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City.” Pride over came her.
    “You must be proud.” Sam hated lawyers. They were always telling him what to do, what was in the best interest of his career.
    Hazel stood up, and laid the card next to the tea. “Where are my manners? Let me get you a glass of tea.”
    “No thank you.” Sam really wanted to say yes. “I’ve got more flowers to deliver.”
    “Um, hmm. I heard from Mamie how you took over for Marty. That job was killing him.” Hazel shouted through the screen door.
    Sam didn’t know whether to leave or listen to her yelling from inside her house.
    “Here ya go.” Hazel handed Sam a plastic cup filled with sweet tea. “You have to take it. If you don’t, superstition has it that you’ll have bad luck.”
    Sam’s eyebrow raised in amused contempt. “What?”
    “If someone offers you something from their home, you take it or you will have bad luck.” Hazel’s voice was stern. She wasn’t joking.
    “Okay.” Sam took the cup. “Have a nice day.”
    “Oh, they are from the city council.” Sam turned to watch Hazel open her card. “Some big wig company wants to come in here and build an outlet mall on my property. Can you imagine that?” She twirled her finger in the air, outlining her yard. “This is a working farm, not a shopping ground.”
    “Sorry to hear that.” Sam wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say.
    “You know, Celia Briggs is single.” Hazel hollered just as Sam trotted down her porch steps.
    “I’m just the delivery boy.” Sam waved bye.
    There was no denying that Celia Briggs was a beautiful woman. Sam wasn’t in the market.
    “I see.” Clara peered at him with a leering eye. “Thank you for the flowers. It really made my day.”
    “Oh, and if you need a hair-cut, go see my other granddaughter down at The Hair Pin.” Hazel continued to yell. “Ask for Belle Greenlee.”
    Sam walked back to his car wondering if Hazel Greenlee was related to the Greenlee’s of Greenlee’s Hardware, but he wasn’t about to ask.
    Plus Sam hadn’t thought about Bianca in a couple hours. That was the longest length of time since her death he hadn’t replayed a memory he had of her.
    The last delivery in Wilmore was further than he anticipated. The 88’ Chevy crept along the windy road. The Veterans Home sat overlooking the mountains. It reminded Sam of a movie backdrop. Growing up in a single parent home in LA, he was well traveled to exotic parts of the world, but never his own homeland.
    The drive way to the Veterans Home was lined on both sides with tall oaks that must’ve been hundreds of years old. Sam drove slowly underneath the canvas of fall colors. Another first. LA doesn’t get the changing of the seasons and coloring of the leaves. The reds, oranges, yellows, brown and greens were like a real life painting.
    He followed the visitor’s signs and pulled up to the front. He wasn’t about to park in the parking lot and walk.
    Sam didn’t know the protocol for delivering flowers. He hoped it wasn’t an old woman that smelled. His mother used to tell him, “Please don’t put me in a home for the nearly dead.” Sam used to laugh at her because her worst fear was going crazy.
    “Can I help you?” The receptionist could tell Sam was lost. The inside wasn’t nearly what he expected. The interior was like a resort. It had a couple waterfalls with big leather chairs. An open café style restaurant with café seating and sky lights added just the touch to make it feel like a spa. Only it was filled with older people talking, drinking coffee and laughing.
    “I am at the right place, right?” Sam showed the receptionist the card.
    “Yes. You will find his room down the west hall.” The receptionist pointed, “Mr. Donahue isn’t an early riser so he likes to watch the sun set over the mountains. I have to admit it is beautiful.”
    Sam didn’t strike up any conversation. He found it odd that people just started talking, telling you their life story. He did what