* * * *
Edith stomps back to the truck, the back of her neck red. She yanks open the door, guns the engine, and slams her palm against the steering wheel when it stalls. Waiting, she glares at the clusters of people smiling and chatting on the church’s front lawn. Brother Silas is there. Is he smiling? He’s looking at that envelope the same way Mickey used to look at Trixie at the club.
She skids to a stop in Gator Joe’s driveway. Inside, she pulls off her hat and gloves as she marches to the bedroom. Stuffing her gloves in the top drawer, she pauses, searching for the postcard Maggie sent from Italy.
With growing urgency, she takes out each article of clothing, piling them on her bed. The drawer is empty. She repeats the process with each drawer. She checks the garbage pail. No postcard.
Edith hurries to the screen door of the barroom that frames Leroy sitting on the dock with his fishing pole.
“Leroy, come here please.”
He scrambles up to the veranda. “Yes, Miz Edith? You have a good time at church?”
“Did you see a postcard addressed to me. An Italian stamp on it? On the front is a picture of small boats and men standing at the back of them, paddling.”
Leroy shakes his head.
“I put it away in my dresser drawer, and now it’s gone.”
“I don’t know nothing about it, Miz Edith. Maybe somebody took it?”
“Why would anyone want an old postcard from Italy?”
Chapter 37
E dith has taken a few days to cool off before returning to Coconut Grove, but an empty pantry and mail can’t be put off any longer. Tucked in her purse beside her new handgun and her grocery list, she has letters to be sent to Philadelphia.
The first one is for her dear friend Maggie who, along with her former housekeeper Hilda, has packed up the house and shipped her items south. There have been a few offers on the house in Philly, but nothing that excites her. She’d poured her heart and soul into that house and she’d rather it sat empty than the wrong buyer take it.
The second letter is for Sadie and Henry. They’ve been asking how she’s getting on and wants to reassure them that everything’s rosy. Or maybe people in Florida say peachy?
The final letter is a personal one to Henry, asking for some business advice. He’d been involved with all of Mickey’s projects since they were kids; if anyone knows how to pack a speakeasy with customers, it’s Henry.
Deciding to take a break from her errands, Edith relaxes in Stella’s Café with a cup of coffee. Moody oceans and tropical greenery are the inspiration for the local art that lines the walls. She remembers Harley talking about the Bohemian roots to the area and Edith is fascinated, imagining herself a painter, her easel set up at the end of the dock.
Lost in this emerging vision of a fantasy future, she fails to notice the sudden buzz in the café or the tall, stately woman wearing ropes of beads, a colorful blouse, and long patterned skirt approaching her table.
She sits down across from a startled Edith. “Mind if I join you?”
“I was enjoying sitting alone,” Edith says by habit, her defensive walls quickly raised.
“I know, Miz Edith. And that’s partly why I’m here. To see if we can’t change that a bit. Alone is good, but no woman is an island. Especially one running a blind tiger.”
Edith’s eyes narrow. “Wait, I know you. From outside the café. You’re Leroy’s Aunt Cassie.” She relaxes and smiles. “At last. I’ve been hoping we’d meet. Leroy speaks of you often.”
“Of me and anything else that catches his fancy. That boy could talk the legs off a chair.” The two women chuckle.
“And eat. A bottomless pit,” Edith says, grinning.
“How’s he doing here? It tore me apart to send him away, but it was time for him to learn town-ways.”
“That was a pretty serious step. At first I thought he must have run away, but I figured out eventually that you must have been okay with his going.”
“Not okay. Never okay. It’s always hard to see them go, isn’t it? But it was time. And having seen you in action that day, I knew that you’d look after him. Tell me, how’s he doing?”
Edith seriously considers the answer. If she had raised Leroy, she’d want a thoughtful response, not platitudes.
“He’s a curious boy, so Coconut Grove and Gator Joe’s keeps him entertained. He’s lonely, and there aren’t a lot of kids around for him to play with. Not too many adults to play with either. I’m not the best role-model for nurturing a collection of friends. He’s also searching, for family, for answers to what his roots are, who his people are.”
