Annie's Rainbow (3 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Annie's Rainbow
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No!
Yes!
Annie bounded off the bed to drag the small slipper chair to the window. She withdrew her diary, one of many she had accumulated over the years. She never went to sleep without writing at least one line about what happened during the day. Someday, when she was old and gray and sitting in a rocker, she would show them to her children and grandchildren. For the
zillionth
time she wished her own mother had done the same thing.
Annie wrote carefully, composing the words in her mind first so she could fit them into the three lines afforded this date.
I saw my own personal rainbow today. It's so strange that I was the recipient of this rainbow and no one else. I view it as a personal message that life will be whatever Jane and I choose to make it as we prepare to start our new lives with all our schooling behind us.
“If anyone reads this, they won't know what I'm talking about,” Annie muttered.
She didn't bother to get ready for bed. She knew there would be no sleep for her this night and probably for many nights to come. Instead, she sat on the small tufted chair and watched her car all through the night.
 
 
“It was a wonderful lunch, Elmo. Thank you so much. I'm really going to miss you.”
“Me too,” Jane said in a choked voice. “Promise you'll come to visit.”
The old man nodded solemnly. “Maybe in August when I close the store. Things are slow right before the new crop of students arrive. You can call me from time to time, and letters will be welcome. I do love to get letters.”
“At least one a week,” Annie promised.
“I have a little going-away present for both of you,” Elmo said, withdrawing two white envelopes from his inside breast pocket. “Open them.”
Both women opened the small envelopes and gasped. “Elmo, this is outrageous. I can't accept this. A thousand dollars is a fortune. No, no, you have to take this back.”
“Annie's right, Elmo. This is beyond generous,” Jane said.
“Can't. Won't. It's a gift. From my heart. It's going to be hard for the two of you at first. You need rent money, gas money, jobs. Utilities don't come free, you know. How long do you think those ancient vehicles are going to last you? All I want in return is for you to call and write. I don't want to worry about you. Not another word. I have to be getting back to the store now. Call me collect when you arrive. I want your promise.”
Both women wrapped their arms around the pharmacist, hugging him until he cried for mercy. “You take care of your-. self, Elmo. Remember now, if we ever get married, you promised to give us away.”
“Won't forget. Consider it an honor,” the old man snapped, his voice gruff and choked. “You git going now before traffic starts building up on the highway.”
“My God, Annie, do you believe this?” Jane asked, waving the check in her hand under her friend's nose.
“I love that old man, Jane,” Annie said tearfully. “Let's make the trip all in one day. I'm so wired I won't be able to sleep. We can drive through the night and arrive by morning. What do you say? Are you game?”
“Right now, Anna Daisy Clark, I feel like I could fly to South Carolina. Let's hit the road. We will stop for coffee along the way, won't we?”
“Yes. I guess we should just get in our cars and go,” Annie said.
“That's a good plan, Annie. Let's do it.”
Annie licked at her dry lips. “Yes, let's do it.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Tell me again why you wanted to come to this wonderful, warm, sunny place,” Jane said as she leaned back in the booth, at the same time pushing her luncheon plate to the middle of the table. “God, I'm tired. You look exhausted, Annie. Both of us need to sleep around the clock.”
Annie sighed, a sound that could be heard clear across the room. She lit a stale cigarette, something she rarely did because she couldn't afford to smoke. “My parents used to bring Tom and me here every summer. I remember how happy I was when I got here. My steps were lighter, my face hurt from smiling so much. I clearly remember the early-evening smell of confederate jasmine and sweet olive. I swear, Jane, the scent used to stop me dead in my tracks. My mother always said she wanted to bottle the smell so she would have it nearby once we got back to Tennessee. They call this the low country, and I swear it has a way of creeping into your sleep until even your waking dreams are filled with its spirit and you find yourself in a longing state. I always said I was going to come here and live someday. Now, I'm here. I hope you're going to love it here as much as I do.”
“I love it already. I don't think I've ever seen such a glorious array of flowers. What did you say that purple hanging stuff is?”
“Wisteria. The big bushes are azaleas and the flowering trees are dogwood. The sweet olive trees are the ones with the little yellow buds. That was a good lunch, Jane.”
“We need to move, Annie, or I'm going to fall asleep. First stop, the bank, so we can open an account. It's going to take at least five days for Elmo's check to clear.”
“You're right. Thank God we have our apartment. I can't wait to see it. The landlady said she would have it all ready. All we have to do is put the sheets on the beds and buy some groceries. We have a roof over our heads for a month.”
Her eyelids drooping, Jane said, “Is our game plan the same? We get part-time jobs as waitresses while we look for a vacant shop to open our own business. In the meantime we send out resumes by the dozen in the hopes someone will snap us up to add to their payroll or are we going to forget about that for the time being?”
