Autumn Rose

Author's Note: Although rating are nice, nothing beats a comment or two about what you liked or disliked about a story. Please take a moment to leave or send one. Thank you.

October 1981

"McCord, get your ass in here, now!" the booming voice of James McGuire echoed from the rear storage room, reaching out to the public areas of the Shamrock Bar & Grill.

The dark haired twenty-year-old wiping down the top of the bar froze at the sound, his head automatically tilting in the direction the summons had come from. Few things put fear into the heart of Danny McCord, but near the top of the shortlist was the sixty-five-year-old owner of the Shamrock when he was in a bad mood.

Dropping the small towel that he'd been using into the cleaning bucket under the bar, Danny quickly made his way down the length of the countertop, then through the kitchen and finally into the storage room beyond. There he saw the object of his concern standing over a stack of open cardboard boxes, the expression on his face not a happy one.

"Is something wrong, Mr. McGuire?" Danny asked as he glanced into one of the open boxes but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"You might say that," the grizzled older man said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but did I, or did I not, ask you to call in the supply order to Ferguson's on Monday?"

"Yes sir, Mr. McGuire, and I did as you asked," Danny replied, a touch of caution in his tone.

"Okay, so now that we've established that," the balding senior noted, "can you explain, in the name of all that's holy, why you ordered five thousand sets of plastic kitchen utensils?"

"Because that was what you wrote on the order pad," Danny replied.

"No, I ordered five hundred," the owner said, "more than enough for a month. Why would I order ten times that?"

"I hate to contradict you, Mr. McGuire," but it did say five thousand," Danny insisted. "I did think that it was a lot, but when the man from Ferguson's said that entitled you to a bulk discount, I figured you just wanted to save a little money by ordering more."

Glancing down at the invoice, James saw that the price per unit was indeed less than he normally paid. Still, it irked him that his instructions hadn't been followed.

"If you thought the order was excessive, why didn't you confirm it with me?" he asked, unable to simply let it go.

"Because the last time I did, you said that you weren't paying me to think, and if I couldn't follow simple instructions, you'd fire me and find someone who could," Danny offered.

James had indeed said that, but it wasn't in his nature to admit error. The smart thing for Danny to have done would've been to simply say he'd made a mistake and that would've been that. But taking the blame for something he didn't do wasn't in his nature either.

Yet, at the same time, he was questioning if he could've made a mistake. Thinking back to Monday afternoon, he remembered that while he'd been waiting on hold for Ferguson's order clerk, he'd struck up a conversation with Tara O'Halloran, one of the night waitresses, who had stopped by to pick up her check, having been off the previous Friday.

Danny had been trying to get Tara to go out with him since he'd first started working at the Shamrock, three months ago. But she had consistently turned him down, Monday having been no exception. Even so, Tara had been dressed in such a tight outfit that afternoon that he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of her -- not even when the order rep finally came back on the line.

'Could I have read it wrong?' he asked himself, then brushed away the thought because, if he'd hadn't seen the number, he wouldn't have thought it excessive.

"Do you still have the sheet from the order pad?" James asked him, making it clear that he wasn't going to let the matter drop.

"No, I put it on Mrs. McGuire's desk when I was done," Danny answered, adding that was what he was supposed to do with it.

Katherine Rose McGuire, known more commonly as simply Rose, was James McGuire's sister-in-law. The widow of his younger brother, Keith. He'd given her a job doing the bar's books when Keith had died ten years before. He'd initially done so out of a sense of family obligation, but soon learned that despite what else he might have thought of her, she turned out to be one hell of a bookkeeper. She'd straightened out his finances and helped make what had been a barely successful business into one that increased its profits by a third in only a few years.

"Well then, since Rose saves every scrap of paper anyone gives her, I've no doubt that she still has that as well," James said. "So, why don't we just go and take a look at it? And I promise you this, Danny Boy, if it doesn't say five thousand, you'll be looking for a new job come the morrow."

'Fuck!' Danny thought, no longer as sure as he'd been a few minutes before of what he'd read. 'I can't afford to lose this job.'

