Annie's Answer (9 page)

“I’d really
rather use my own.” It horrified Annie to think she might get a scratch on Mrs.
Sawyer’s practically new Cadillac.

“Fine,” Mattie
said, still smiling to herself thanks to her friend’s call. She retrieved her
purse and a second crutch, not wasting any time getting into Annie’s old VW.

“You get
around in this old thing?” she asked, apparently not big on tact.

“I mostly just
drive around town,” Annie said, telling herself to be patient, patient,
patient.

After a
harrowing half hour selecting contact paper, Mattie had her drive to the market
for soy cheese and whole wheat pasta so she could surprise Nathan with a
casserole for dinner.

Back at the
house cleaning drawers appealed to Annie’s sense of order, although she still
worried Mrs. Sawyer might not appreciate it. By mid afternoon, she’d lined half
a dozen drawers and, at Mattie’s insistence, had washed all the tableware and
utensils before replacing them.

“Well, we
accomplished a lot today,” Mattie said when it was time for Annie to leave.

Reminding
herself to be patient and kind, Annie didn’t mention that Mattie had mostly sat
watching her and supervising. If this was what the older woman enjoyed doing,
at least it made the day pass more quickly.

Nathan didn’t
come home before it was time to leave. The day seemed empty without at least a
glimpse of him, but she tried to tell herself it was best that way.

By the time
Annie had to go to the pancake restaurant, she felt exhausted, more from taking
orders without question than from the actual work. She left with Mattie’s
assurance they could do more kitchen cleaning tomorrow.

After a slow
day, as Monday usually was, she found herself clock-watching, eager to get
home. When it was almost time for the restaurant to close, she had one last
customer.

“Am I too late
for a stack of pancakes?” Nathan asked, coming up to her as she refilled
ketchup bottles for the next day.

“Sorry, the
cook has closed the kitchen,” she said. “Didn’t Mattie make her casserole for
you?”

“She made it.”
His tone told her enough. “I waited until she went to bed to come looking for
real food.”

“I’m sorry.
There might be a couple of fast food places still open.”

“Can you leave
now?” he asked. “Come get a bite to eat with me?”

Could she? Her
boss would have a fit, but she accepted Nathan’s and hurried to the kitchen to
ask Marie to finish the closing jobs for her. When the other waitress
agreed—not without some curiosity about the reason—Annie tossed her
soiled apron in the laundry bin and grabbed her purse.

Maybe she was
being silly, pretending she had a date with Nathan, but after her long day a
little fantasy would go a long way.

Nathan was
smiling to himself when Annie hurried out to leave with him. Did he really need
or want a greasy hamburg or fried chicken that had been under a heat lamp since
the dinner hour? He could just as easily have had a bowl of cereal at home, but
he’d missed seeing Annie before she left today. He had a legitimate reason to
talk to her about his aunt, but he wasn’t good at self-deception.

Sitting in
court, trying to stay focused, he’d daydreamed about Annie. When he couldn’t
get home before she left, he’d been surprisingly disappointed. His aunt’s
healthy but horrible casserole gave him a reason to seek Annie out at her
evening job.

“Have you had
dinner?” It occurred to him that her work schedule didn’t leave much time for
meals.

“I usually
have something when I get home from here,” she said, walking out beside him
with a backward glance over her shoulder as though she expected to be stopped.

“How late do
you usually work?” It was information he wanted to file away for future
reference.

“We’re supposed
to be done at ten, but my boss always finds jobs to keep us later.” She slid
onto the seat of Nathan’s Lincoln when he opened the door.

Inside the
vehicle she looked small and vulnerable in a way that tugged on his
heartstrings. He wanted to make life easier for her, but he didn’t have a clue
how to do that without offending her. She certainly hadn’t jumped at the chance
to be a live-in companion for his aunt, not that he blamed her. But it would’ve
given him a chance to solve her financial problems.

“Where would
you like to go?” he asked, only a courtesy since most of Westover was closed
down by now.

“If you don’t
like fast food….”

“Not much.”

“There’s
Mama’s Place on Main Street. I don’t think it closes until midnight. And it’s
fairly dark. I won’t feel so conspicuous in my uniform,” she said.

