Annie's Rainbow (9 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Annie's Rainbow
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“I think we can do it, sir,” Tom said, winking at Annie.
“Call me Elmo.”
“Where's the bourbon?” Norma queried.
“I'll get it, Mom,” Tom said.
When Annie closed and locked the door hours later, she turned to her brother. “All things considered, it was a wonderful Christmas Eve. Mom knew us for a little while. Jane is delirious with happiness. We called your kids, and everyone said ‘Merry Christmas.' Elmo is in his glory plotting our next business steps. You're here. I'm here. And I have Rosie. I don't think I could ask for more. Tomorrow we'll go to church, then we'll start working on the new year. Merry Christmas, Tom.”
“Merry Christmas, sis,” Tom said, wrapping his arms around Annie to hug her until she squealed. Rosie came on the run and skidded to a stop when she saw that it was Tom making her mistress squeal with delight. She backed up a step, squatted, and peed in the middle of the floor, then ran to her kennel, where she went when she made mistakes.
“It's okay, Rosie. My fault. I lost track of time. C'mon, you can come out.” The pup waddled her way over to Annie, her tail swishing furiously. Annie scooped her into her arms. “Tomorrow's another day. Let's go to bed, Tom. We can clean up in the morning.”
“Sounds good to me. Were you serious about me living here with you, Annie?”
“Yes. I told you, the cost of living here is cheaper. Think of all that extra money you'll have, not having to pay rent in California.”
“Elmo has such big plans. Are we up to this, Annie?”
“We're up to it, Tom. Trust me on this. I am going to miss Jane, though.”
“You can hire someone to sit at an easel and paint postcards. A young art student will jump at the chance.”
Arm in arm, brother and sister walked up the steps.
“I'm glad you're here, Tom.”
“Me too, Annie. Thanks for giving me the chance.”
“My pleasure. Thanks for giving me this dog. Did I thank you before?”
“At least five hundred times.
That
was my pleasure.”
“Night, Tom.”
“Night, Annie.”
In her room, with Rosie settled on her own little blanket, Annie withdrew the note Jane had passed her early in the evening. Her heart pounded inside her chest when she thought about why her friend hadn't taken her aside to tell her whatever was in the note. Why would Jane write her a note?
She knows
.
Annie sat down on the bed and unfolded the note.
Dear Annie,
I knew tonight would be hectic, and I wouldn't be able to get you alone. Also, I didn't want to spoil the evening. Hence the note. I am so worried about Peter Newman. He's been dogging Bob at the office. I know in my heart of hearts he thinks my car was the one where the money bag was tossed. Maybe by moving to San Francisco, I can get him out of my hair. I don't know why he's homed in on me like he has. He's scaring me and Bob as well. I'm just sorry I don't have your guts when it comes to dealing with that creep. He actually came right out and said I might have had a blanket or something on the floor and then thrown it away. This man is not going to go away. Not ever. I'm just so happy I can't stand the thought of that jerk spoiling my happiness. I haven't had a really good day since that creep invaded our lives, and I know you haven't either, for all your bravado.
Annie, you will always have a special place in my heart, and I want you to be the godmother to my first child. I want us to promise each other we will never let our friendship dwindle away to the point where we just send Christmas cards. You are the sister I never had. The best friend in the whole world. I hope your life turns out to be as wonderful as I hope mine will be.
Much love and affection.
Jane
Annie folded the note and placed it in her night-table drawer.
That does it. The day after Christmas
,
I'm mailing back the money
. She felt so dizzy and light-headed, she ran to the bathroom and stuck her head under the cold-water faucet. Then she started to cry.
She knows. The note is Jane's way of telling me she knows and would keep the secret. She couldn't face me. She doesn't want to be around me for fear she'll slip and say something or that something will show on her face. I know it as sure as I'm sitting here on this bed.
