Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [18]
“I hope so, Elmo, because I’m starting to get nervous. I never expected anything even half as successful as this. This is just short of phenomenal.”
“I know, Annie. If you opened other stores on other campuses like this one, they’d be just as successful. When this one is truly off the ground, you might want to think about it. You started this one on a shoestring, and look what happened. If you need an investor, I’m yours for the taking.”
“Elmo, I can’t even think about that yet.”
“You have to think about it, Annie. We’ve sold out every single day we’ve been open. Would you listen to me. I sound like I’m part of this.”
“You are!” Jane and Annie said in unison.
“You get up when we do,” Annie went on. “You make coffee, boil milk, make sandwiches just like we do. That makes you a one-third partner.”
“I don’t want to be a partner. My business days are over. I only want to help. I get a kick out of talking to the kids. They call me Pops, can you beat that?”
Annie laughed. “They called you Pops back in Boston, too.”
“Speaking of Boston, I got a form letter today that was forwarded from that same insurance company asking me to make a list of all the people I knew who frequented my store that day and any personal information I might have. I tore it up. They’re getting to be a pain in my behind. I think they’re desperate is what I think.”
“I think I hate insurance companies as much as I hate used-car salesmen. They want their premiums, and when it’s time to pay out they fight you every step of the way. On top of that they then raise your rates. If I get one, I’m tearing up mine, too,” Jane said.
“Yeah, me too,” Annie said quietly.
“I did a watercolor the other day of a Charleston garden, Annie. Do you want to take it to your mother? I know she loves flowers. I just put a plain white frame on it.”
“She’ll love it,” Annie said.
“You sound funny. Are you okay?”
“I’m getting a headache. I used to get headaches when I didn’t know if I could make the rent and buy food. Now, when things are going well, I’m worried it won’t last. I guess I’m going to have to go back on my aspirin kick again. By the way, Jane, did we leave a forwarding address?”
Jane slapped at her forehead. “Damn, I forgot. I was going to do it the day of the bank robbery, then you came home and I forgot. I can send one of those forms to the post office tomorrow. I’m sorry, Annie.”
“Don’t do it for me. All our bills were paid. Tom has this address. Mom isn’t in that nursing home anymore, so who would write me? Forget it.”
“Okay, I will. Well, I’m going to pack up my gear and head home. It’s my turn to cook. How about stuffed pork chops?”
“Make me two,” Elmo said smartly.
“Me too,” Annie said just as smartly. No forwarding address meant the insurance company couldn’t locate her or Jane. Thank you, God.
“Annie, I forgot to tell you something. Your mother can use her own furniture when she moves into Westbury Center. Didn’t you tell me you put your family things in storage in Raleigh?”
“That’s wonderful. She’ll love having her own things even if she only remembers them once in a while.” This was all just too damn coincidental or she was becoming paranoid. On the way to North Carolina to pick up her mother, she’d stopped at the storage unit she’d paid rent on all these years and hid the pillowcase with the bank money in one of the dresser drawers, keeping ten thousand dollars in case of an emergency. She’d replaced the two hundred dollars from her own account and then taken ten thousand. What kind of pretzel logic was that? A criminal mentality was taking over her mind, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
“Mom really likes those ladies that are staying with her, doesn’t she?” Annie said to have something to say.
“She calls them both Grace. They don’t mind, though. They understand. Helen likes me. A lot,” Elmo said slyly.
Annie and Jane whooped with glee. Elmo’s face turned fire red. “When is your house going to be ready?