“Mama’s,” he
mused. “I can’t believe there’s an eating place in town I haven’t tried,
although I have to admit we Sawyers usually go to the country club or the
restaurant in the Hotel Burgess, both closed by now. Let’s go to Mama’s.”

No wonder he’d
never bothered to try the small restaurant sandwiched between a resale shop and
an empty building with a FOR RENT sign on a window painted black. If Westover
had a rundown area, this would be it. Fortunately urban renewal had given the
business district a new face some years ago, missing only this short block off
Main Street.

“It’s not
fancy, but the food is good,” Annie said in an apologetic tone.

After assuring
her he was eager to try something different, Nathan parked on the street right
in front of the place, a sure sign it wasn’t busy. When he went through the
door with Annie, he was surprised by how small it was inside. There were maybe
ten tables crowded together and a swinging door to the kitchen. Only one was
occupied. A lone man in brown coveralls and a greasy red cap was hunched over a
large platter heaped with food.

Nathan
followed Annie to a table for two against the wall and pulled out a chair with
a cracked faux leather seat. It was definitely a dive, but all he really cared
about was the chance to talk to Annie away from his great aunt.

“I know it
doesn’t look like much, but trust me,” she whispered, taking out one of the two
laminated menus sandwiched between a ketchup bottle and oversized salt and
pepper shakers. A chrome napkin holder was pushed against the wall, and the
wood of the table was stained and gouged but free of food remnants.

“Lot’s of
comfort food,” he said, reading through the kind of entrees other people’s moms
made when he was a kid: chicken pot pie, macaroni and cheese, beef stew. If he
hadn’t been genuinely hungry before, he was now.

“How’s the
meatloaf?” he asked, using the tried and true method of talking food to put his
dinner companion at ease.

“It’s a pork
and beef combination with bits of veggies and the best gravy you’ll ever
taste,” she said with a little grin. “Coming here is our guilty
treat—Mom’s, Gramp’s, and mine.”

“Why “guilty?”
he asked, enjoying the moment more than he could’ve imagined.

“Because Mama
cooks with real butter, lard in the pie crust, and all kinds of things that
aren’t supposed to be good for you.” She laughed softly. “Gramps says it tastes
so good, it must be sinful. He’s just kidding, of course.”

“I was really
impressed with your grandfather’s sermon Sunday. I’ve thought a lot about what
the Sawyer family can do to help the town and especially the less fortunate.
I’d like to do more pro bono work than we do, maybe even open a storefront
office where people will feel more comfortable coming to us—well, to me.
My father is pretty much tied up with his regular clients, tax law and stuff
like that.”

“Pro bono?
Does that mean helping people for free?”

“Yes.” Why had
he brought up his idea with Annie? He hadn’t even mentioned it to his father
yet, but it was on his mind a lot. Sawyer and Sawyer spent too much time
helping well-to-do people with monetary problems when there was a world of hurt
outside their offices.

“That sounds
wonderful!” she said.

He felt a foot
taller under Annie’s approving gaze, not noticing the bulky man in a white
apron who came up to the table.

“Hi, Mama,”
Annie said in a cheerful voice. “What do you have left tonight? Any macaroni
and cheese?”

“Sorry, Annie.
I have one serving of shepherd’s pie, or I can make a grilled cheese or a BLT.”

“Grilled cheese
for me. You haven’t tasted anything as good as Mama’s sandwiches,” she told
Nathan enthusiastically.

“Make it two,”
Nathan said, then asked her what she’d like to drink.

“Mama?” he
asked in a soft voice when the large bald-headed man walked through the
swinging doors to the kitchen.

“His name is
Maeleachlainn Maksimilan Kelly,” as close as I can pronounce it. I guess his
parents went overboard finding ethnic Irish and Greek names, so Mama it is. My
children’s names are going to be easy to spell and pronounce.”

“Your
children?” he teased with a grin. “You have names picked out already?”

“Not exactly.”
He loved it when she blushed. “First I have to make a success of my flower
shop.”

“Do you know
what’s involved in running it?” As soon as he asked, he knew he sounded too
much like an attorney.

