Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 03 - Valentined (4 page)

“Oh, I doubt that,” said Essie, embarrassed.  “Actually,
Miss Barber, I was wondering if I might ask you a question.”

“Of course.”

“I’d really like to pick your brain,” she began.

“Pick away,” said Sue, laughing.  “What do you need to
know?”

“It’s about valentines,” said Essie.

“Appropriate,” Sue said and nodded.  This turn in the
conversation seemed to get the other women at the table to stop their artwork
and look over at them.

“Yes,” said Essie.  “I received a valentine that I’d like
your professional opinion about.”  Essie reached over to her walker and lifted
the seat.  She handed the envelope to Sue.

“Oh, my!” declared Sue as Essie placed the card in her
hands.  “What’s this?”

“Just look at it,” Essie encouraged, “and tell me everything
you can about it.”

Sue’s face revealed her puzzlement.  Even so, with a slight
smile, she gently opened the envelope and carefully removed the card inside. 
By now, not only were the three women at Essie’s table totally focused on what
was happening, other residents at other tables had stopped their artistic
endeavors and were watching Sue Barber open Essie’s card.

Sue stared at the front of Essie’s valentine.  She carefully
opened the card and perused the inside poem and signature.  Then, she turned it
over and read the back.  She turned the card back to the front.

“This is quite a card, Essie!” she said with almost a
whistle.  “And a secret admirer!  You are some lady!”  As soon as Sue said the
words ‘secret admirer’ all the women at Essie’s table gasped.  Donna and Velma
repeated the phrase and soon the words ‘secret admirer’ echoed throughout the
rec room.

“No, no!” said Essie to Sue, “what I need to know is what
can you tell me about the construction of this card?  How was it manufactured? 
You’re the resident art expert here and I was hoping you might enlighten me
about the card itself.  Anything you can tell me I would appreciate.”

“Why, Essie, if you don’t mind my asking, why do you need to
know about how the card was created or manufactured?  I would just be thrilled
to get such a beautiful card—and from a secret admirer.  Do you have any idea
who it is?”  Sue beamed with excitement.

“No,” said Essie, “and I thought maybe you could help me
figure out who it is if you could tell me something—anything—about the card
itself.”

“Oh, I see,” said Sue with a nod.  She looked around at the
other women at the table.  They were waiting for her response—as were
apparently many others in the rec room—with baited breath.   “I guess I’d
better come up with something then.”  She laughed and smiled at Essie and the
other women, and returned to her intense perusal of the card.

“Essie has a secret admirer!” called a man from a nearby
table.  Essie scowled at him.  Her response was greeted with a few cat calls
from several other men in the room, but they were quickly hushed by a chorus of
women throughout the rec room who piped in about how romantic it was. 

“I don’t really know, Essie,” said Sue finally.  “There’s
not a lot to tell you about this card.  It’s well made, beautifully made,
actually.  In fact, I’d say the workmanship is far more precise than your
typical store-bought greeting card.  Most cards these days are mass-produced
and don’t have so much detail to them.  I mean, just the front.  Look at the
doily and the delicate ribbon that is woven around the edge.  That would take a
lot of effort.  Also, the stuffed heart in the center.  You just don’t see
cards with little sachets like that anymore.”

“Do you mean, Miss Barber,” asked Essie, “that this card is
an old card that someone just happened to have lying around and sent me?”

“I don’t know, Essie,” said Sue.  “That’s possible.  They
did make fancy cards like this years ago when people put more stock in sending
really beautiful valentines.  I remember my grandmother received a similar valentine
from my grandfather once.  She kept it for years.  It had a little heart like
this one too.  It was actually a sachet that could be removed and used to
perfume drawers where you kept sweaters.  I remember my grandmother told me she
had taken off the little heart and kept it in her intimates drawer—that’s what
she called her underwear drawer—for many years.”

“Do you think the heart on this card is one of those
sachets?” asked Essie.

“I don’t know,” said Sue.  She held the front of the card up
to her nose and sniffed.  “It doesn’t smell like it has any perfume or talcum
powder in it, so I’d guess not.  You can try to remove it and use it in a
drawer if you like though.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll do that,” said Essie with a sigh. 
“I really just want to know who sent it to me.  It’s a mystery…and…”

“And Essie likes mysteries!” called out the gentleman who
had earlier made the crack about Essie’s secret admirer.  Sue looked over at
the man and gave him an admonishing glare and he quickly resumed work on his
card. 

