Less Than Frank Part 5

"If you felt that way about Frank, why are you here tonight?"

He lifted one broad shoulder. "We were working on a job together. And Dad wanted to pay his respects to Mrs. Collins. She's not a part of what happened with her husband."

I felt like I'd already pressed my luck, but I decided to go a little further. "That explains why your dad is here. How about you?"

Bob shrugged and I could see his muscles ripple under his s.h.i.+rt. Plumbing must beat going to the gym any day. "It seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, I hang out with Darnell some. He's okay. Frank probably owed him as much money as he owed anybody else."

Now that surprised me more than most of the other things I'd learned tonight. Darnell didn't seem like the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I wondered why he'd work for somebody who wasn't paying him on time, and I said so to Bob. His face colored up, and he looked at the floor for a minute, seeming to compose himself. "I don't know. Maybe the job had other benefits," he mumbled. Still looking uncomfortable, he said goodbye.

What kind of side benefits was he talking about? I had to think they were something that Bob Leopold didn't want to mention in front of a woman like me who was probably near the age of his mother. Given Frank Collins's reputation, I could think of several things that would cover.

Once we were driving home, Dot and I talked about our various conversations. I told her about what Bob Leopold had said, both about Frank owing them money and what he'd intimated about Darnell. Dot seemed agitated by that.

"Everything I hear about Frank stirs me up more. And it tells me that I should have talked to Candace before now about Frank's death. She's going to be upset because of it. She may even want to go to the funeral."

I wasn't totally sure what Candace had to do with what I'd just told Dot. She'd hinted before that one of Candace's former roommates might have had problems with Frank. But that had been years ago. Was there still something going on that would involve Candace with Frank besides the fact that her roommate might be dating someone on the plumbing crew? It wasn't really my business to ask.

Dot looked at the dashboard clock. "It's only eight-thirty. Do you mind if we make a detour to Camarillo and talk to Candace?"

It would only take an extra forty-five minutes or so, and Dot wanted to do it. "That's fine with me." I could always study a little later. And now I was interested to hear what Candace had to say, a.s.suming I went with Dot into the group home. I should probably offer to stay outside while they had a private conversation.

"Great. Then do me a favor. Reach down in between our seats and get my cell phone out of my purse. On one of the speed dial numbers I've got the phone at Candace's house. Kirsten will probably answer. She's the 'house mother' in charge. Explain who you are and ask if it's okay if we stop by tonight. I don't want to go out there to find out that Candace is at the movies or something."

I found her phone and did what she asked. As predicted, a perky female voice answered, saying "Rose House, this is Kirsten. How can I help you?"

"Kirsten, my name is Gracie Lee Harris and I'm a friend of Dot Morgan's."

"I knew I should recognize that phone number. Dot's okay, I hope."

"She's fine, but she was wondering if it would be all right for her to stop by in a short time and talk to Candace."

"Sure. We're not into anybody's bedtime routine yet here, just sitting around playing board games and listening to music in the living room. Tell her to come on over."

Now I was interested to see Kirsten, too. She sounded very pleasant and full of energy. But then I imagined she'd have to be in her position or she wouldn't last long. I thanked her, said goodbye and turned off the phone. "Kirsten says that Candace is there, playing board games and listening to music. In fact, she said for you to come on over."

"Good. I'm not sure she'll be happy to see me once she sees why I'm there. I don't want to stir up the girls, but the news probably will."

Dot stayed on the freeway from Simi Valley past the exits for Rancho Conejo, switched freeways and headed on toward Camarillo on the 101. We took one of the first exits for that city and were soon in a residential area of pleasant but not palatial homes. She pulled up to a ranch-style house on a corner. There was light in almost all of the front windows.

She looked over at me. "Of course you're coming in with me. I wouldn't dream of leaving you out here alone. Besides, I might want reinforcements, depending on how the conversation with Candace goes."

"Okay." If Dot wanted me inside, I would be more than happy to go. We went up the front walk and Dot rang the bell. I could hear music playing inside, and the sounds of laughter. Then the door opened and a young woman with pale blond hair motioned us to come in. Southern California was certainly full of Scandinavian-looking women. And they all seemed to be a size two.

"Hi, Dot. Is this your friend who made the phone call for you? Thanks for not calling yourself while you were driving. I worry about people who do that."

"You don't have to worry about me. I don't use that thing if I'm driving unless it's a true emergency. Kirsten, this is my friend Gracie Lee Harris. She just went to a visitation at Dodd and Sons with me and when we talked afterward I came to the conclusion that I needed to tell Candace about her cousin's death. They weren't very close, but she might want to go to the funeral tomorrow."

