…and, as her mom would say, beggars should not be choosers. Besides it was far better than riding the train on a cold winter’s night.
She glanced over at Johnny. And, really, despite being a janitor, he’d be rather attractive with his curly sandy brown hair, strong chin, and nicely shaped nose. Okay, he was attractive. And why was she being such a snob about it? She wasn’t really like that. Was she? But for some reason it was hard to imagine being involved with a janitor. Why was she even thinking about something like this in the first place? For all she knew, Johnny was married with three children. Besides, she reminded herself as she turned her focus back onto the street ahead of them, she should be thinking about her mother right now.
“So…you say my mom is doing better?” she asked cautiously.
“Yes. That’s what Ricky told me this evening when I dropped some flowers by for her. She’s been moved out of ICU and into a regular room. And it sounds like she made good progress in her physical therapy today.”
“She’s already having therapy?” Rita wasn’t sure which was more surprising—that her mom had been in therapy on her first day in the hospital, or that a Jolly Janitor had taken her mother flowers.
“Ricky said that they don’t waste any time with stroke victims. The sooner she starts regaining her skills, the better the prognosis.”
“So is she walking and talking?” Rita asked hopefully.
“No. Nothing like that yet. But it’s just the first day.”
“Oh…yeah…” Rita rubbed her hands together for warmth.
“Ricky suggested that I take you home,” Johnny said tentatively as he turned the heat up. “He thought you’d be worn out from your flight and—”
“I really need to go to the hospital,” she firmly told him. “I want to see my mom as soon as possible. That’s why I came today. I know it’s a ways farther than my parents’ house, but if you don’t mind, I really want to see her tonight.”
“Sure…no problem.”
“I’m guessing that Dad and Ricky are the ones who are worn out by now. They must be stressed and tired from being at the hospital all day. My dad hates hospitals. Maybe I can relieve them so they can go home and get some rest. I don’t mind spending the night in the hospital with my mom. I really don’t think she should be alone.”
“I understand completely. I’m sure I’d feel the same if it was my mom.”
She glanced over at him again. She’d always liked Johnny in school. He’d been one of the good guys—dependable and solid and kind. But he’d also been a little bit boring, too. Or so she’d thought back in high school. She felt a bit surprised he worked for a cleaning business, but only because she’d always thought he was more academic.
“I don’t think we’ve talked since we graduated. Did you go to college?” she asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to make conversation.
“Sure did. Graduated from Northwestern in business. Six years ago.”
“Oh…that’s great. Good school.”
“According to Donna—your mom, I mean—you graduated from a pretty impressive beauty school in Los Angeles.”
Rita shrugged. “Most people don’t think that beauty school’s very impressive, but it was a good school. And I did land a pretty great job in a Beverly Hills salon.”
“Really? Beverly Hills?” He nodded. “Ever work on anyone famous?”
“As a matter of fact, I have several well-known clients.”
“Anyone I’d have heard of?”
“Well, I don’t make a practice of name-dropping,” she said a bit primly. “Clientele privacy, you know.”
“Sure. That makes sense.”
She appreciated that he didn’t push her like some people did, and for some reason it made her trust him more. “But if you promise not to tell…”
He chuckled. “Scout’s honor. And I really was a scout, too.”
“Since you don’t live down there, I
guess it can’t hurt.” And so she told him a couple of the bigger names.
Johnny let out a low whistle. “Wow…now that’s impressive.”
She smiled with satisfaction. “I like to think so. Some of my clients swear that I’m the best colorist in Beverly Hills. But I like cutting and styling, too.”
“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He grinned at her as he waited for the light to change to green. “And I mean that as a compliment, Rita. I have nothing but respect for your mom.”
“Thank you.” She nodded. “I do take that as a compliment.” For a while they just drove in silence, with Rita watching for familiar sights.
“You didn’t make it to our ten-year reunion last year.”
“I know. I really wanted to go, but I was busy with work.”
