Cash
Page 20
I would love to have a child, but knew it wasn’t possible.
“We’ll see, ma. First things first.”
She lifted my hand. “She needs a ring on this finger, you eejit.”
Cash scowled. “Enough with the eejits, ma.”
She glanced around the kitchen. “I got so carried away with looking at this fine thing, I forgot to feed you. Let me get something.”
I stood. “Can I help?”
She smiled. “If you’re willing.”
I could listen to her speak all night. Her Irish accent made even the simplest words sound multifaceted. Together, we prepared a meal of potatoes, bacon, cabbage, and onions. According to her, it was one of Cash’s favorites.
While she formed the mixture into patties and fried them in a skillet, I made two loaves of the bread Cash had grown to love.
“So, your love is shoes, is it?” she asked as I pulled the bread out of the oven.
“No. Shoes is what I can afford. Everything’s expensive in Southern California.”
“What’s your true love, Love?”
I sighed. “I’d love to have a nursery. I love growing flowers. Tending to them. Watching them grow. Nurturing them. Having them depend on me to support them and to sustain life. I never let them down. Mine are the best in the neighborhood.”
“Have you always loved tending flowers?” she asked.
“No. It started right after menopause,” I said with a laugh. “Go figure.”
She smiled. “I’ll pray that dream comes true one day.” She smiled. “The luck of the Irish.”
“Following my dreams isn’t going to be easy. Not in San Diego.”
“Don’t follow your dreams,” she said with a grin. “Chase them.”
After we ate, we had a cup of coffee. Cash talked about our plan to search for a home when we returned to San Diego. She seemed genuinely thrilled at the thought of us being together, and of us living together. Seeing her excitement – and witnessing her love for Cash – made me feel welcome, and almost as if I had a parent again.
When we finally decided to retire for the night, Erin walked me to the living room while Cash carried our things to the bedroom.
She placed her hand on my shoulder. “He called me one night in tears when you were apart,” she said. “His heart was broken.”
I didn’t know that he’d even told her. I felt terrible. Before I could tell her my fear of losing him was all that caused it, she gave me a hug.
“I told him, your feet will bring you where your heart is.” She kissed me on the cheek and then looked me over. “And, look where they took him.”
She turned away. “Sleep well.”
I smiled. “Thank you. Sweet dreams.”
* * *
We stayed for three wonderful days. I hated the thought of leaving but knew we must. A few hours ahead of a storm, we loaded our gear, and walked out to the motorbike together.
Cash looked up at the darkening sky. “I hope we miss this son-of-a-bitch.”
Erin smiled. “If you don’t, just remember, there’s nothing so bad that it couldn’t be worse.”
I thought about what she said long after we were gone. In fact, I thought about it for most of the trip.
When we arrived home, I missed having her around. I missed the immediate comebacks to Cash’s smart mouth, her Irish accent, and her Irish sayings that seemed to solve all of my problems and worries.
“When can we go back and visit your mother?” I asked as I unpacked my bag.
“Whenever you want.”
“Before summer’s over?”
“Sure.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
Upon reaching the bottom of the bag, I found a folded sheet of paper. Knowing I didn’t put it there, I unfolded it, wondering what it was, and how it got there. A few sentences were hand-written in a beautiful cursive script.
Kimberly,
I’m so sorry about your parents. I though this might help. Give it some thought.
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal.
Love leaves a memory no one can steal.”
Erin
I folded the piece of paper and closed my eyes.
Thank you.
THIRTY-EIGHT - Cash
As soon as we walked through the door, I fell in love. There were only two bedrooms, but the living room was humongous, and the rear of the home was all glass – giving a great view of the ocean from anywhere in the living room or kitchen. There was no room for a family, but it would be perfect for us and one guest – or entertaining. The home was in the perfect spot – in Point Loma, within walking distance of Sunset Cliffs.
The realtor walked into the kitchen and picked up the spec sheet from the countertop. “Let’s see. Twenty-six hundred square feet, two bedrooms, two full baths, and the owner will pay half the closing costs. Beach view, and a two-car garage. It’s tough to get a garage, so that’s an added bonus.”
“Let us look around,” Cash said.
“Did you see the ocean?” I asked excitedly. “When we parked?”
He glared. “Shh,” he whispered. “Don’t let him hear you. These guys are like sharks. When they smell blood, they strike.”
It was the fourth home we’d looked at with a beach view. Although we’d made offers on the other three, none of them were accepted. It seemed although that we could afford to buy a home on our combined income, having a home with a view of the beach was something we were not going to be able to afford.
It was, however, on Cash’s list of ‘must haves’.
The first bedroom was covered in pineapple pattern wallpaper from the nineteen fifties. The second was faded pink with stains on the walls surrounding the outlets and light switch covers.
Both bathrooms needed more than updating. They needed demolished and redone completely.
In short, I loved it.
When we walked into the kitchen, the realtor was looking under the kitchen sink.