Kirsten tilted her head in thought. On her it looked charming. "Okay. She and Lucy and Tina are over at the table playing dominoes and listening to Barry Manilow."

Dot laughed softly. "Let me guess. It was Tina's turn to pick the music."

Kirsten smiled, revealing even white teeth and making her blue eyes sparkle. "You got it." She looked at me. "Tina only has one favorite artist. Barry Manilow. I think I now know all the words to 'Copacabana' by heart."

I groaned internally, knowing now that there was no way I could do Kirsten's job as cheerfully and calmly as she did it. Still smiling, the young woman pointed me toward the table where Dot had claimed the fourth seat. I recognized Candace from seeing her at church. She was a bit shorter and wider than Dot, with brown hair and gla.s.ses. Her features didn't have the most obvious cast of some people I'd known with Down syndrome. A casual look at Candace might show a stranger just a slightly heavy, plainly dressed young woman. Only close observation, and hearing her somewhat slow speech, would tell someone of her disability.

She had gotten up to hug Dot. "This is a surprise, Mom. It's Tuesday night. You never come over on Tuesday night. What is going on?"

Dot flashed a brief smile and Candace went back to her seat. "I have some bad news that I want to tell you in person, Candace."

Her daughter looked worried. "Did something happen to Daddy? Or my Dixie dog?"

"No, they're both fine, Candace. Do you remember my cousin Frank?"

Candace's expression went from worried to troubled. Standing behind Dot, I also noticed that one of her domino-playing companions had stopped playing and was intent on the conversation. This young woman was younger than Candace and strikingly beautiful. She was a little heavyset, and tried to conceal that with loose sweats, but her face was lovely. She had huge brown eyes with long dark lashes, and glossy black hair. And right now her lower lip was trembling a little.

"I remember Frank," Candace said, a little louder than necessary. "Did something happen to him, Mom? I hope it did. He's not a nice man."

Dot looked a little surprised by her daughter's vehemence. "Yes, something happened to him. He had an accident and he died, Candace. There will be funeral services for him at church tomorrow morning. Do you want to go?"

Candace shook her head. "No. I have to work tomorrow and I don't want to ask for a day off. And you said that we go to funerals because we're sad when somebody dies. I don't think I'm sad about Frank."

Candace was usually pretty blunt, but I'd never heard her express a hurtful thought about anybody before. She was the kind of person who bent down and took earthworms off the sidewalk so they wouldn't dry up before they got to a strip of gra.s.s. The more I heard people talk about Frank Collins, the more I wondered about all the parts of his life I hadn't been privy to. He certainly engendered a lot of hard feelings in the people he dealt with. This was, as the kids would say, one bad dude.

"I want to go to the funeral, Candace's mom. Will you take me?" Dot looked almost as surprised by the other woman's request as she had at Candace's outburst.

"Sure, Lucy. I'd be happy to take you. Can you get off work tomorrow? I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Wednesday is my day off. I don't have to go in," Lucy said. As I looked at Lucy more closely I could see one thing that might explain why she was living in a group home when at first she looked perfectly normal. The right side of her head didn't appear to be shaped the same way as the left, making a shallow curved indentation under her black hair. Perhaps she'd suffered brain damage at some point. When we were alone I would ask Dot about it.

"All right, then there's no problem with you going," Dot said and paused a moment. "Did you know about Frank before I came tonight?" Dot's question struck me as a little strange until I remembered that she had told me before that Lucy was dating a young man apprenticed to the plumber. I had probably seen Matt without really knowing it when the kitchen in the apartment was being reworked. I tried to think back to Leopold's crew, but couldn't remember what he or his helpers looked like.

Lucy looked down at the table. "I knew. Matt told me. He's going to go tomorrow, too. I want to sit with him."

"I think that can be arranged," Dot said. Suddenly she looked back at me. "Goodness, where are my manners? Gracie Lee, this is Candace's roommate Lucy, and across the table from me is their friend Tina. Lucy and Tina, this is my friend Gracie Lee. She goes to my church, and lives in the apartment where Candace used to live a few years ago."

"Hi, Gracie Lee," Lucy said. Tina looked up at me and then looked at Lucy while she scowled slightly. On her thin, slightly pinched face it wasn't an attractive expression. Tina looked a little older than the other two, with short, straw-blond hair and faded blue eyes. I noticed that the dominoes in front of them all were the kids version that had pictures instead of dots to count. It was probably easier for some of them to manage.

Tina was still scowling. "Are you going to play dominoes or not, Lucy? It's your turn."