“I heard it was because you were busy with a new boyfriend,” he said teasingly.
“Who told you that?”
“Your mom.”
“Seriously? My mom talks to you about my personal life?”
“I was on the reunion committee, and we hadn’t heard back from you, so I thought maybe we used the wrong email. So I asked your mom and she set me straight. But she also told me why you weren’t coming.”
“Well, my mom didn’t get it exactly right. It wasn’t because I had a new boyfriend. It was because the guy I was dating was a cameraman—you know for films—and he kept acting like he could get me on as a hairstylist for a movie he was working on. It was all supposed to go down about the same time as the reunion. And I’ve always dreamed of working as a stylist on a film. So I gave up going home for the reunion in the hopes I’d get on with the film.”
“Did you?”
“Nope.” Rita let out a frustrated sigh. “As it turned out the guy didn’t have as much influence as he’d insinuated.”
“Oh…is he still your boyfriend?”
“No, but not because of that.” She heard the sharpness in her response and regretted it. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault that Ben had been a jerk.
“Sorry,” Johnny said quickly. “I’m being too nosy again. It’s my worst habit, and I’m trying to break it. I’ll get to talking with clients, and the next thing I know I’ve stepped over the line by inquiring about their personal lives. My bad.”
“It’s okay.” Rita smiled. “To be honest, I’ve been known to do the exact same thing.”
“But you expect that in a hairdresser, don’t you? I mean, I always hear about how hairdressers always get to hear the juiciest secrets. Kind of like you’re in a special club.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“But with janitors…well, they’re supposed to just scrub the floors and take out the trash and keep their big mouths shut.” He laughed. “At least that’s what I hear.”
“You mentioned the reunion…” Rita began cautiously. “Do you recall if Marley Baines—I should say Prescott—was there or not?”
“Sure. Marley was there. But I’d think you’d have known that. You and Marley used to be best friends. Don’t you keep in touch?”
“Not as much as you’d think.” She frowned to think of how close she and Marley once were…a long time ago.
“Really? When was the last time you spoke with Marley?”
“Oh, it’s been a while…” Rita bit her lip.
“Oh, well, friends sometimes grow apart…”
“Do you see her much?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. She’s a client of mine as well.”
“You clean Marley’s house?”
“Actually, it’s her business. She’s got a thrift shop in Millersburg Mall. It’s called Secondhand Rose. And she does a nice little business with young fashion-minded and frugal women.”
“Come to think of it, my mom mentioned that to me. Kind of slipped my memory. So how is Marley doing?”
“Ah, so now you want me to divulge a client’s private information?” he said.
“Oh, no, of course not. Sorry. I just—”
“Kidding. Well, I guess Marley is doing…uh…okay. Business is good anyway.”
“Meaning her personal life isn’t?”
“I didn’t say that, did I?”
“No, of course not.” Rita wondered how well Johnny really knew Marley. “It’s just that, well, the reason Marley and I parted ways was because I was opposed to her marriage.”
“Really?” he glanced at her. “You mean because they were so young? Just one year out of high school?”
“No. Well, I suppose that was part of it. But I actually spoke out against Rex. And subsequently I was uninvited from the wedding.”
“Seriously? You dissed her fiancé?”
“I know…I know. I thought I was so smart back then.” Rita shook her head to remember how she’d stuck her size eleven foot in her mouth. “It’s embarrassing to admit now. Especially since Marley and Rex have been happily married for ten years.”
“Happily?”
She turned to peer at him. “Aren’t they?”
He shrugged, but she could tell by his expression that he knew something. “Sorry. Me and my big mouth again. Just pretend I didn’t say that. Okay?”
“Okay…”
“Now if you’re worried that I’ll tell someone about your impressive Beverly Hills clientele list, you can just threaten to blackmail me over that little slip of the tongue.”
“Well, you’ve certainly gotten me curious now. If Marley and I were speaking to each other, I’d just pay her a visit and ask what’s up. As it is, she’d probably slam the door in my face.”