If Jane thinks it's me, and Newman thinks it's her, where does that leave me? If I send the money back and Jane moves to San Francisco, will he pursue her? What can he do? He needs proof. He doesn't have proof. The bag went up in flames. The clasp was hacked to pieces and tossed all over the state of North Carolina. He has no proof. Money has fingerprints on it. Well, I can put it in a pillowcase and run it through the wash cycle in the washing machine. I never touched the bearer bonds. I'll wear gloves to pack it up. I can drive to Atlanta and mail it from there. If not Atlanta, then Alabama. Or, I could drive all the way to Virginia or Washington, DC. I'll tell Tom and Elmo I want to scout an area for some new locations. Then I'll go in the opposite direction. I can do it all in one day. I know I can do it.
If I mail it back and Jane finds out, she'll know for certain her note worked, and it was me all along. Can I live with that?
Maybe I should tell Tom. Tom would know what to do. No, better not to involve anyone. Elmo. God, no.
Annie curled up next to the little dog and hugged her. “We'll think about this tomorrow, Rosie. I'll do the right thing. I really will.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Annie waited until she was sure Tom was sound asleep before she crept downstairs with the pillowcase full of money, which she'd been forced to bring home when her mother's furniture was readied for shipment to Westbury Center. Her whole body trembled as she stuffed it into the washing machine in the laundry room. How much soap was required to launder money? Should she use bleach? If she did, would it take the color out of the money? Dear God, what if she ruined it. Maybe she should use vinegar and baking soda. Her mother always said the combination would kill anything in its path: If it could kill an ant pile it should clean the money and destroy any and all of her fingerprints. Which cycle? she dithered. Gentle, normal, heavy-duty, or fine washables? Hot or cold? She started to shake all over again as she turned dials. Hot water and heavy-duty? She set the timer for a fifteen-minute wash cycle. With the soft water here in Charleston, what would she do if the money came out fluffy and hard to manage? “This is insane,” she muttered just as the doorbell rang. Who in the world would be ringing her doorbell at ten o'clock on Christmas night?
Annie ran to the door, tripping over her own feet as she went along. She squinted through the peephole and gasped. Daniel.
“Merry Christmas,” the professor said, holding out a luscious-looking poinsettia plant and a small gaily wrapped package.
“Daniel! How nice to see you.”
Daniel laughed. “Guess I'm a little late. I went to Georgia to see my dad and just got back. I've been gone for the last two weeks.”
“Oh.”
“A drink would be nice. It is rather cold standing here. If this isn't a good time, I can come back.”
“No, no. I'm sorry. My mind has been somewhere else all day. Come in. What would you like to drink?”
“What are you having?”
“Wine.”
“Then wine it is. Nice tree. I always chop one down for my dad. We try to pretend it's like past Christmases when Mom was still here and my brothers were around. It never works, but we keep trying. How's your mother?”
“She was here last night. We do that Christmas Eve thing instead of Christmas Day. Mom started it when we gave up on Santa. My brother's here, and she had a few good moments where she knew us.”
“Good God, what's that racket?” Daniel asked, whirling around.
“Well ... it's probably ... the washing machine probably went off center. I'll just turn it off.”
“Let me help you. I'm an old hand where washing machines are concerned. I have this relic in my apartment that goes off center every time I wash a load of clothes. It's really a simple matter of redistributing the load and using your backside to slide the machine back to its original position.”
“Really, it isn't a problem. Tom can ... Tom can adjust it in the morning.” She should have given more thought to the contents and going off center.
Damn, why didn't I think of that?
“It's no problem. For you to be washing on Christmas, the clothing must be important.”
“I was bored,” Annie said lamely. “See, it stopped all by itself.” With all the bouncing around the machine was doing, the money might be shredded by now.
You are one stupid woman
,
Annie Clark.
“Tell me, how can you be bored? What are you doing alone on Christmas? Where are all your friends?”
“They're all busy. Elmo is with his two lady friends. Jane is with Bob. They got engaged and are going to move to San Francisco. Tom's here, but he's beat, so he went to bed early. He's going to move here and help with the business. He's going through a divorce.”