Lucy waved one hand. "In a minute, Tina. If you want to play right now, ask Kirsten to play for me. I need to talk to Candace's mom."

Lucy's smooth forehead wrinkled in thought. "About what Candace said before. Do I have to be sad that Frank is dead to go to his funeral? 'Cause I'm not very sad, just a little bit."

The corners of Dot's mouth twitched as if she was trying to stifle a smile. "You can be as sad as you want to be, Lucy, whether that's a little or a lot. If you want to go to the funeral, I'll take you. Can you be ready about nine-thirty?"

Lucy nodded. "Tell Kirsten I'm going so she can remind me to get up on time. I don't get up very early on my day off. I like to sleep in."

"I'll do that. And now we should let you three go back to your domino game," Dot said. She got up from the table and went behind Candace, putting her arms around her daughter for a hug while she sat. "Goodbye, sweet girl. If you change your mind you can come with Lucy tomorrow."

Candace shook her head, concentrating on the dominoes in front of her. "I told you, Mom. I have to work tomorrow. And I don't want to go. Good night." She looked up quickly at her mother and smiled a little. "Sleep tight."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite. See you in the morning light," Dot answered back. "But only if I get here before you go to work. I'll go talk to Kirsten. I'm letting them go back to the game now, Tina."

"Good. I have to get ready for bed soon," Tina said. "It's still your turn, Lucy." In a moment the women at the table were again concentrating on their game. We went across the room to where Kirsten sat, looking like she was grading a stack of papers.

"Do you teach?" I asked her, motioning to the papers.

"I sub some. I'm getting my teaching credential so I can go full-time. Plus some of the clients here benefit from a brush-up once in a while, so I bring worksheets home at night for them, too."

Dot filled her in on the plans for the morning and afterward Kirsten showed us to the door.

When we got into the car, Dot didn't start up the engine right away. I turned to ask her what was happening and it surprised me to see that she was crying. "Okay, what's up?" I asked, patting her hand. It was unlike her to cry and I needed to know which part of what happened in the house had upset my friend so much.

Chapter Nine.

Dot got more composed after she sat for a minute. She took the tissue that I had pulled from the box sitting between our seats. "What part of all that got me upset? There were several things, to tell the truth. Candace didn't react the way I expected her to at all. And Lucy wanting to go with me...I didn't expect that, either."

She used the tissue again and sighed. "Even some of the sweet things about tonight upset me. The way Candace slipped right into our little bedtime rhyme. I miss having her close to me, but I know she's so much better off where she is. I still worry, though. Doesn't every mother?"

"I know I do. Almost every parent I know worries about their kids. Edna was worrying about Dennis when he was over forty and she was in her seventies. I don't think it stops."

"Until we're dead," Dot said wryly. "Then at least we can give the worries over to Jesus the way I have so much trouble doing in this life. Struggling with that always makes me think that I could be so much better as a Christian."

"I have a feeling that everybody has problems like that. Now, should I drive home or are you up to it?"

Dot used her tissue one last time and put it down. "I'm up to it. That little bout of tears caught me by surprise, I guess. But it's over now and we can get on with other things. I better get us home if we're going to get up and ready for that funeral tomorrow."

"Do you want me to go with you and Lucy? If you like, I can do it."

"But it would mean that you'd have to cut cla.s.s, and maybe miss a little work, right?" Dot started the car and checked the street before she pulled out of our parking s.p.a.ce in front of the house.

"It would. But for you, Dot, I'd do it."

"This time you don't have to, Gracie Lee. It's very nice of you to offer, but I think Lucy and I will be just fine together."

"She's a very pretty girl. Has she lived at the group home very long?"

"Less than a year. I think she's their newest resident. There are three women you didn't see tonight, Tina's roommate and two others. They must have been off doing something together with one of the aides. Lucy has a sad story, but then I suppose everybody there does in their own way."

Dot merged onto the freeway now and I held off asking her any more questions until she got a little farther along. "Did Lucy's situation change at home to bring her there with the others, or was she already living somewhere else?"

"She lived with her sister, who's a lot older than Lucy is. The sister got a promotion at work at the hospital in Thousand Oaks, and she was afraid that Lucy wouldn't get enough attention. Plus, she may have just needed a break. She's raised Lucy since she was eight."

"Wow. That is quite a burden. How did she manage?"

"Very well for somebody who was only in her first year of college at the time. Lucy and her parents were involved in a bad auto accident. Her parents were killed outright, and Lucy suffered a head injury that left her with brain damage."

