Florence's Final Journey22

9
Gabby put his hands on his hips but didn't answer. He blew out some
air followed by two deep sighs and a long stare. “You're serious, aren't
you?”
“Yes, come on we can talk some baseball. My second husband played
against the Indians. He went by Scrappy Curtis, do you remember him?”
“Heck, yeah. He played for the Portland Beavers. He was a helluva
second baseman and could hit, too. What was life like with Scrappy? I
always liked the little guy. He played like a demon but was mellow and
quiet before and after the games.”
“He was great. Loved him to death, literally. He passed away nearly
twenty years ago. My first husband, Dwayne, has been gone for over forty
and its been a decade and a half since my little girl left this world. Getting
this old is both a blessing and a curse. Come on, Gabby. You don't seem
the type to make a sweet old lady beg.”
He stood silently for a long few seconds.
“What the heck! Okay, let's do it. I have to make a couple calls. I'll
take the thousand but no more. I wish I had on some better clothes,
though. You sure you want to hang out with an old bum cabbie?”
“Here's fifteen hundred. No more discussion. You look fine. A cabbie
wearing slacks and a clean white shirt was frankly, a pleasant surprise.
Let's hop on the train and don't forget the music. But you could comb
your hair.” She counted out fifteen crisp hundreds and tossed them on
the driver's seat.
Gabby let out a guffaw, patted her arm and swept his hand over his