Page 23 of Grounded
Annie arched her eyebrows and started to say more, but Beulah cut her off.
“You can have the house if you want it, Ms. Hawkins. Go back out to May Hollow Road and take a left out of my driveway. Take the next left on to Gibson’s Creek Road. You’ll take another left a quarter mile back. You’ll see a bridge going over the creek. The house is just beyond the bridge. The other way is a dirt road straight back here behind this house, but I’d prefer you to use the paved road. The utilities are still on, so everything should be in working order.”
Stella Hawkins nodded and pulled a thick white envelope out of her handbag.
“Thank you,” she said, laying the envelope on the table.
Beulah wrote her name and number on a piece of scrap paper and handed it to her. “Here’s my number if you need anything.”
“Where are you from, Stella?” Annie asked.
“Here and there, up North lately,” she said. “Okay, thank you.” She backed a few steps away then turned to go, nearly running into the doorframe before she found the handle to the door.
After the woman left, Annie said, “That was weird, Grandma. Something is not right with that woman. You should have counted that money in front of her. It may be a wad of newspaper!”
“Now, Annie, this woman will be living on our farm, and I don’t want to start right off showing her we don’t trust her.” Beulah laid the envelope on the kitchen table.
“Well I don’t trust her,” Annie said. “I’ve lived in the city too long.” She sat down and started counting the bills.
“Looks to me like she just needs a new pair of eyeglasses. Probably ruined her eyes with all the book writing.”
“Maybe,” Annie said, and laid the last bill in the stack. “It’s all here.”
“People usually become who you think they are. I want her to believe that we trust her and will keep our end of the bargain. And, this money will go a long way toward painting the house.”
Chapter Nine
Annie stared at the pile of clothes on her bed and fingered the faded colors and out-of-style fabrics, kept for what reason she didn’t know. The mound of shoes on the floor contained everything from her first pair of pumps to a worn pair of work boots. Still waiting for the garden to dry out, she threw her energy into cleaning out her bedroom. But now that most of her old stuff was out of the closet, she slumped on the bed and faced the formidable task of deciding what to keep and what to throw away. On top of that, there seemed a hazy memory attached to every single item she handled.
Both prom dresses hung protected under a plastic cover by a hook on the back of the closet door: the long blue-satin dress she wore to her junior prom and the yellow chiffon she had worn her senior year. Both dates were with Brett, her high school sweetheart. Smoothing the skirt of the yellow chiffon, she remembered the crush she had had on Brett since the seventh grade when she first saw him in the middle school library. He never cast a glance in her direction until she made the cheerleading squad her sophomore year.
He asked her to Homecoming and from then on they were an item, until he moved away to college and dumped her for another cheerleader. Her pride took a hit, but in a way it was a relief. Then there was nothing holding her back—no ties to Somerville other than her grandparents.
Annie’s cell phone rang and jarred her back to the present.
“What’s up?” It was Janice.
“I was cleaning out my closet, looking at old prom dresses and thinking about a high school boyfriend. How are you?”
“Speaking of old boyfriends, Stuart called to check on you. He said you won’t return his calls. He wants to know where you are.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said you were at home, but don’t worry. He thought I meant your old apartment, and I never corrected him. Good news! Beverly Enlo has an opening first of June, but you need to get your rent to her ASAP. She’s got several girls lined up behind you.”
“Great! Her place is just a few blocks from my old apartment.” Annie scrambled for a pen and paper while Janice gave her the address and amount. “I’ll get it in the mail today. How’s it going with Mrs. DeVechio?”
“She’s having a hard time adjusting. My kitchen is completely inadequate, according to her, and she keeps rearranging my drawers. But she’s good with the kids and doesn’t mind babysitting.”
“And work?”
“Crazy. Bob said he’s on the fast track to getting you back on. We need the help. They’ve got us selling bags of peanuts for five dollars!”
“No! Does anybody buy them?”
“Of course. You know how people are.”
Annie smiled. Yes, she did.