Annie crawled out of the booth. “I don't think I've ever been this tired. Let's use the Broad Street Bank for now. Later on we can change if we want to. For now it will fit our needs. All the other stuff we'll just play by ear. I'm too tired to think.”
It was two-thirty when Annie parked the Impala next to Jane's Mustang. “Here we are, one-thirty Logan Street. Apartment Seven. The key is under the flowerpot. I'm just carrying in my bedding. We can unpack the car later.”
“I'm with you,” Jane said, hauling the canvas laundry bag from the backseat of her car. “Be sure to lock the doors,” she called over her shoulder.
Annie drew in her breath when she opened the back door of the Impala. For one heart-stopping moment she wished the money bag would be gone. She felt faint when she saw it nestled next to one of her running shoes. Surely it was okay to cover it up now. No one had followed them, no one had seemed the least bit suspicious. Maybe she should just throw the bank bag into her laundry bag.
The moment you do that, you become a thief. A criminal. It's premeditated something or other,
she told herself.
I have to move it sometime. The sooner the better. I'm keeping it.
“What are you doing, Annie? I want us both to see our new home at the same moment. Did you lose something?”
“I'm looking for my other running shoe. I found it!” she called as she stuffed the bank bag down deep into her laundry bag. She swore it weighed a thousand pounds as she made her way up the walkway that led to Apartment 7. Guilt was always heavy.
“Okay, open the door, Jane.”
“It's not bad,” Jane said, looking around. “Actually, it reminds me of the apartment in Boston. It's clean, too. Kitchen is small. Bedrooms are a good size. We can live here comfortably, Annie. I can spruce it up once we get settled.”
“The rent is good, it's a quiet little street. I like it that we're close to King Street. That's where all the shops are. We might even be able to get around on foot if our cars give out. Which bedroom do you want?”
“I'll take the one without the wallpaper. Cabbage roses make me dizzy. I'm going to say good night, Annie.”
“There's a grocery store on Rutledge. First one up buys the groceries. I expect we'll sleep until tomorrow. Night, Jane.”
Annie closed the door. She felt a surge of panic when she saw there was no lock on it. Maybe that was good. The bank bag went under the bed in the blink of an eye. Sooner or later she was going to have to open it. “Later rather than sooner,” she mumbled as she whipped out sheets and a light summer blanket. Ten minutes later she was sound asleep.
Annie woke thirteen hours later to the smell of coffee and frying bacon. She realized she was ravenous. “Guess you got up first, huh?” she said, shuffling into the kitchen.
“Sure did. The shower leaves a lot to be desired, but the water was hot. I got everything at this neat little store. We need to find a real grocery store. That one was expensive.”
“What time is it?”
“It's eleven o'clock. If you don't dilly-dally, we can be out of here by one. By the way, the phone is hooked up. Do we have anyone to call?”
“Not a soul. This is so good, Jane. Why is it I eat three eggs every morning and you only eat one?”
“Because I am a one-egg person. Maybe someday I will eat three. There's a first time for everything.”
Annie felt her heart thump in her chest. It was true, there was a first time for everything. Every criminal did something wrong for the first time. The word
criminal
drained the color from her face.
“You look kind of peaked, Annie. Are you sure you're feeling okay?”
“I'm fine. Maybe I got too much sleep. You know, everything is so new and yet not new if you know what I mean. It was a great breakfast. Do you mind cleaning up?”
“No. Take as long as you need.”
Annie bolted for her room. On her hands and knees, she dragged the money bag out to the middle of the floor. Her hands trembling, she undid the metal clasp and dumped the contents on the floor. Loose bills of every denomination, slender packets of bills, and the crinkly bearer bonds littered the floor. She scooped it all into a pillowcase and stuffed it back into the laundry bag. At some point she was going to have to burn the bag and toss the clasp into the ocean just on the off chance that the clasps on the money bags were identical to the bank's logo or crest. At the last second, she pulled out two hundred dollars in twenty-dollar bills. She would need deposit monies at some point. Better not to keep going into the bag.
Anna Daisy Clark, you are now a bona fide criminal. A thief of the first order. If you get caught, you will go to jail. I'm not going to get caught. This is for now. I'm going to pay it back as soon as possible. I'm not just saying that. I will pay it back. I promise.
That's what every thief in the world says when they find themselves behind bars
, her conscience needled.
Annie ignored the voice inside her head as she stepped into the shower. Glorious, hot, steaming water pelted her naked body. She washed her hair twice and lathered her body three times before she was ready to leave the little cubicle.
