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The cab meandered the backroad of sparsely spaced houses until it reached the dead end. Bruno Elrod exited and smelled the rose garden 10 yards away. Belladonna Abbott was rotating a yellow watering bucket over silklike pink heads. When she turned to him, his frustration retreated under a crooked smile.
“Hey, Bruno!”
“Hello, Miss Abbott.”
“How are you today?”
The smile on his petite face collapsed involuntarily. “Well, still hoping for a job.”
He continued to the front door. Once he stepped onto the vine-strangled porch, she said, “Keep applying.”
“I’ve applied at 10 places the last two weeks. Applied at Clayton’s Tires today. In the reflection of the glass, I saw the manager trash my ap. People like that test my nerve.”
“Oh, you couldn’t hurt a fly.”
She laughed, and his