“It appears we might have a small leak,” he said. “I shut the valves off.”
“How long has it been vacant?” Cash asked.
The realtor shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s been on the market for three hundred plus days.”
Cash pushed his hands deep into his pockets. “Tell you what. They’re asking a million six-fifty. I’ll give a million one. Fifty percent in cash, and I’m prequalified for the remainder. Thirty day close, the owner pays half the closing, and I’ll resolve whatever issues come up in the inspection short of termites. Take it or leave it.”
He chuckled. “That’s sixty-six percent of ask.”
“It’s a reasonable offer. They’ve been sitting on it for a year. It’s worth a million eight in perfect shape, and it needs three hundred grand worth of work. It’ll cost a hundred grand to get it to pass inspection. That’s a solid offer.”
He shook his head. “That’d be stealing this home.”
“It’s what I can afford.”
“Your inability to afford this home doesn’t warrant the owner taking a financial loss. Make it a million four, and I think we can make it work.”
“A million one is all I can do.”
I pulled Cash to the side. “I can take some of my money out of--”
“No,” he said. “I won’t consider it. That money stays in there until you’re retirement age. No exceptions.”
I sighed. “Okay.”
Over and over, I’d heard the same numbers, and the same “I’m sorry’s.” A million one hundred thousand wasn’t going to buy us a home with a beach view. We’d either need more money or to settle for a home without a view.
The problem was that after seeing homes with a beach view, I couldn’t imagine living in one without it.
“Are you going to make the offer?” Cash asked.
The realtor shrugged. “I’ll make it, but I doubt it’ll get a counter.”
“Give it a try,” Cash said.
He agreed, everyone shook hands, and we left. On the
hour-long ride home, I was disappointed. The home, although it needed tremendous work, had the best view of all the homes we’d seen. The yard was bigger than most in the neighborhood and would have looked spectacular with my personal touch.
I could see flower beds on either side of the front porch, and a lavishly landscaped area in the back yard. tending my flowers while listening to the waves crash ashore would ease my mind an any worries that could – or would – ever crop up.
I imagined cooking breakfast in the kitchen while I looked out at the ocean. Watching sunsets over the beach while we drank wine in the breakfast nook.
Cash pulled the motorcycle into the driveway and shut off the engine.
“Are you sure I can’t take a little out of my retirement?”
He pulled off his helmet. “No. The answer’s no.”
I sighed, mentally making note of Erin’s proverb about how things could always be worse. “Okay. Well, at least we’ve got a place to call home.”
Still standing beside his motorcycle, he pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped his thumb over the screen. After checking his messages, his face washed with sorrow.
“What?”
He shoved his phone into his pocket. “They said no. A million four. Best and final. I’m three hundred grand short.”
I wanted to cry, but I forced a smile. “I guess we’ll keep looking.”
“Looks like it.”
With his arm draped over my shoulder, we walked up the drive, and to the porch. While Cash fumbled for the key, I noticed the mailbox door was open, and that a small box was hanging out of it.
I grabbed the box, shrugged, and carried it to the door.
“What is it?” Cash asked.
“I don’t know. A box.”
He unlocked the door. “Who’s it from?”
I looked at the label affixed to the box. “R. Hood”
He scrunched his nose. “R. Hood?”
I looked at it again. “That’s what it says.”
“What’s the return address?”
I glanced at the label. It had my address listed as the return as well. “It has mine for both.”
We stepped into the living room.
“Open it,” he said.
I got a knife and cut the tape from the ends of the box, and then opened it. Inside, a bundle wrapped in brown paper was tied with a red bow. A small white card – similar to one that would be sent with flowers – was tucked under the bow.
I removed the card from the small envelope and opened it.
Thought this might come in handy
Robin
“What’s it say?” he asked.
I handed him the card.
He read it, and then laughed out loud.
“What?”
“It’s from R. Hood. And, he signed the card Robin. Get it?”
“Robin Hood? Oh.” I chuckled. “Cute.”
I untied the bow, unfolded the paper, and gasped at what was in my lap. Stacks of hundred-dollar bills, bound by yellow ribbons declaring ten thousand dollars per stack.
Cash and I counted them. There were twenty-nine in total. And, a smaller bundle of six thousand dollars.
“It’s two-hundred-ninety-six thousand dollars,” I said. “In cash.”
Cash pulled the phone out of his pocket and punched his fingers against the screen.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Just doing some figuring.”
“It’s exactly what we need for that house. Well, four thousand short, is all,” I said. “You didn’t…this isn’t from you, is it?’
He shook his head. “No.”
“Can we spend it?” I asked.
He nodded. “We can.”
“Do you know who it’s from?”
His mouth curled into a smirk. “I do.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you,” he said.
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Because I can’t.”
“But it’s okay to use?”
He smiled. “It sure is.”
I was so excited that I was shaking. “Do you want to call him, or can I?”
He handed me his phone.