She towel-dried her hair, having no idea where her blow-dryer was. She thanked God again as she always did for her wash-and-wear hair. Dressed in wrinkled chinos, worn sandals, and a tank top, she stood back to survey herself in the blurry mirror. For today it would do.
The diary was in her hands almost before she knew it. She wrote quickly, wanting her small confession condensed in as few words as possible.
We arrived in Charleston yesterday and slept for thirteen hours. All is secure.
Annie closed the diary with a loud snap. The two hundred dollars went into the pocket of her chinos.
“Where to?” Jane asked.
Annie rummaged in her purse for the small notebook she was never without. “I thought we would apply for jobs at Hyman's first. Then we can check out this list of available storefronts the Chamber of Commerce sent me. I don't have a clear memory of the places on the list. We stopped coming here when I was around fourteen or so, and I'm sure things have changed. There's a map, though, so we'll be able to get around easily.”
At three-thirty, both women had the promise of temporary part-time waitressing jobs. “Eight hours a week if the tips are good is okay,” Annie assured Jane. “It will get us over the hurdle if we can't find a location to open a business. This one on George Street looks pretty good. It's smack-dab in the middle of the Charleston campus and will draw students. Bishop England High School is close, so that's a plus. Let's go there first and see what we can work up if anything. According to this map the building is between King and Phillips. Do you think we should call the broker first?”
Jane snorted. “Do you know who the broker is?”
“No. Okay, let's go. It can't be far. If it looks promising, we can call the broker from a phone booth.”
It was almost five-thirty when Annie pressed her nose up against the grimy storefront window. “It's a dump, that's for sure. Do you think it's
doable
, Jane?”

Doable
as in Annie and Jane doing all the work. I don't know, Annie. I need to see the inside. It's big. For some reason I thought it would be, you know, little, kind of like a big walk-in closet. I saw a phone booth down the street. I'll call. In the meantime, go into that store next to it and ask some questions. It looks like it's been empty for a long time.”
Annie's brain whirled as she moved along the wide front windows to rub at the grime. All things considered, it would be perfect for what she and Jane had in mind. There was even a counter.
“He's coming right over,” Jane said. “What did you find out?”
“Nothing. The man was locking up. I didn't want to bother him. If the rent is right, this might work, Jane. Look, there's a counter. My end would be here, yours to the right. Once these windows are cleaned you'd have really good light. Coffee by Annie and paintings by Jane. I'm liking this more and more. Cross your fingers that the rent is something we can handle. Do you think that's a cash register?”
“It looks like one to me. I guess this is Mr. Peabody coming toward us. He said his office was just a block away. He doesn't look like a shark, does he?”
“All real-estate people are sharks. Stay alert. Go across the street and ask the music people how long this place has been empty.”
“Anna Clark, and you must be Mr. Peabody,” Annie said, holding out her hand. The Realtor's hand was moist and clammy. Annie fought the urge to wipe her own hand on her chinos. Instead she jammed both her hands into her pockets.
Peabody was round like a melon. Even his face was round, with a goatee. He looked to Annie like a benevolent barracuda listing to the left. He removed his Panama hat with a flourish, revealing a shiny bald head that was wet with sweat. A massive ring of keys appeared in his hands. She watched as he fit key after key into the lock until finally he found the right one.
“Wonderful location. Right in the heart of things. You couldn't want anything better. A little paint will work wonders. The other shopkeepers are just wonderful people. Neighborly, if you know what I mean. They help one another. You ladies aren't from around here, are you?”
“You mean are we
Yankees?
Actually, Mr. Peabody, I am Anna Clark, and my friend is Jane. That's who we are.”
“Lord love a duck. You young women today say the goldangest things.”
Jane returned to the shop holding up two fingers and then whacked the first finger at the second knuckle, meaning the store had been empty for two and a half years. Annie's brain buzzed.
“How much is the rent, Mr. Peabody?” she asked.
“Seven hundred and fifty dollars.”
Annie laughed. Jane joined in. Annie's brain continued to buzz as she tried to calculate rent for two and a half years. Somewhere in the neighborhood of $23,000.
Peabody's voice was unctuous sounding. “Does the amount offend you ladies?”
Annie squared her shoulders. She was a business major. She should be able to handle this in a mature, professional manner. “Let's cut the bullshit, Mr. Peabody. This store has been empty for two and a half years. At the price you quoted, you lost approximately twenty-three thousand dollars. My friend and I are willing to pay three hundred a month providing you do certain things. Mainly clean up this dump and take out all this trash. A paint job goes with the deal. We're willing to sign a three-year lease and a renewal at the end of three years with a fifty-dollar increase. It won't do to haggle. It's all we can afford, so it's a take-it-or-leave-it offer.”

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