I have never mentioned it to him, and I don’t intend to. I’ve got a dozen theories about it. Here are a few for samples:
1. He knew I would go to the funeral, and he sent that bunch of orchids purely and simply to pester me.
2. Something from his past. When he was young and handsome, and Bess Huddleston was ditto, they might have been-uh, acquainted. As for her not recognizing him, I doubt if his own mother would, as is. And there’s no doubt he has fifteen or twenty pasts; I know that much about him.
3. He was paying a debt. He knew, or had an idea, that she was going to be murdered, from something someone said that first day, and was too damn lazy, or too interested in corned beef hash with chitlins, to do anything about it. Then when she was ready for burial he felt he owed her something, so he sent her what? Just some orchids, any old orchids? No, sir. Black ones. The first black orchids ever seen on a coffin anywhere on the globe since the dawn of history. Debt canceled. Paid in full. File receipted bills.
4. I’ll settle for number three.
5. But it’s still a mystery, and when he catches me looking at him a certain way he knows darned well what’s on my mind.
A.G.