“Don't tell me any more. Been there, done that. It wasn't a good time in my life. It still isn't. I wanted to tell you, Annie. It's just that I hate talking about it. Right now I can't handle anything more than friendship.”
“Friendship is fine. I'm not in a hurry to ... what I mean is, I'm not ready ... this isn't coming out right. Friendship is fine. More wine?”
“Sure. That's a pretty tree. Did you have it cut down?”
Annie laughed. “Nineteen ninety-five from the Shell station.”
“At least you have a tree. I didn't get one for the apartment. I put up a wreath on the door before I left, and when I got back it was gone. Some kids probably swiped it. I bought mine at the Piggly Wiggly. You know what I always say, if it works, then do it.”
“Yeah, I say that a lot myself.” Annie giggled. “Listen, if you're hungry, I can make you a turkey sandwich.”
“I am, and I'll take it. How about some of that good coffee of yours? Which brings me to the real reason I came by. When I got to my dad's house a Christmas card was waiting for me from an old college buddy. He owns a coffee plantation in Hawaii. Primo stuff. I called him just for the heck of it and he said you should order your coffee beans direct from him instead of buying through a middleman. Real nice guy. Single, no baggage. Women fall all over him. He's part Hawaiian, part Irish. Great athlete. He whipped my ass at every sport we ever played. He's competitive, rich as sin, and the best friend a guy could have. He was my best man when I got married. Anyway, he'll give you the best deal going. You need to go there and check it out. He said you could stay at the plantation. Trust me when I tell you there's nothing this guy doesn't know about coffee. I think he was weaned on the stuff instead of milk.”
“Really,” was all Annie could think of to say.
“Mayo and mustard. Do you have any pickles?”
“I have a whole jar full.”
“You shouldn't have said that. Pickles are my downfall.”
“The only reason I have them is I forgot to put them on the table last night.”
“So you and your brother are going to run the shops, eh?”
“Yes, but we're going to have to hire more help. Do you know any art students who might be interested in sitting in the shop doing the postcards?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Great kid, hard worker. Gives a hundred percent to anything she does. She paints scenes on sand dollars. That's what's in the present I brought you. I had her come by while I was gone to paint your shop and this house.”
Annie ran into the living room for the small gift box. She oohed and aahed when she saw the sand dollars. “These are beautiful. If she wants the job, tell her it's hers. What about her classes?”
“She clerks at Bob Ellis during the day. Takes classes at night. She's in the master's program. I'm sure you can work something out.”
“Full-time. Health benefits. We're working on a profit-sharing program. It won't be up and running for a while yet. She helps out behind the counter when it's busy. Base salary, half of whatever the sand dollars go for. We pay for the paints and the sand dollars. Sound good?”
“Better than good. She'll take it.”
“How do you know?” Annie asked curiously.
“Because it beats selling shoes, that's why.” Daniel laughed.
“If you had a choice, would you like to deal with smelly feet all day or would you rather sit like a lady and paint sand dollars?”
“Point well taken. Would you like some pie?”
“I think I'll pass on the pie. I have to pick up my cat Radar from a friend, and I need some sleep. So, are you going to take Parker up on his offer?”
“Parker?”
“Parker Grayson. The coffee king.”
“I'll talk to Tom about it in the morning. I'm for anything that will save me money. We're going to open two shops near Clemson University. Five hundred pounds of coffee a week is a lot of coffee.”
“Okay, here's his phone number and address. He said he'd send someone to the airport to pick you up. All he needs is two days' notice. I'm outta here, Annie. My eyes are starting to cross. You're sure now that you don't want me to move your washer?”
The smile died on Annie's lips. “I'm sure, Daniel. Thanks for the lovely plant and the sand dollars. What's the girl's name?”
“Dottie Frances Benton.”
“Tell her to come by and we'll talk.”
At the door, Daniel leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Annie.”