With trembling hands, I opened the text message from the realtor, and pressed the little phone icon in the corner.
“There’s nothing I can do to get them to come down,” he said upon answering. “So, don’t ask.”
“Will they come down four thousand dollars?” I asked.
“Kimberly?”
“Yes, this is Kimberly.”
“Four thousand?”
“Yes,” I said. “Instead of five hundred fifty thousand in cash, it’ll be eight hundred and forty-six thousand.”
“Consider it done,” he said. “I’ll draft up the contract.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks again.”
I handed Cash the phone.
His eyes widened in wonder. “Well?”
“People who steal from the rich and give to the poor, are awesome.” I chuckled. “Tell the Prince of Thieves thank you. And, get your paint brushes ready. You just bought a house.”
“We,” he said.
“Huh?
“We bought a house. You said you bought a house. I didn’t buy it. We did.”
“Our house,” I said.
“That’s right,” he said. “Our house.”
It had a nice ring to it. I couldn’t wait to say it. Welcome to our home. Or even, hey, we’re free tonight. Would you like to come to our home? We can watch the sunset over the beach.
“I like that,” I said with a smile. “It has a nice ring to it.”
Epilogue
“Missus Flannigan, we’re out of Cleveland Sage,” Billy said. “And there’s a man here who wants a full pallet.”
I pulled off my reading glasses and set them aside. “How can we be out of Cleveland Sage? I just brought two-dozen pallets up on Wednesday.”
“You were gone yesterday, ma’am. Someone from El Cajon came in and bought all that was left. He bought all the Matilija Poppies as well. I put a note on your desk.”
My desk was a mess, but it was always a mess by the time Saturday arrived. I glanced around my desk only to find a dozen notes I hadn’t got to yet.
“No more notes, Billy. Send me a text message or an email. Or find Tisha, or Jennifer if you have to.”
He lowered his head. “Okay.”
“I’m not mad,” I said apologetically. “I just. I’m sorry. I’m frustrated. Not with you, though. Who bought the Cleveland Sage?”
He looked up. “He was a contractor for that new golf course. He said they’re the best he’s seen.”
My heart fluttered at the thought of such a compliment. But my operation was small. We didn’t buy flowers from wholesalers and resell them. We grew them from seeds. They were my babies.
“Oh, wow, tell him we appreciate his business,” I said. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. Cash and I were at the…we had a meeting.”
“Was it?” His face lit up. “Did you hear?”
“It was. And no, we haven’t. Not yet. We’re still waiting. Praying is more like it. Have you seen him? This morning?”
“He was in earlier, but just for a few minutes.”
Saturday was Cash’s only day to work at our nursery. He devoted about four hours to situating things, loading trucks, and doing heavy lifting.
Sometimes Reno would help him, and from time to time Tito or Ghost would show up. All in all, my dreams had come true. All but one, that is.
I set my glasses aside. “Thank you. I’ll see if I can find him.”
As Billy walked away, I glanced at my desk. Covered in notes, catalogs, and magazines, it was impossible for me to see all the notes Billy left on my desk. He was a great kid, but he wasn’t much of a techie.
The offspring of two SoCal hippies, he carried an old-school flip phone that he used for emergencies only.
“Sherwood Florist,” I said. “This is Kimberly.”
“Kimberly, this is Janet, from placement. How are you?”
My heart stopped. “I’m uhhm. I’m.” I tried to swallow but couldn’t. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and swallowed hard. “I’m great.”
“I’m sorry to call on Saturday, but I felt it would be best if I did. I know how you and Brock have been disappointed with…well, there’s no sense in prolonging this. I’m sorry, I’m stammering, I think I’m as excited as you two are going to be.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. “Do I….do I have a reason to be excited? Do we have a reason to be excited?”
“You do. You’ve been selected,” she said. “Congratulations.”
I gasped, and almost dropped the phone. My eyes welled with tears. “Really?”
“It’s true. I have the paperwork drafted, and all we have to do is get everything signed. She’s scheduled to be born on the eighteenth of next month, so I hope everything’s in order.”
I reached for the Parenting magazine I’d cast aside and admired the cover. A precious photo of a baby girl holding a rattle brought tears down my cheeks.
“Kimberly? Are you there?”
I wiped my tears. “I’m sorry. yes,” I blubbered. “I am.”
“When can I expect you?” she asked. “To sign the paperwork?”
“Is this morning too soon?”
“It’s normally my day off, but I’ll be here until noon.”
“We’ll be there before noon,” I said excitedly. “Thank you, Janet.”
I drew a deep breath, regained my composure, and pressed the all page button on the phone.
“Cash Brockton Flannigan, to the office. Cash Brockton Flannigan to the office. This is a nine-one-one.”
I hung up the phone and smiled.
Before I could get the article on the joys of teething found, he rushed through the door. “What?”
With my mascara running down my face, I looked up.
His look changed from worry to disappointment.