Cassie nods. “Aren’t we all, Miz Edith, aren’t we all? Don’t sell yourself short on the friendship front. You are one of the rare folks that take risks with people. You don’t play it safe with your friendships. Leroy will find his way, as will you.”
“You sound like you know a lot about me.”
“How about schooling? I was hoping Leroy might get some education while he’s at your place. He’s a smart boy.”
Edith looks sceptical. “The law says he has to be in school until he’s fourteen, but nobody enforces it. There’re lots Leroy’s age that are working rather than sitting in a classroom. He doesn’t seem too interested in that kind of education, but I can guarantee he’s learning lots.”
“How about I read your cards? Leroy must have told you I do that for folks in Coconut Grove. One of the reasons why I got run out of town.”
“Really? Run out of town? Some days I feel that’s what they’re trying to do to me.”
“I don’t doubt it. Small towns seem to have more than their fair share of small minds. You gotta watch the old biddies in this place. They can turn nasty if you’re different.”
Cassie frowns with her words, a bad memory flitting across her face. “And look out if you’re a woman who doesn’t follow their rules. Your story and mine are pretty much the same, minus the cards of course. People who would come see me after dark, or through the kitchen door, shunned me in the daytime or on the front street. When you know secrets, people get scared. And when they get scared, they get their backs up. Like I said, nasty.”
“Working behind the bar at Gator Joe’s I’m learning that bartenders are a bit like that. People share things with me they’d never tell anyone else, and then regret it when they get home and sober up.”
Cassie reaches into a bag at her feet. “How about it, Edith, shall I read your cards?”
“No offense, Cassie, but I don’t believe in that stuff. I make my own fate.”
Cassie chuckles. “The first Cassandra was an ancient Greek soothsayer, cursed not to have her prophecies heard or understood. I guess I come from a long line of Cassie’s,” she says, tucking her cards into her lap. She continues to shuffle them under the table, unseen by café patrons. Edith is only aware because of the swaying of the beads around her neck.
Cassie stops and closes her eyes.
“Cassie, are you all right?” Edith says in a whisper.
Cassie smiles. “It’s nice to have you sitting in the chair across from me. Makes this easier. Here, take this card.”
Edith puts her hands in her lap. “I told you I don’t believe in this.”
“Come on, Miz Edith. Aren’t you curious? Even if it’s to hear how foolish I am?”
Edith huffs, takes the card, and looks at it. “This is like the cards that I’ve been finding at Gator Joe’s. Tucked away in the strangest places.”
Cassie closes her eyes. “Tell me what you see.”
Edith holds it and looks closely. After all, this is the woman who raised Leroy; she deserves consideration.
“My card is a picture of an injured man leaning heavily against a staff sprouting leaves. Or perhaps he’s holding it tightly like a weapon. There are eight wands or staffs behind him, creating a fence. What do all these sticks mean? Is the man hurt?”
Cassie opens her eyes. She nods and smiles. “Very good, ah-ma-chamee. The Nine of Wan
ds is a sign that, even in the face of adversity, you stand tall and strong. You may be on the edge of exhaustion, but you are resilient, persistent, and ready to do what it takes to get to the finish line.”
Edith leans forward, bending her head toward Cassie. “I am tired. There’s so much to do, and sometimes it feels like fate is pulling the rug out from under me.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Miz Edith, but it’s plain to see how worn down you are. Hard work. Not sleeping well. All the worry of the saloon and the attitude around town. Tsk. The Nine of Wands often comes along when you feel battered and bruised. Just when you think you are making progress, you suffer another setback.”
“Two steps forward and one step back?”
“Exactly. The card is asking you to trust that this is merely a test of your ‘grit’, and know that every time you overcome an obstacle you are getting stronger.”
