Annie's Answer (11 page)

“If you still
want to go….” She sounded uncertain.

That stung.
Did she think he wanted to back out of his invitation?

“Of course,”
he said abruptly, a little hurt she doubted  his word. “I’d better get
going.”

“Well, have a
nice day.”

“You already
said that.” He felt like a jerk when she blushed at his reminder.

The way this
day was going, he’d probably have a thousand- word e-mail from his father
reminding him of all the things he hadn’t had time to do.

Was Nathan
angry at her for doubting whether he really wanted to go out with her? It was
one more worry to add to her growing list. Although Bill Polk had been
congenial when she told him she’d have the down payment on his shop, his wife,
Shirley, had been reserved, as though she’d just heard bad news. Did they have
another buyer in mind, one who might pay more?

Although she’d
dropped off ad copy in the mail slot at the newspaper, Annie knew it wasn’t
nearly as much as usual. She hated letting Marge down, especially when the
paper was facing hard times. The deadline was noon today, and there was no way
she could make more calls before then.

Tomorrow
morning was her usual day to help out in the church office. Would she have to
let them down too? Nathan said she could leave whenever she needed to, but that
didn’t mean leaving Mattie alone for half a day or more.

“Mattie!” she
called out when she didn’t find the older woman in her favorite room, the
kitchen.

Her first
thought was she might have fallen, but before she could search for her, Mattie
came into the kitchen.

“You’re
walking without your crutches,” Annie said, pleased to see it but hoping she
wasn’t rushing her recovery.

“I’m tired of
those silly sticks. Now, what should we do today?” It was a rhetorical
question. Mattie was the one who made the work lists.

“Would you
like to get out? Maybe have lunch in the park?” Annie asked optimistically.

“Too hot. I
thought maybe we could clean the oven and do those cupboards up high. The
gardener comes on Wednesday. Maybe he knows where there’s a step ladder. You’ll
need one to reach the ones over the fridge.”

“Is he here?
I’ll go ask him.”

“He’s been
puttering around since dawn, no doubt trying to get a jump on the heat. At
least he wasn’t running the lawn mower. I can’t believe George has a lawn
service just to mow. My Tom would’ve made fast work of it with his rider
mower.”

It was rare
for Mattie to mention her husband. Annie was reminded of how much the older
woman had lost. She deserved respect for the way she was coping.

Following
Mattie’s instructions, Annie made iced tea for lunch and boiled eggs to make a
favorite of the older woman’s: pickled beets and eggs.

“We’ll have to
use canned beets,” Mattie complained. “I put beets on the shopping list for
Nathan last weekend, and that’s what he bought. I always use fresh if they’re
available.”

Annie did
convince her not to run the self-cleaning feature of the oven, using the one
argument Mattie would accept: It would be a waste of energy when the oven
looked as though it had hardly been used.

“That would be
George’s wife,” Mattie said. “She has the best oven money can buy but doesn’t
turn it on more than once a year.”

When Mattie
sent her to find the gardener, an older man she vaguely knew as one of her
friend’s grandfather, Annie lingered and watched him weeding one of the beds.
The fragrance of the flowers and the bright splashes of color enchanted her,
but after a few minutes her conscience prompted her to ask about a ladder.

When he
carried it into the kitchen for her, Mattie beamed with pleasure and offered
him iced tea. She obviously took pleasure talking to someone closer to her age,
and Annie wondered if Nathan had made a mistake not finding an older woman as
her companion.

While they
talked about things ‘back in the day,’ Annie eyed the small ladder with
misgivings. In order to reach the high cupboards over the fridge, she would
have to stand on the top. The rungs wouldn’t allow her to reach high enough.
She wasn’t exactly afraid of heights—but she had a healthy respect for
them. Maybe it was more accurate to say she was afraid of falling.

The gardener,
Mr. Baines, left with a smile on his face matched by Mattie’s, and Annie
resolutely climbed the ladder.

“You can hand
me the things you find,” Mattie said, hovering beside the creaky ladder. “We’ll
give then a good wash and line the shelve with nice contact paper.”