“I took a two
-year business course at the community college, and I’ve been gardening since I
could see over the tops of my mother’s flowers.”

He’d put her
on the defensive, and it was the last thing he wanted.

“Sorry, I
didn’t mean to be critical. I have a feeling you can accomplish anything you
set out to do—even getting along with my aunt.” He meant it sincerely.

“She’s not
that difficult,” Annie said. “Just lonely and worried about getting old. I
can’t imagine losing a home and leaving all my friends. She was so happy when
she got a phone call from someone she knew in high school.”

“She likes
you,” Nathan said. “But then, who wouldn’t.”

There was more
he wanted to say, but this wasn’t the time or the place. Would there ever be a
right moment? Did he know what he was doing here? The last thing he wanted was
to hurt Annie in any way, but she was giving him ideas he hadn’t seriously
considered before.

“So what did
the two of you do all day?” he asked, needing to change the subject.

He listed with
rapt attention as Annie told him about cleaning drawers and buying contact
paper. She was alternately funny and sympathetic to his aunt, and he wondered
why he’d had reservations about hiring her. She was the perfect companion for
Mattie.

“Here you are,
folks,” Mama said, putting large platters and oversized glasses of iced tea in
front of them as Nathan realized they were now the only customers in the
restaurant.

“I wasn’t
expecting a full dinner,” he said appreciatively as he picked up a French fry
from a huge mound beside onion rings and a cup of slaw.

“It looks
great,” Annie said when Mama asked if everything was okay before walking back
to the kitchen.

“Why didn’t I know
about this place?” Nathan asked after biting into a cheese sandwich on thick
Italian bread deep fat fried until the sharp cheddar was deliciously melted.

He knew the
answer. It was a dive in anyone’s book and not on the Sawyer’s list of approved
hangouts. It was past time for him to branch out from under his parents’ large
shadow. In law school he’d fully intended to practice anywhere but in Westover,
but his father had convinced him to join the family firm, using his age and
extensive clientele as reasons.

They lingered
until Mama locked the front door, but Nathan still didn’t feel ready to end the
evening. He put his hand on Annie’s shoulder as they walked out to his car,
surprised by how fragile she felt under his touch.

She was quiet
on the drive to her house, perhaps overcome by fatigue, given her long day. He
wanted to make life easier for her but was at a loss to sort out the
complicated feelings whirling around in his head.

He walked
Annie to her front door, still reluctant to let her go.

“Thank you for
the meal. I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” she said.

“I hope Aunt
Mattie didn’t try to feed you leftover egg salad for lunch.”

“No,” she said
giggling. “She told me you loathe it, but she thinks it’s good for you.”

“That would be
Mattie. Thank you, Annie,” he said impulsively, looking down on her mass of
soft brown curls.

“What for?”

“For being so
nice to Mattie.”

He wanted to
say more, but first he had to be sure of his feelings. Certainly he was
attracted to her, but was it only because she was so refreshingly different
from any woman he’d ever dated? Was it fair to her to pursue a friendship when
he had no intention of committing to a long-term relationship?

She shrugged
off his compliment and opened the door. “See you tomorrow—well, maybe.
Have a nice day in court.”

Walking back
to his car, he replayed their meal together in his head. Had he started
something he might regret, or was this the beginning of something so special it
could change his life forever?

“Did you have
car trouble last night, dear?” Annie’s mother asked at the breakfast table.

“No,” Annie
said, knowing this was her mother’s indirect way of asking why she’d been late
getting home.

“Oh, I just
wondered. I thought I heard you come in, but maybe I was dreaming. Anyway, I
worry about your VW. You know you’re welcome to drive my car. I always walk to
work in the summer.”

“If I rains, I
can drive you,” Gramps reminded her, dishing up scrambled eggs on both their
plates.

“Don’t worry,
Mom. When I buy the flower shop, I’ll have the delivery van to get around.”

“How’s it going
at the Sawyers’?” her grandfather asked, sitting down to join them.

“Okay, I
guess. Mattie keeps me busy. She’s having me clean all the cupboards and
drawers in the kitchen. I guess it entertains her to find jobs I can do.”