“That is all nice enough. But really, I don’t believe any of it is special to me. You could be saying these things to anyone in this café, and it would sound true. Basically, you’re telling me, if I don’t succeed at first, to try again. Ha. That’s unique? Don’t we all feel a bit overwhelmed by fate at times?”
Cassie leans back in her chair, scrutinizing Edith. “We create our fate every day we live.”
Edith sips her coffee and grimaces. Stone cold. “Can I get you another cup of coffee, Cassie? I’m going to get a fresh cup for me.”
Edith waits at the counter. So, this is the famous Aunt Cassie. No wonder she’s a little nuts, living off in the ‘Glades by herself. I couldn’t have done it. What is she hiding from? And this hogwash about nines. Silly fortune-teller stuff. Just a bunch of parlor tricks. Nothing you wouldn’t see at any carney. And sending Leroy off like that. He’s just a little boy. It feels like there’s something deeper to all this.
Cassie accepts the offered coffee; no evidence of any cards. “I’m happy that Leroy is feeling safe with you. There are bad elements in Coconut Grove, Miz Edith. You already met the worst of the bad lot: Brother Silas. The same day you met me and Leroy.”
“And I got an earful at his church last Sunday.” Edith’s frown speaks volumes.
“Be careful, Miz Edith. I’m not saying this because of the cards, although they do carry a warning. I’m telling you this as Leroy’s only family. There are things about Brother Silas and Leroy that have to be kept buried.”
Edith nods. She’ll not let any harm come to the boy. “But what?”
“Brother Silas will try to oppose your plans, make things difficult for you, or even attack you for what you are putting out into the world. He’s jealous of your success.”
Edith feels a shiver pass over her. “Be careful? Of what? Why would a preacher be jealous of me?”
Cassie shakes her head. “The card is to guide you to a deeper understanding. It’s for you to know, not me.” She sips her coffee.
“You can’t tell me it’s a guide without explaining about the guidance. Is the warning something about me? About Gator Joe’s? About Leroy?”
Cassie gazes out the window, still sipping her coffee.
“I’ve had it up to here with this strange town. All this mumbo-jumbo crap is the last straw. Dire warnings. Woo-woo. No explanations.” Edith’s cheeks are scarlet as she hisses at Cassie. When Cassie continues to sit unperturbed, Edith bangs her cup down on the table. The only attention she draws is from frowning patrons, and the waitress wiping down the counter.
Her teeth bared, Edith grips the edge of the edge of the table and leans in close. “I believe in myself, not your silly cards. In fact, I’m the only one I believe in. Everybody else eventually lets you down. If you’re worried about Leroy, come and get him. And as for Gator Joe’s, if you want something different than the usual, you gotta take risks. One thing you should know about me, Cassie, is I’m no ordinary gal. Careful is for saps.”
The waitress comes over. “Ma’am, is there a problem?”
Edith waves her away. Take it easy. This is the woman who raised Leroy. You don’t want to cause offense.
Edith stands to leave. She offers her hand to Cassie. “I’m sorry I shouted. It’s been a rough week. I’ve got to go, but you’re welcome at Gator Joe’s anytime. Leroy misses you.”
Cassie stands then hugs Edith, whose rigid body resists the embrace. “Thank you, Miz Edith, but I don’t think I will just yet. It would be too hard on me to see the boy and then have to leave. For right now I’ll watch through the cards like I always do. Make sure to tell Leroy hi from me, and mention ‘the nine’. He knows about cards and will know what to do.”
* * * *
Through the café window, Cassie—a ghost of a smile on her lips—watches Edith stride down the street. “Always diving in headfirst. Well, I hope you can swim, ah-ma-chamee.”
“Miz Cassie, is that you?” an older woman asks, leaning close and speaking quietly. “I thought so. Do you think you could come ‘round the house before you leave town? I’ve been worried about Freddy staying out all night and straying, and would like to ask you a few questions.”
Cassie barely nods. “Of course, Miz Agnes. If I recall, your cat does tend to wander. Well, let’s see what the cards say. I’ll come by shortly. I have one or two other stops first. All right?”