I shook my head, and then realized that Dot probably couldn't see what I was doing while she concentrated on driving in the dark. "That is sad. Did the sister at least have some kind of faith to pull her through?"

"They were churchgoers. Estella hasn't shared a lot with me, and I don't feel I know her well enough to push the subject too far. I think she'd be another good candidate for Christian Friends if she could find a group that met while she wasn't working. She's a critical-care nurse at the hospital and puts in some very long hours, often on twelve-hour s.h.i.+fts."

"I can just imagine." We were nearing home now and I found myself looking forward to a little bit of studying and a warm bed. For a change I had a relatively normal day to look forward to tomorrow and that sounded very good.

When we pulled into the driveway Dot and I talked for a little while longer, then went our separate ways. Once I settled into the apartment I wished I'd gotten Sophie again to keep me company. But by then I'd already put on ratty old sweats and slippers and made a cup of tea, so instead of going out and getting a dog I just hunkered down with my books. I knew I wouldn't sleep as well alone tonight, but I was too tired to exert myself to get company.

Wednesday almost flew by at school. I had two cla.s.ses to attend and a four-hour s.h.i.+ft at the Coffee Corner. Halfway into my s.h.i.+ft I looked up and Linnette stood in line two customers from the front. By the time I could wait on her there wasn't much of anybody behind her and we were able chat for a moment.

"What does your evening look like?" she asked, taking her latte.

"I've got to put in some time studying for finals, but I'm fairly flexible. What do you have in mind?"

"I'd like to do a partial Christian Friends get-together. Lexy and Heather can't make it, and I couldn't even reach Paula but I know Dot went to that funeral today and I think she wants to talk about it. I thought maybe the three of us could go out someplace casual and have dinner or dessert together and hang out."

It sounded very good to me and I told her so. "Let me know when and where and I'll be there."

"I'll call Dot while I'm still on break and set things up." Linnette took her coffee and headed back toward the bookstore. I knew she'd been busy lately with the end of the semester book buy-back program. Not everybody waited until finals were over to sell their unwanted textbooks. Personally I wanted to squeeze every drop of knowledge I could out of the expensive things before I gave any of them up. Even buying books used meant a pretty hefty expense. The first two times I had to buy graduate school books I nearly lost it. And if I had been stunned, it was nothing to the way Ben reacted his first trip through the bookstore.

He'd called me afterward, nearly foaming at the mouth. "Mom! My books cost, like, three hundred dollars and I didn't get all of them that I needed," he'd said with a note of panic. Maybe he expected sympathy, but I'd told him to get used to it, that almost every semester would be like that. I could tell he didn't want to believe me. Within days some soph.o.m.ores and juniors in his dorm said the same thing. Them, he believed. Of course, everything always carries more weight from a total stranger than one's mother.

Then, as if thinking about him drew him to the coffee shop, there was Ben in front of me. "Hey. Think you can make me a hot chocolate on my study break? Maybe it better be mint mocha instead. More caffeine." He grinned at me and I wanted to reach over the counter and hug him, but refrained.

"Sure. With whipped cream or without?" He looked less stressed than I'd seen him any time in the last two weeks, which made me feel relieved.

"With, of course. And chocolate sprinkles if you've got them."

"I've got something close," I told him, starting to work on his mocha. In a minute or so it was done and sitting in front of him crowned with plenty of whipped cream and shaved chocolate. For a change I let him give me his student meal card and I ran it through the machine that debited his account for the mocha. Maria almost always insisted on making his drinks for free, but I didn't think that was fair every time and Ben agreed with me.

"Sorry I can't take my break while you're here, but you can see that I'm alone." Maria had left forty-five minutes before, making a supply and bank run. Naturally, I'd been busy ever since. This was the first time that students and faculty weren't lined up to get coffee and treats.

"That's okay, Mom. I really am just on a study break before my last cla.s.ses of the semester. I wanted to stop in and say hi, though. I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too." I considered seeing Ben almost every day one of the perks of the job. He might think otherwise sometimes, but it was nice to see that he still needed me occasionally. "So, when is your first final?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Friday, ten o'clock. I think it's going to be the toughest one, too. Good ol' Philosophy of Religion. My favorite."

"Any others that day?"

He shook his head. "Nope. One on Monday, and two on Tuesday, so at least that's pretty good. How about you?"

"Friday daytime, Monday night and Tuesday night," I told him. "Spread out nicely and Friday is really just turning in a final project." Of course I'd been working on that final project more hours than he'd be likely to study for most of his tests put together, but I didn't want to tell him that. No sense scaring a freshman who hadn't even had a set of college finals yet.