“The same to you, Daniel.”
Annie raced out to the laundry room the moment she was certain Daniel was off the porch and headed home. Thank God the laundry room had no windows. In a frenzy, she propped open the top of the washer, to be greeted by a sloppy mess. She tried to lift the pillowcase out of the water, but it was too heavy. Wet money was heavy. In desperation, she tried using two wooden spatulas from the kitchen drawer to try and slide the soggy pillowcase to the center of the washer. Perspiration dripping down her face, she finally managed to push the heavy case full of money to where she thought it would spin more effectively. Her breathing ragged, she turned the dial to the spin cycle. She jumped back when the machine bounded forward but continued to spin. Hardly daring to breathe, Annie waited out the cycle.
“Annie, do you mind telling me what the hell you're doing washing clothes in the middle of the night? What's the machine doing in the middle of the floor?”
“It's okay, Tom. Go back to bed. Rosie threw up on Mom's old quilt, and I decided to wash it. It lumped to the side and made the machine go off center. It's okay, I can handle it.”
I'm really getting good at this lying business
, she thought miserably.
“I'm up now, so I might as well help you.”
Annie almost choked. “Let's let it go till morning. How about a sandwich?”
“Sure. Do we have any cold beer?”
“Sure we do. I have something to tell you, Tom,” she said as she ushered him toward the kitchen. She talked as she sliced turkey onto a plate. “Daniel Evans, that professor I told you about stopped by and brought me these. What do you think?”
“They're pretty.”
. “They're sand dollars, and one of the students at the college painted them. It's the Daisy Shop and this house. She can take Jane's place if I like her and she wants the job. Basically it would be the same deal I had with Jane.”
Tom chewed with enthusiasm. “This stuff just falls in your lap, doesn't it, sis?”
“Seems that way sometimes. Jane's postcards and her paintings are part of the shop. Kind of like salt and pepper going together. This girl works full-time and goes to school at night. Don't ask me when she studies. Maybe she's a quick learner. Daniel said she sells shoes at Bob Ellis. I'm going to hire her. Do you agree?”
“Of course.”
“He also thinks I should go to Hawaii to talk to his friend Parker Grayson, who has a coffee plantation. He seems to think we can get a better deal on the coffee from him and he might roast it for us, too. Eliminates the middleman. If both shops are successful at Clemson we'll be ordering about five hundred pounds of coffee a week. We need to get the best deal possible.”
“I agree.”
“There's something else, Tom. With Jane and Bob moving to San Francisco, I don't think I want him doing our accounting. I just don't know how to bring it up tactfully without causing hard feelings with Jane. I don't want to have to rely on the mail and worry about will it get there on time. He's been picking up the stuff on a weekly basis. I'm more comfortable with a local firm. What's your feeling?”
“I agree with you on that, too. I can talk to Bob. If it looks like it's getting dicey, I'll say I'm taking it over. Business is business, Annie. When friendship gets involved there's always trouble. I'll be the bad guy and take the hit so your friendship with Jane stays intact. Boy, that was a good sandwich. How about a chunk of that stuffing? Do you remember, Annie, how Mom always made extra because we liked to eat it cold between two slices of bread? We ate that stuff for weeks.”
“I remember.”
“Do you still write in that diary I gave you on your sixteenth birthday?”
“Every day of my life. All my memories are in there, or as many of them as three lines can hold. Someday when we're both home with the flu or a bad cold, I'll read some of it to you. How come you went to bed so early?”
“I was kind of down. I miss the kids. Seeing Mom and knowing it isn't going to get any better, realizing what a jerk I was where you were concerned. It all kind of piled up on me.”
“There's more, isn't there?”
Tom's face closed up tight. “Yes, but I don't want to talk about it.”
“That's why you should talk about it. Let's have another beer and sit by the tree and talk it out. We used to do that in high school. Then when we went to bed it all seemed bearable.”
“That was a long time ago, Annie. We aren't kids anymore.”

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