The Shamrock wasn't the only restaurant in the area that Rose did the books for, as she had built up a nice little business for herself since turning the bar around. As it happened, she wasn't in the small office when James dragged Danny into it. Checking her calendar on the wall, he saw that she would be in today after three o'clock.

James considered going through her files to find the supply order himself, but then remembered the last time he'd ventured into her domain and the verbal trashing she'd given him. So he turned to Danny and said that he'd gotten a three-hour reprieve.

"Now get your ass back to work," he added in a voice no less thunderous than he'd used to call Danny from two rooms away.

-=-=-=-

Three hours and ten minutes later, Rose McGuire walked through the front door of the Shamrock, causing more than one patron to turn in her direction. Five six and a hundred and thirty pounds, with short red hair cut an inch above her shoulders, the sixty-three-year-old projected an aura of confidence that women half her age envied. Most men, however, found it intimidating, which was one of the reasons she hadn't remarried, despite having retained much of her looks.

James McGuire could never understand what his brother saw in Rose in the first place. She'd been a forty-year-old widow when they first met, her first husband having been killed in the Pacific during the war and was four years older than Keith. The younger McGuire had never been great with the ladies, James acknowledged, but he still thought he could've done better. That he'd still been unmarried at thirty-six, however, might have said different.

James gave her a few minutes to settle in at her desk, then once more corralled Danny and hauled him into the office. He quickly explained the situation, including the fact that Danny's job was riding on what the original order form said.

"You can't be serious," Rose said as he finished. "You're actually going to fire him if he read your scribbly handwriting wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong with my handwriting," James countered. "The kid cost me money; I don't take that lightly."

"Money that you'll make up over the next few months since you won't have to order utensils," Rose pointed out. "In fact, since you got the order at a discount, you might look at it as Danny saving you some money. Buying in bulk is more cost effective, as I've tried to tell you many times."

"I like things ordered the way I've always ordered them," James insisted. "And right now, I care about the bottom line this month, not the next two."

Rose slowly shook her head, as she couldn't believe that James was being so thick headed. Then, another idea popped into her head.

"Well, you could always offer part of the order to Balducci's and Callahan's," Rose suggested, referencing two of the other restaurants in the area that she did work for. "I know neither has put in their monthly supply orders yet."

"Why would one of them want to help me out?" James asked.

'Certainly not because of your sparkling personality,' Rose thought, but didn't say. "Because you'd pass along the same discount that Ferguson's gave you," Rose explained. "That way, everyone wins."

As James thought it over, Rose considered that the ordering error, whoever had made it, could actually be a blessing in disguise. She'd been trying to convince several of her clients that if they formed a small cooperative and ordered all their supplies as one, they'd get better deals. This could be a small but practical demonstration.

"That might not be a bad idea," James finally said, even as he considered that if he offered them a bit less than the same discount, they'd still save money, but he'd save even more.

"So, why don't we just forget about this and I'll call and see which one of them might be interested?" Rose said, hoping the matter had been put to rest.

"Oh no," James said, his earlier ire returning, "I promised that I'd fire this kid if he'd screwed up the order and that's what I'm going to do."

Again, Rose slightly shook her head, catching the look of concern on Danny's face as she did. Thinking she'd done all she could, she turned back to James and said he was the boss.

Rising from her chair, Rose stepped over to the old wooden filing cabinet and, after a few seconds of searching, pulled out a folder marked purchases. Laying it open on her desk, she located the pad sheet in question and carefully ran a finger down the column of numbers.

She took what seemed, to James at least, a long time studying the entry. He was about to say something when she finally looked back up at her brother-in-law.

"Well James, I think you owe this young man an apology," she said.

"What are you talking about?" James asked.

"Take a look for yourself," the redhead replied, turning the paper around and laying a finger next to the pertinent line, drawing attention as she did to the decimal comma after the five.

"Son of a bitch!" James exclaimed, having been certain that he'd been in the right.

"Now about that apology..." she said.

James turned and looked at Danny; the expression on his face saying that, even if he was wrong, the younger man wasn't about to get an apology. Instead, he turned and walked out of the room.