Annie’s knees
trembled as she leaned over the top of the fridge, hoping there was nothing
behind the first small door she opened.

“It looks like
things they never use,” she said, hoping Mattie would decide to forget it.

“George’s wife
never uses anything in the kitchen, but that doesn’t mean the cupboards
shouldn’t get a good cleaning.”

Annie handed
down the first item, a heavy mixer that required both hands to lift. If she
fell, all her hopes for a business of her own could be ruined. She clutched at
the fridge as soon as Mattie took the mixer and tried to see what else was in
the cupboard. There seemed to be a collection of empty glass canning jars. She
reached for one with an unsteady hand.

“Sakes alive!”
Mattie said. “This stuff should go to a charity shop, but it’s not mine to give
away. I guess we’ll have to wash it and put it back.”

We’ll have to?
Annie wanted to say. Mattie wasn’t the one risking life and limb to clean a
cupboard that Nathan’s mother might never open.

Did she only
imagine she heard the sound of a door opening and closing? She peered into the
depths of the cupboard, hoping it was empty. Unfortunately there was something
at the very back, almost too far away to reach. She stretched forward, tempted
to pretend nothing else was there. How on earth was she going to line it with
contact paper when she could barely reach it?

The ladder
wobbled under her feet as she attempted to grab whatever it was. Just as her
fingers touched the elusive object, Nathan came into the kitchen calling out in
a loud voice.

“What on earth
are you doing?”

She could feel
her precarious perch giving way, the ladder slipping away from her feet. She
tried to clutch at the fridge to keep from falling, but it was too slippery.
Time seemed to stop as she desperately treaded air, crying out in distress.

Instead of
landing on the floor in a bone-breaking heap, she felt strong arms around her,
lowering her gently to her feet on solid ground.

“Why would you
climb a ladder that should have been put in the trash years ago? What was so
important you had to get into those cupboards?”

It was the
first time Annie had seen Nathan angry, and even Mattie seemed to cower for a
moment.

“You startled
me!” Annie said. “I was perfectly all right until you came barging in.”

His face was
pale, and he seemed genuinely frightened. She wanted to reassure him, but
Mattie didn’t give her a chance.

“For goodness
sake, Nathan! Annie had a bad enough fright without you hollering at her. It
was my idea and my fault she was on the ladder.”

Annie started
to breath normally after her scare, but she didn’t want her fall to cause
trouble between Nathan and his great aunt.

“I wasn’t
doing anything I didn’t want to do,” she insisted.

“Can’t I leave
the two of you here alone?” he asked in a weary tone. “It’s only common sense
not to stand on the top of a shaky ladder.”

“Annie was
fine until you came in,” Mattie said in a subdued voice, apparently cowed by
her nephew’s disapproval.

“What was so
important you had to climb up there?” he asked, picking up one of the old
canning jars. “This stuff isn’t even worth taking to the thrift store. I’m
putting it in the trash right now. You can’t seriously think my mother would
ever use any of it.”

“Mattie wants
the kitchen to be clean when your parents get home. I can’t imagine your
cleaning service does cupboards,” Annie said defensively.

“Well, neither
are you from now on. Aunt Mattie, I didn’t hire Annie to be a maid. The two of
you will have to find something else to do—something safer.”

“I suppose you
expect us to play checkers,” his aunt said in a sour voice.

“We’ll think
of something,” Annie assured him, suddenly afraid he might replace her with an
elderly woman closer to Mattie’s age.

“I’m sure you
will,” he said as he loaded the entire contents of the cupboard into a big
black garbage bag.

“Someone might
be able to use those canning jars,” Mattie weakly protested.

“They’re going
in the recycle bin.” Nathan’s tone practically dared her to argue.

Annie felt
deflated, her bubble of happiness burst by the Nathan’s disapproval. Even if he
hadn’t fired her on the spot, was their date tomorrow still on?

He disappeared
for a few minutes, lugging the ladder and the plastic bag to the bins in the
garage. Annie expected him to leave from there, but he came back to the
kitchen.