“Oh, thank you, Miz Cassie. And you’ll be sure to use the back door, won’t you?”
* * * *
Rattled, Edith targets the post office as she marches down the street. That Aunt Cassie is a strange one. It’s a wonder Leroy’s turned out as normal as he is. All that stuff about tarot cards. Pft. Just another odd duck in a place full of them.
Other pedestrians either stare or look away as she passes.
I don’t get this town. People spend way too much time listening to folks like Brother Silas. They don’t know what to do with somebody like me.
Two women coming out of the mercantile glare at her and snigger behind gloved hands.
Well, I’ll show them. What I need is to make a splash. An official Grand Opening would be just the ticket. It’s been over two weeks since I threw open the doors with barely a whisper and that’s what the problem is. To get them lined up around the block, I need a party big enough that everybody in town—heck, everybody in Dade County—is talking about Gator Joe’s and telling folks it’s the cat’s pajamas.
Chapter 38
E xcited about the idea of a Grand Opening, Edith jumps in the truck and heads back to Gator Joe’s. There’s lots of planning to be done. She’s met by a man sitting on the front step of the veranda, hat in hand. He stands as she comes down the path from parking the truck.
“Good afternoon. Sorry, but we’re not open until seven.”
“No, I’m here about something else, Miz Edith. My name’s Tucker Wilson and I run a blind tiger over in Cutler. I’ve got a bit of business to discuss with you if you’d like to go inside.”
“Nice to meet you Mr. Wilson.”
“Tucker, please.”
They sit at a table in the barroom. “What can I do for you, Tucker?”
“I have been admiring what you’ve done with the place, Miz Edith. Nice improvements. Developing a great little business here. Joe would be happy to see the place prospering again.”
Edith smiles and waits.
“Like I said, I have a blind tiger in Cutler. It’s a smaller place than Coconut Grove and having something in a bigger town, closer to Miami, could open all kinds of possibilities. I’m wondering if you would consider selling Gator Joe’s?”
Edith sits back in her chair. Shocked. “I’ve not considered it, Tucker.”
“I have a backer. He’s prepared to make a generous offer. A very generous offer.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind. However, Gator Joe’s isn’t for sale.”
Tucker reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded paper. He smooths it out and slides it across the table toward Edith. “Have a look before you make a decision. It’s a very, very generous offer.”
&n
bsp; Edith picks up the paper and gasps.
Tucker smiles. “The way I see it, Gator Joe’s has lots of potential. Especially with Miami getting bigger. It’s a really good location and, like I said, you’ve put some money into the place and it shows.”
Still staring at the paper, Edith says, “I don’t know what to say, Tucker. This has caught me off-guard.”
“My backer is anxious to make a good investment, either here or somewhere else. Why don’t you think on it? But don’t take too long. My telephone number is at the bottom of the paper and you can call me if you have any questions. We can talk about it again after you’ve had a chance to sleep on it for a few days.”
Tucker shows himself out, leaving Edith to sit at the table and stare at the paper.
Where did this come from? And isn’t that just like fate. Here I am planning the official Grand Opening and wham-o, somebody wants to snatch it out from under me. Gator’s is managing—given its newness—but this is excessive. Although, who am I to say it’s not going to be worth it in a year or two. It would be a quick turn-around and a substantial return on the investment. Anna would be impressed. I could leave and start something else somewhere else, leaving the biddies and unhelpful storekeepers of Coconut Grove behind.
* * * *
Tucker Wilson drives back to his saloon, then calls Meyer Lansky.
“I did what you said, sir. Presented her the offer.”
“Did she fall off her chair?”
“She was pretty shocked, all right.” Tucker chuckles.
“And she doesn’t know it’s from me, right? You kept my name out of it?”
“Yes, sir. Just like you told me to.”
“Good. The price would go up—a lot—if she knew I was behind it.”
“If you don’t mind my asking sir, why the interest? There are lots of blind tigers around that would jump at half that price. Mine for instance.”
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