A Lovely Warm Autumn Day
M E M P H I S, T E N N E S S E E
“I’m so proud of her. Who would have actually thought she’d have the courage to do it?” Virginia said.
Mary Jule piped up from the backseat. “I couldn’t do it. No way.”
“Personally, I think I could. But we’re not talking about me,” said Alice, who was sitting in the passenger seat of Virginia’s car. “Let’s get down to Agency business. Mary Jule,” she said, turning around to face her, “did you sneak into Leelee’s address book?”
“Yes, I did. No address, only a phone number.”
“No address? That’s odd, how are we gonna find it?”
“We can call Roberta,” Virginia said. “Who knows her last name?”
“I don’t remember. Do you, Alice?” Mary Jule asked.
“Heck no.”
“How about Jeb? What’s his last name?” Virginia asked.
The other two shrugged.
“Don’t tell me we’ve hit a dead end.”
“I’ve got it!” Alice squealed. “Mary Jule, what’s his phone number?”
“You’re not gonna call him, are you?”
“Just give me the phone number and watch the master at work.”
“I don’t know about this but, okay: 802-555-9998.”
“Thank you very much, may I have total quiet, please?” Alice pulled out a Virginia Slim, cracked the window, and took a puff before punching in the numbers. “I did a star-sixty-seven, just in case.” Alice put a finger to her lips. “Shhh, it’s ringing. Still ringing. Hi-eee,” she said in her best Yankee voice, “is this Sam?”
“You’ve got the wrong number.”
Alice held the phone out from her ear so Virginia and Mary Jule, who were huddled toward the phone, could hear every word. “This isn’t Sam Owen?”
“Nope. You’ve got the right last name, but my first name’s not Sam.”
“Oh, well. That operator must have given me the wrong Owen. I’m looking for my old college boyfriend. He lives in Vermont on Acklen Road and I’m desperate to find him. Do you have a cousin named Sam Owen?”
“No, I don’t have a cousin named Sam.”
“Is your middle name Sam?”
“No, Sam isn’t my middle name.”
“Are you sure you’re not pulling my leg? Sam, this really is you, isn’t it?” Alice pinched her two fingers together and glided her hand through the air, pretending to be writing. Mary Jule quickly dug in her purse and handed her a pen.
“It’s not Sam,” he said with a chuckle. “And I’m not your old boyfriend. What’s your name anyway?”
“Shauna.”
“Nice to meet you, Shauna.”
“You too, Sam, I mean, whatever your name is.”
“Peter.”
“Okay, nice to meet you, Peter. Listen, would you please do me a favor?”
“I’ll try.”
“If you ever meet Sam Owen up there, will you tell him I’m trying to find him?”
“You bet.”
“Thanks. Hey, what’s your address? Maybe I’ll send Sam a letter in care of you.”
“It’s 415 Forrest Drive, but I doubt I’ll ever meet him.”
“In Willingham?”
“No, Dover.”
“And that zip?”
“05356.”
“Alrighty then. Thanks, Peter Owen. Good talking to you and have a greet day.” When she got to the day part she accidentally lost her accent. She recovered, though, when she said good-bye. “Byeeee.” She closed her cell phone and blew two smoke rings. “And that’s how it’s done.”
“I gotta say. You never cease to amaze me,” Virginia told her.
“All in a day’s work of a good detective at the Gladys Kravitz Agency. I can’t believe we actually caught him at home. What are the odds of that?”
“Oooooh, I’m getting excited,” squealed Mary Jule.
“Who’s got the letter?” Alice asked.
“It’s in my purse,” said Virginia.
Alice ruffled through Virginia’s pocketbook and opened the unsealed envelope. She took out the newspaper clipping, which had one of the want ads circled with a black Sharpie, and read aloud:
CHEF NEEDED Peach Blossom Inn—small, gourmet restaurant in mint condition. Must have nice attitude, pleasing personality, GOOD HYGIENE, and expertise in classic and nouvelle cuisine. Historic Germantown, 462 Old Poplar Pike, Memphis, Tennessee 38108. Call 901-555-8912 or apply in person.
“Leelee’s left us no choice but to take matters into our own hands, and we’re all in agreement, right?” After nods from the other two, Alice folded up the ad and stuck it back inside the envelope. She gave it a lick and under Peter Owen’s name she copied down his address.
“Here’s a stamp,” Mary Jule said, leaning over the front seat. “I’ve only got a love stamp. Do y’all think that’s too obvious?”
“So what if it is?” With a quick lick, Alice placed the stamp on the letter and handed the envelope to Virginia.
They pulled into the post office and got in line for the drop box. Virginia rolled down the window and reached out to place the letter on the edge of the mail slot. “Okay. It’s worth a shot.”
She gently let go of the envelope and let it slide down, deep into the mailbox.