“I’m sorry for
getting mad,” he said to both of them. “Just don’t take on more dangerous jobs,
Annie. And don’t expect her to, Aunt Mattie. Promise me, both of you.”

Annie nodded,
and Mattie made a little huffy sound. Nathan seemed satisfied.

“I can fix
your lunch in a hurry,” Mattie said, her good humor restored.

“I don’t have
time. I have to get back to the office,” Nathan said, looking at Annie. “I’ll
call you later.”

He left
without saying anything else.

Did that mean
their date was till on? Now that the crisis was past, she hated herself for
taking a risk on the old ladder. She should’ve stood up to Mattie instead of
balancing on the top of a stack of old wood. Nathan must think she didn’t have
a brain in her head.

More than
before, she was certain Nathan would never see her as anything but his aunt’s
companion. He’d probably keep his word about tomorrow night, but that would be
the end of it.

When Annie got
home Wednesday evening, she went to her closet and tried to find an outfit
appropriate for a date with Nathan. He must think she was a klutz, falling off
a ladder into his arms, so it would probably be the one and only time she went
somewhere with him. She was determined not to wear anything that looked like a
thrift store reject, but her wardrobe was suffering from major neglect.

It was
hopeless. Even her best jeans were faded and threadbare in spots, and she
hadn’t thought about new clothes in ages. She was ready to cancel the date when
she took out her plastic-covered prom dress. The sapphire blue gown hadn’t been
out of the bag since she’d brought it home from the dry cleaners, but it was
every bit as nice as she remembered. Never a fan of frills and flounces, she’d
helped her mother sew a classic design, strapless with a fitted bodice. It
would be perfect for an important date if it weren’t floor length with bare
shoulders.

Spreading it
out on the blue and yellow quilt that served as a bedspread, she laid a white
lace jacket on top. Although she’d had the jacket for ages, a gift from her
aunt in Omaha, Annie rarely wore it because she’d didn’t have anything to go
with it.

Now she did.
All she had to do was shorten the skirt of her prom dress, and she wouldn’t
have to feel out of place with Nathan.

Rushing to the
dining room where her mother kept her sewing machine, she laid the dress on the
table and used a measuring tape to put pins where the hem should go. Tired as
she was, this was her one time to shorten the dress.

Her eyelids
were dropping when she finally finished sewing the new hem by hand. In her
bedroom the clock on the bedside table told her it was past two a.m., and she
needed to get up early to press it.

The night
seemed five minutes long, but she managed to finish ironing before anyone else
was up. She hurried to get ready for work, just grabbing a toaster pastry on
the way out.

“What’s the
hurry?” Gramps asked as she rushed past him nibbling on her nasty breakfast.

“I have to
stop at the newspaper on my way to the Sawyers,” she said, her conscience
forcing her to apologize to Marge for the  poor showing on the ads for
this week’s issue.

“Oh, I forgot
to leave a note for you,” her mother said coming into the kitchen. “The church
secretary called and asked if you could come a little early tomorrow. The woman
who usually helps fold bulletins is out of town on vacation.”

A vacation! In
her world it was a foreign concept. When was the last time Gramps had loaded up
the car and taken them to the beach or to visit relatives?

That was
beside the point. How on earth could she spend extra time helping at church
when she had zero minutes of spare time today or tomorrow?

Annie was in
her car, putt-putting to the Westover Weekly, when an idea hit her. Maybe
Mattie would like to go to church with her tomorrow and help out. Folding
bulletins was something she could do sitting down, and it would keep her
occupied for a while. It was worth a try.

Meanwhile, she
parked her VW and hurried to the employees’ entrance in the alley that ran
behind the old brick building. Marge was an early bird, always cheerful in the
morning, but Annie still dreaded talking to her. There was no question she’d
let her boss at the paper down. She’d scored more advertising her first week on
the job than she had this week.

“Good
morning,” she called as she looked for Marge.

Instead her
husband, Ted, came out of his office.

“She went out
to hustle a few more ads before we send the paper off to be printed,” he said
with a frown.

Ted Owens
always intimidated her. He was well over six foot and tended to bellow when he
gave orders. He obviously wasn’t happy this morning.