Danny really hadn't expected one, he'd worked for the old man long enough to know that it wasn't in his nature. Some people might wonder why he put up with his gruff, but the simple truth was, he actually liked this job. It paid well, better than most anything else he was qualified to do.

Once James had gone, Danny thanked Rose and turned to follow him out the door. He'd only gone a few steps when the redhead asked him to wait a moment.

"I want to show you something," she said, calling him back to her desk as she again pointed to the entry on the sheet for the plastic utensils.

"Five thousand," Danny read out loud.

"Not quite," Rose said as she lifted her finger off the paper, "count the number of zeroes."

Danny did so and his eyes widened when he saw that there were only two after the five, not three.

"Oh shit!" he said as he realized that she had earlier obscured that there wasn't a third zero with her finger.

"That's not a comma," Rose said, indicating the mark between the five and the first zero, "it's a pencil smudge."

On closer inspection, Danny saw that was just what it was.

"Be thankful that my brother-in-law is too vain to use his reading glasses," Rose added.

"Why did you say that it was?" Danny asked.

"Because there are times when James can be a real horse's ass," Rose replied, "and even if you did make a mistake on the order, which you did, the punishment hardly fitted the crime."

"I don't know what to say," the younger man professed.

"You don't have to say anything," Rose replied. "Just be more careful in the future."

"I promise," Danny said, raising his hand as if he was swearing on a bible. "I'll pay more attention in the future and keep my mind on one thing at a time."

Curious, Rose asked what he meant by that.

Danny was about to say nothing, but then decided that he owed the woman an honest answer. He explained that he'd been talking to Tara while he was on the phone with the supplier and had become a bit distracted.

"I guess distracting is one way to describe Tara," Rose said with a small laugh, picturing the twenty-one-year-old waitress in her mind. "How many times have you asked her out now?"

"Three, no four," Danny stated.

"Don't you think she's made it clear by now that she's not interested?" she offered.

"I keep hoping she'll change her mind," he replied.

Rose wanted to tell the young man that Tara was never going to change her mind, but felt it wasn't her place. As fine a lad as he was, Danny didn't have what it took to garner the young lady's interest. One of Rose's other clients ran an upscale restaurant, and twice she had seen Tara there with gentlemen at least a decade her senior. Neither was as handsome as Danny, but they certainly dressed better, and it was clear that when they asked a woman out, they weren't talking about pizza and a movie.

"I guess I'd better get back to work before Mr. McGuire finds something else to fire me for," Danny finally said, "but I really owe you. You saved my ass. If you ever need anything from me, and I mean anything, you just have to say the word."

As Danny turned and exited the office, Rose took notice of the way his jeans hugged the cheeks of his ass, thinking that it was an ass worth saving. She might have been a bit past her prime, she reminded herself, but still vital enough to have her juices stirred. Despite what her brother-in-law might think, widowhood hadn't dampened that part of her. Not now, or when she'd first met Keith.

-=-=-=-

Ten days later, on a Saturday morning, Rose was again in the Shamrock's office, finishing up the month end tallies. Normally she didn't work on weekends, but she had plans for the beginning of the week and wanted to get everything done before then. She'd already made the rounds of most of her other accounts and the Shamrock was her next to last stop.

"I thought you might like a cup of tea while you work," Danny said as he appeared at the open door of the office, a tray with the steaming beverage and a few pastries in his hands.

"That's quite kind of you," Rose said, gesturing with an outstretched hand as to where on the paper covered desk he could put the tray. "Thank you."

"Just showing my appreciation," Danny smiled as he put it down where she'd indicated. "Like I said, anything you need."

Rose took a moment to look at the contents of the tray, then turned her attention back to Danny. A half smile filled her face, but one mixed with a small measure of concern.

"Danny, I appreciate that you're grateful, but all the little things that you've been doing for me lately might not be a good idea," she offered. "It might cause James to wonder what you had to be so grateful about."

"I hadn't thought of that," Danny replied, his own face now also reflecting concern.

