“Yeah?” Jasper appeared at her side as if by magic.
“Yeah.” Roman gestured for him to get in. “If we get a real call, I’ll know and meet you there,” he told Frankie as he started the engine.
“Yes, sir.” Darn it, she thought as she turned back to her brother. She should have told Jasper to take pictures.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“ANY DETAILS YOU want to give me on the Cocoon Club?” Roman estimated the trip to Senior Central, as he’d learned the house was called, would only take a few minutes. “Frankie’s given me the basic background, I think.”
Jasper shifted back in the passenger seat, shoved his hair out of his eyes. “My mom says they’re worse than a group of aimless teenagers.”
“How so?”
“Always getting into trouble. Testing boundaries.”
“Or maybe they like the attention,” Roman offered. Older folks, even when part of a group, tended to have more issues with loneliness and depression than other demographics. He’d gotten his share of calls, especially in Florida, regarding locks that didn’t work or a cat that got out. Leaky roofs were a big one, too. Now that he thought about it, the calls from the Cocoon Club weren’t that much different. Just better organized. And more entertaining.
“Attention like before Thanksgiving when they called for a ride home from the grocery store?”
Roman winced. “You heard about that?”
Jasper looked at him. “Everyone knows about that. Sir.”
“What are people saying?”
“Mostly they just roll their eyes and say it’s typical of them. No one minds, really, about their calls and shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans?” Roman couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard that word used.
“That’s what my mom calls it. They’re all kinds of comic relief for us. What are they up to now? Who’s moving into the house, that kind of stuff.”
“Remind me who is who again?” A refresher course was definitely in order.
“There’s Myra, who used to be a hairdresser and only retired a few years ago when the business closed. Delilah, who worked in advertising. Alice is Abby’s grandmother, and she used to run the Flutterby. Marty and Harold are both vets, but you can always tell who Marty is because he wears something related to the marines.” Jasper counted them off on his fingers. “Clyde was the town pharmacist, Lorna was a sec—sorry, administrative assistant.”
Roman grinned at the political correctness catch.
“Eloise worked at the bank before it went under and then Penny. I’m not sure what she used to do. Her sister Polly, who’s only three years younger, lives on her own over near Skipper Park. I overheard Marty telling Harold one time Polly used to be a pinup girl like some lady in the war. Betty Grable?” Jasper frowned. “I’ve never heard of her.”
“Then your movie education is sorely lacking,” Roman said, suddenly in the mood for a classics marathon. “That’s nine. Aren’t there ten?”
“Right. Oscar. Mr. Bedemeyer’s a kick,” Jasper said. “He snuck into the army when he was sixteen so he could fight in WWII. Used his older brother’s ID. He used to come to the school to talk about his experiences and what it was like back then. He’s walking history.”
“Used to? He doesn’t come in anymore?”
“I don’t know that he’s been asked lately. The high school got a new history teacher a few years back. Mr. Bedemeyer likely got lost in the changeover. Mostly all the antics they get up to are because they’re trying to keep busy. They do a lot of stuff around town, organizing events and fund-raisers, but not as much as they used to. None of them drive anymore.” Jasper eyed him. “Public safety, according to Luke.”
“Frankie acted like she was expecting this call. She seems to know how to deal with them.”
“She doesn’t treat them like they’re old. She grew up here, so she’s known them all her life.”
“Is that your way of saying I should tread carefully?”
“I’d never say that, sir.” But Jasper flashed a grin before he looked out his window. “But there were times even Chief Granger said they were the bane of his existence. He was happy to let Frankie handle their calls. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like he was afraid of them or anything. Just...”
“It was just Frankie is better with them. Don’t worry. I get it.” It had been easy in a big city to keep responses impersonal. Arrive, deal with the situation, move on to the next call. The learning curve here was steep and definitive: you’d help people you would see every day and know what was happening in their lives, whether it was hearing that Oliver Hideman was finally back home with his daughter and grandchildren in time to celebrate the holidays, or making sure Shirley and Amelia had a nice Christmas despite their recent troubles, or running into Delilah and Penny at the grocery store and enduring another photo session. He’d been quick to tell Frankie their calls were about the people, but he hadn’t bothered to take his own words to heart. Until now.