“Hello...” she said. “Cappy?”
I said I was. She was the prettiest little thing, dark-haired, with her face all lit up with the flowers.
“Ray said you’d be coming up today. Come in, and we’ll talk.” She led the way into the kitchen. It was the biggest one I ever saw, all white tile and machinery. She sat me down at the table and gave me a cup of coffee.
“Mr. Prestwick will be back soon. Was it a hard walk?” I knew then that she had seen me coming up the street.
“No, ma’am,” I said. “I was watching the pretty day.”
“So was I,” she said. “That’s how I saw you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“Come on out. I’ll show you around.”
We went outside again, and walked around the grounds. Everything looked pretty good except some of the trees needed pruning back and the oleander bushes on one side were choking for space. The grass was nice and healthy, with the spring of good turf under it.
“We just got this place,” she said. “The old owner took the gardener away with him. That’s why we need you.”
“I’ve never done this kind of work before, ma’am. I hope I’ll satisfy.”
“Mr. Froken told me you were a farm boy. If we get stuck, we’ll get a book.”
“Mr. Froken?” I said. “You know him, ma’am?”
“Mr. Froken is my husband’s agent. He’s a good friend. That’s how we heard about you.”
“I’ll bet that’s why Mr. Froken used to ask me about Seneca. And all those other things.”
Then she took me back to the pool. There was a shed there with enough mowers and edgers and seeders and things to open a store.
“I think you’ll find everything you’ll need here, Cappy. If there’s anything else, just let me know.”
“We could put in a stand of alfalfa with this, ma’am.” I told her. She laughed like a little girl.
“Your room’s over the garage,” she said.
I must have looked surprised.
“Didn’t he tell you?” she said. “Mr. Prestwick expected you to stay here. We’re away a lot. We want a hand on the place.”
I just listened, marveling at the way things happened.
After we looked around a little more, she showed me my room. There was a bed and a dresser and two chairs, even a television in the corner. It even had its own bathroom.
“I’ll try to keep it neat, ma’am,” I said.
She looked at me for a moment, a funny expression in her eyes.
“You do that, Cappy,” she said finally. “You do that.”
I moved my stuff in the next day, after church, and started on the yard. I had an itch to prune those trees and was up in one of them when Mr. Prestwick came out. I climbed down, and said good morning.
“Everything all right, Cappy?” he said.
I said everything was just fine.
“You’ll find lunch in the kitchen at one o’clock,” he said. “The cook’s name is Rosa. Stay on her good side. She’s a terror.”
I didn’t have any trouble with her. She was a fat Italian lady who really set a table. I didn’t talk much to her at first, just stayed polite and enjoyed the food, which seemed to please her. After a few days we got to be pretty good friends, and sometimes when the Prestwicks were out we used to talk and she would tell me about the Old Country and how she lived in Italy when she was a girl. We were both farm raised so I guess that helped.
It took a while to get the yard and house the way I liked it, all clipped and roomy with the flowers healthy and bright. I put in a new piece of grass in the back and made a little sitting place like a rock garden back of the pool. It was a pretty place, looking out over the tops of the hills. Mrs. Emma, that’s what Rosa told me to call Mrs. Prestwick, liked to sit there when she read a book.
It was a strange time. I didn’t have a car, except Mr. Prestwick said I could borrow one when I had an errand or something I wanted to do, but, even so, at first I didn’t leave the place much. Once in a while, Mrs. Emma would talk to me when I was in the yard, or Mr. Prestwick would ask for something, and I would get it for him in the car. Then I started driving Rosa around when she wanted to go somewhere, or taking Mr. Prestwick to the studio when he was working. He didn’t like driving and I did, so that made it nice. I’ll say one thing. That yard shone. Even my Pop would have liked it.
Time sort of slipped by. Then one day I was clipping the hedge and turned around and Mr. Froken was standing there. He held out a hand to me, that little smile of his on his face again.
“I forgot to send the shoes, Cappy,” he said.
“Mr. Froken,” I said. “Am I glad to see you!”
“You’re doing a fine job, Cappy,” Mr. Froken said. “The Prestwicks couldn’t do without you.”
Somehow, hearing him tell it was better than anything I heard in my life. I couldn’t stop smiling. Like a fool, I couldn’t say much.
“I hope you’re happy here.”
“It’s a wonderful place,” I said.
He turned to go into the house.
“Mr. Froken,” I said.
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” I said.
“That’s all right, Cappy,” he said. “An active agent has to look after the welfare of his clients.”
I picked a big bunch of flowers and put them in his car.
Just before Christmas was a big and exciting time at the house, all kinds of people coming and going, Mr. Froken in and out, Rosa and I so busy we didn’t have time to think about anything, which was just as well for me. Christmas used to be pretty good at our house, even after Ma died and there was only Pop and me. When I thought about it I got pretty low, so it was better to be busy.
Christmas Day was another high time. The house was full of people, we had some extra help in to serve, and I took care of the cars and helped with the drinks, except for Mr. Prestwick, who only drank coffee. Rosa and I started at six in the morning to get ready so when the last of the people left we were pretty tired, sitting in the kitchen with coffee when Mr. Prestwick came out. He said Merry Christmas to us both and gave us each a hundred dollar check. Old Rosa gave him an Italian hug and I shook hands. Then I went to my room. On the dresser was a little Christmas tree, all covered with spangles. Under it was a package. I opened it. It was a wallet, the most beautiful leather I ever saw. Across the front of it was my name in golden letters, “Cappy Fleers”... in gold letters. I just looked at it and at the card. It was from Mrs. Emma, who wrote “Love from the Prestwicks” on it. Next to it was a scarf from Rosa. I sat on the bed, holding the presents in my hands for a long time. Then I noticed something else. On the dresser was another box. In it was a watch, a gold watch, with a gold band on it. My name was on that too, on the back. It said “Cappy Fleers with the affection and admiration of Danny Froken.” Well, I was overcome.
After that, Mrs. Emma decided that I’d better go to school nights, two or three times a week, so I did, the Adult Education course at the high school. I enjoyed it, especially the English. I read a lot of books. Mrs. Emma used to pick some new ones up for me when she went shopping, then when I saw her in the yard she’d talk with me about them.
I met a girl at the school. Mrs. Emma deviled me a little about it, till I asked Norma, that was her name, to go to the movies with me. She wasn’t a very pretty girl but I liked her a lot. She was kind of quiet, like Mrs. Emma, and fun to be with. We had some good times together.
All this time, I took care of the house and yard, and drove Mr. Prestwick to and from his work. I used to drive him down in the morning and go and get him in the afternoon. The fellows on the gate at the studio got to know me, and used to wave me right in when I drove up, and let me park the car right outside the studio door where Mr. Prestwick was working. Sometimes I’d go in and watch the picture being made, and once in a while Mr. Froken would be there and he’d smile that funny smile of his and I’d look at the time where he could see me, so that he could see that I was wearing his watch. It was a little game with us. Mr. Froken was getting old. Each time I saw him he seemed to shrink a little. You could almost see the bones under the skin of his face, he was so thin. I talked to Mrs. Emma about it. She said that Mr. Froken wasn’t very well. She said maybe the layers were peeling off a little so that the kindness and integrity were beginning to show through. Mrs. Emma worried me, she was so sad. Not only about that, but about the trouble that began with Mr. Prestwick.