Rose actually doubted that James noticed how many times Danny had gone out of his way to greet her at the door, or offer to hang up her coat or carry her case into the office, but why tempt fate? In truth, she was the one who was becoming self-conscious about the attention. At five ten and a hundred seventy pounds, Danny was a quite handsome young man, and while James might be oblivious to his efforts, others might not be -- and she knew how people like to talk, especially in a bar.

"I just wanted to thank you," Danny said.

"And you have," Rose responded, again recalling how good it felt to wipe that smug look off James' face.

Hoping the matter was now settled, Rose reached for one of the small pastries and took a bite out of it.

"This is really delicious," she said. "Did these come from D'avanni's Bakery?"

"Yes, they made their delivery about a half hour ago," Danny said.

"Well, I certainly hope you don't expect me to eat both of these by myself," Rose said, looking down on the other pastry on the tray, "They're much too rich."

The invitation clear, Danny sat down in the chair in front of the desk and reached for the remaining treat. James didn't come in on Saturdays until noon, when the bar officially opened, so Danny could afford to take a little break. The next delivery, which was the reason he came in so early, wasn't for at least a half hour.

"Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, Danny?" Rose said after taking another bite. "You've been here all summer, and I don't think we've said more than a dozen words to each other before this week."

Danny seemed happy to do so, and over the next twenty minutes Rose learned a great deal about the young man, that he had been a high school athlete and even dated one of the most popular girls at school. That had ended, however, when she had gone away to college and he didn't as she didn't believe in long distance relationships. Since then, he had dated occasionally, but nothing long term. Back in school he had been a big man, but out here in the real world he'd found that, despite his positive attributes, he was now a small fish in a big pond.

"What are you reading?" Rose asked out of curiosity, picking up the well-worn paperback that Danny had taken out of his back pocket in order to sit down.

"Dune, by Frank Herbert," Danny replied as Rose picked up the book and looked, first at the cover illustration, then the blurb on the back page.

"Science Fiction?" she asked as she handed the book back to him.

Danny nodded his head.

"I never could get into things like that," Rose offered as she took a sip of her tea, "Robots, rocket ships, time travel ... it's all just too strange for me. Give me a good Sidney Sheldon novel any time."

Danny just smiled as he said not everyone likes to read the same things.

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply that there was anything wrong with it," she quickly countered. "My late husband loved science fiction. In fact, now that I think about it, I still have a box of his old books in the house. I probably should've cleaned them out long ago, but I keep forgetting about them. You know, if you really like that stuff, you can have them if you want."

"Are you sure?" Danny asked. "I mean, you said they were your husband's."

"They're just books, and if I ever got around to it, I'd probably donate them to the library, or toss them in the trash," Rose answered. "So again, they're yours if you want them."

"Thank you," Danny said as he finished off his own pastry.

"In fact, I'll probably be home by four, so if you want to stop by when you're done today, you can pick them up," Rose concluded.

"Today?" Danny asked.

"The sooner the better," Rose replied. "Otherwise I'll probably forget about them again for another ten years."

"Okay, I guess I could do that," Danny said, thinking that he really didn't have anything urgent planned after work anyway.

Just then, the buzzer on the delivery entrance sounded, announcing another delivery. Rose quickly jotted down her address on a small piece of paper and handed it to Danny, even as she turned her attention back to the monthly receipts.

-=-=-=-

Danny didn't wind up finishing his workday until a quarter after five, but it was only a ten-minute walk over to Evergreen Place, where Rose had moved after her husband's death. Standing in front of the two-story Tudor, he paused to admire the small building. One of his friends lived in a similar structure a few blocks over, so he had a general idea of what the layout was like. The first floor would have a small kitchen and living room, along with a small bathroom. Then, on the second floor, there would be a bedroom and an attic storage space connected to it by a small crawlway. Some people converted that space into a small second bedroom, but most just used it for storage.

He rang the bell, and after a short wait, the door opened to reveal a smiling Rose. She was still wearing the same dark blue button-down shirt and tan slacks that she'd had on earlier in the day. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, allowing a small display of cleavage -- unintentional, he was sure. After all, she certainly had the right to be comfortable in her own home.