“I guess that’s all I can offer you, Essie,” said Sue with
finality as she handed the card back.  “It is a curious situation.  If you
don’t know who this person is, I don’t know how you can find out who he is just
by finding out more about the card.  I wish you could.  And I wish I could help
you.”

“That’s okay, Miss Barber,” replied Essie.  “You’ve actually
been very helpful.”  Essie said good-bye to her table companions and headed
back to her apartment.

Chapter Five

“To love is to receive a glimpse of
heaven”

—Karen Sunde

Back in her room, Essie was sitting in her recliner mulling
over the information she had acquired from Sue Barber at the arts and crafts
class.  Not much, she realized.  Sue had been impressed with the workmanship of
the card, but other than that and the fact that she thought the little heart
might contain some sort of sachet, Essie hadn’t learned much in her trip up to
the second floor.  As she stared at the card, she thought of someone else who
might be able to provide her with some pertinent information about the greeting
card.

Grabbing her telephone from the end table to her right, she
tapped in the numbers for her oldest daughter, Prudence.  Pru answered on the
first ring, which was typical. 

“Hello.”

“Pru?  It’s your mother.”

“Oh, Mom!  Hi!  Is something wrong?”  Essie smiled to
herself.  It was so like her eldest to immediately assume the worst when
receiving a phone call from her mother. 

“I’d really like to speak with Mindy, dear, if she’s
there.”  Pru’s adult daughter Mindy lived at home with her parents while
attempting to jump-start her career.  The economy had taken a toll on the young
woman whose college degree in graphic design wasn’t in great demand in
Reardon. 

“Mindy? Well, yes, she’s here, Mom.  She’s getting ready for
work.  I’ll get her.”  Work was a part-time job at a local boutique.  Mindy
created ads and brochures, and designed the small company’s website.  Essie had
seen samples of her work and had been surprised and delighted by her
granddaughter’s talent.

After a few seconds, Mindy spoke.

“Hey, Grandma!  What’s up?”

“Mindy, dear,” began Essie, “I have a little problem that I
believe you might be able to help me with.”

“Me? Sure, Grandma,” replied Mindy with a small laugh.  “I
can’t imagine that there’s anything I could do that Mom couldn’t though.”

“Oh, yes, dear,” said Essie.  “This is a problem in graphic
design.”

“Really?” exclaimed Mindy.  “What are you making, Grandma?”

“Oh, dear, I’m not making anything,” explained Essie.  “I
have something here that I’d like you to take a look at and tell me what you
can about how it was made…or designed.”

“You mean like an advertisement?” asked Mindy, her curiosity
obviously piqued.

“No, dear.  This is a greeting card.  A valentine to be
exact.”

“A valentine?” cried Mindy.  “One you received?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” said Essie.  “There are some
very unusual things about it.  I’d really like you to take a look at it.  Do
you think you might be able to drop by Happy Haven and do that?”

“Sure, Grandma,” said Mindy.  “Tell you what, I’m almost
ready to leave for work, but Happy Haven is right on my way.  If I leave now, I
can drop by your place in a few minutes and check out your mysterious card
before I head off to work.  How’s that?”

“That would be wonderful, dear!”

“Okay, I’m out the door!”

Essie hung up the phone, totally gratified that she would
not only get Mindy’s expert opinion on the mysterious valentine, but also that
she’d have a chance to speak with her quiet young granddaughter alone and away
from the often overbearing force of her mother.  Essie made a quick bathroom
trip as a precaution.  She didn’t want to be interrupted during Mindy’s visit
with the need to visit her facilities.

True to her word, Mindy arrived, breathless, about fifteen
minutes later.  Pru and her husband didn’t live all that far away—a fact that
provided constant security to Essie.  Mindy tapped lightly on Essie’s front
door and then stuck her head in.

“Grandma?” she called out quietly.

“Come in, dear,” said Essie, now back in her recliner, the
card in question on her lap.