“Oh, I doubt that. Marley’s a very savvy businesswoman. I don’t think she’d slam the door on anyone who walked into Secondhand Rose. At least not while customers were around.”
Rita considered this. That actually wasn’t such a bad idea. “You say her shop’s at Millersburg Mall? Where exactly is it located?”
“On the top level. A few doors down from Martindale’s Department Store. In fact, Marley’s shop is right next door to someone else you might remember.”
“Who’s that?”
“Zinnia.”
“Zinnia Williams?”
“That’s right.” He nodded. “She just opened it last year.”
Rita cringed to remember the uppity young woman who had worked as a receptionist for Rita’s mom. Although only a couple years older than Rita, Zinnia had always treated Rita like a child. Even after Rita had landed her rather impressive job in Beverly Hills and come back home to celebrate, Zinnia had acted unimpressed and superior. “So…Zinnia has a shop…right next to Marley’s?” she said quietly.
“Sure. And Zinnia and Marley are pretty good friends too.”
“Seriously?”
He laughed. “I know what you’re thinking. I heard Zinnia used to have a knack for rubbing people the wrong way. Fortunately, some people change.”
“You’re saying Zinnia has changed?”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
Rita thought about this. “I guess it was quite a few years ago. Back when she worked for my mom. What kind of shop does Zinnia have?”
“A hair salon.”
“My mom told me about a new hair salon at the mall. But she didn’t mention it was Zinnia’s. Mom was mostly concerned because she thought it was in breach of her lease contract—you know, that there could only be one hair salon in the mall. Apparently it wasn’t.”
“I think the salons have to be located a certain distance apart.” He pointed ahead. “And speaking of distance, here we are. Jackson Park Hospital at your service. How about if I deliver you to the front door?”
“Thanks! That would be lovely.” Rita braced herself for the cold again.
“And I’d be happy to drop your bags at your house, if you’d like. It’s not far out of my way and—”
“No, that’s okay,” she said as she opened the door, letting a frosty blast of air inside. “I’ll ask Ricky to stash them in his car.” She hurried around to the back of the Joll
y Janitor van, waiting as Johnny extracted her baggage. But instead of handing them over to her, he ran them up to the door and inside the foyer.
“Tell Donna that she’s in my prayers,” Johnny said as he slid the strap of her carry-on onto her shoulder. “You all are.”
“Thank you,” she told him. “For everything.”
“I know it’s not terribly elegant riding around in the Jolly Janitor van.” He grinned. “But it was the best I could do on short notice.”
She smiled. “It was just fine, Johnny. And it was warm. And the company couldn’t have been better.”
He made a mock bow. “Thank you very much.”
With a parting wave, she wheeled her bag through the lobby. She knew her focus should be on locating her mother, but for some reason her mind seemed stuck on Johnny.
Chapter 3
As Rita sat in the semidark hospital room, she replayed the moment when her mom had opened her eyes a couple of hours ago. Donna’s expression had been so happy and bright that for a moment Rita forgot that she’d suffered a serious stroke. Of course, the lopsided smile was reminder enough. Combined with the fact that her mother was unable to form actual words. Donna had moved her lips and made some sounds that may have made sense to her, but sounded like baby talk to Rita. Even so, Rita had clasped Donna’s hand, assuring her that things were going to get better.
“I hear that you’ve already made good progress,” Rita had told her. “I’m so proud of you.” Then she’d leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I love you, Mom. We’re going to get you well.” After that she’d simply chattered at her mom, talking about the warm weather in California and her uneventful flight and how the Jolly Janitor had picked her up at O’Hare. The flickering in Donna’s clear blue eyes made Rita believe she understood. And that gave her hope.
But watching her mother now was rather unsettling. Seeing her lying there so pale and helpless and motionless…with something still inside of her…something unknown and menacing that had brought on this stroke…well, it was quite disturbing. Rita knew from talking to the young intern on duty that nothing certain had been revealed in any of her tests yet.
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