Mindy entered.  She quickly removed her winter hat and
jacket and came over to Essie, sitting on the desk chair that she moved over
beside Essie’s recliner.  Mindy was a slight young woman with delicate features
and long, loose strawberry blonde hair.  She had a gentle smile on her face.

“It’s so good to see you, Mindy,” said Essie warmly.

“You too, Grandma,” replied Mindy, giving her grandmother a
short kiss on the top of her head.  “How are you doing?”

“Physically, just fine, my dear,” replied Essie, “but
mentally I’m stumped.  I hope you can help.”

“I’ll sure try.”

“Look here,” said Essie, holding up the valentine, now out
of its envelope.  “I received this in the mail.”  With a puzzled look, Mindy
took the card.  She studied the front, then opened the card and read the
inside.  Finally, she turned the card over and looked at the back.  “Our
activities director, Sue Barber, looked at it and said it was extremely well
made.  She thought the little heart in the center might be a sachet.  You know,
with perfume inside.”

“Hmm,” said Mindy, furrowing her brow as she studied the
card.  “It’s very fancy.  And what’s this about a secret admirer?  I take it
you don’t know who sent it?”

“No, dear,” said Essie, “I have no idea who sent it.  The
postmark says Boston and I can’t think of anyone I know who lives there.”

“It’s very romantic, Grandma,” said Mindy looking directly
at Essie.  “Wow!  I mean…it’s pretty neat to have some guy send you something
like this at…I mean…”

“You mean at my age?” asked Essie.  “Oh, it’s all right,
dear.  I long ago gave up any aspirations of having men ply me with romantic
missives.”  Mindy chuckled. 

“I don’t see why not, Grandma,” she said.  “You’re a neat
lady.”

“Thank you, Mindy, but I’ve only given my heart to one man
in my life and that was your grandfather.”

“I understand, Grandma,” said Mindy.  “Grandpa John was a
super guy.  I can understand why you loved him.  He was always really nice to
me.”

“He loved you a lot, my dear,” said Essie warmly as the two
women sat next to each other, their arms touching as they stared at the flowery
card.  “But, anyway, that’s not why I asked you here.  I asked you because I
know how talented a designer you are.  I hope you might be able to tell me
something about this card—how it was made, constructed, where, anything about
the materials used.  Just anything you can.  I’m trying to figure out who sent
it to me and I believe that the more I know about the card itself the better
chance I stand of figuring out something about the man who sent it.”

“I don’t know that I can tell you much, Grandma,” said Mindy
tentatively, “but there are some things that jump out at me when I first look
at it.”

“Like what?”

“First, it was definitely made by an artist, probably a
professional graphic designer like myself.  I can tell by the designer’s use of
font, placement, color—oh, just a number of elements that suggest it is
professionally done.   However, I don’t think this professional designer
created this valentine for the Boston Bell Greeting Card Company.”  Mindy
turned the card over and read the name of the company from the back of the
card.

“Why do you say that, dear?”

“Grandma,” she said, “the logo for the company on the back
of the card would seem to indicate that it was manufactured by this company. 
But, I don’t think so.  I think this designer made this card specifically to
send to you and not to be sold in stores. Do you have any other greeting cards
around here?”  She turned back to the desk and glanced around.

“I do,” said Essie.  “Look under that pile of papers in the
upper right hand corner.  There are several greeting cards I got for Christmas
that I just haven’t thrown away.  Is that what you mean?”

“Yes,” said Mindy, fumbling around in the pile for one of
the old Christmas cards.  She found one and brought it out.  Turning the card
over, she showed Essie the back.  “Look at this Christmas card.  It was
obviously purchased in a store.  What do you see on the back?”

“I see a logo just like on the valentine,” said Essie,
pulling down her glasses and squinting at the markings on the back of the
card.  “Then there’s this square full of lines.  I don’t see that on the
valentine.”

“That’s the UPC…the bar code,” said Mindy.  “There’s no
bar code on your secret admirer valentine like there is on this Christmas card
or on any other card you might receive that was purchased in a store.  This bar
code is on everything purchased in a store because it’s what the clerk uses to
determine how much to charge for the item when you buy it.  See, your valentine
doesn’t have a bar code.  That means that it wasn’t purchased in a store.  I
would venture a guess that it was made and sent to you directly by the person
who made it.  Very unusual.”