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  Annie’s Answer

  By Pam Andrews Hanson

  Text copyright © 2013 Pam Andrews Hanson

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any form is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  To Holly Jacobs, who’s always cheerful

  Table of Contents

  Annie’s Answer By Pam Andrews Hanson

  Dear Reader,

  Kindle Originals by Pam Andrews Hanson

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader,After 30 plus books with conventional publishers, I’m pleased to announce that we are now writing original inspirational romance stories as Kindle Original e-books.

  My mother, Barbara Andrews, and I have written a wide range of women’s fiction together for nearly 20 years. We also write for Guideposts’ fiction program.

  You can connect with other readers by ‘liking’ me on Facebook at my official author page: https://www.facebook.com/pamandrewshanson

  Also, I blog about family, faith, and aging not so gracefully at http://pamshanson.blogspot.com. Please stop by to say hello!

  All the best,

  Pam Andrews Hanson

  Kindle Originals by Pam Andrews Hanson

  Faith, Fireworks and Fir

  The Gift of Hope

  Annie’s Answer

  Chapter 1

  “This could be the answer to my prayers,” Annie Williams said, reading through the classified ad she’d just taken from her in-box at the Weekly News, Westover, Ohio’s, only newspaper.

  “What on earth do you want with another job?” Marge Owens, the business manager asked. “How many do you have already?”

  “Three,” Annie admitted, “but I only work in the church office as a volunteer. She brushed her dark brown bangs to the side of her forehead, remembering she had to get her mother to trim them soon or she’d have hair in her eyes like Foo Foo, the Shih Tzu dog she’d walked every day when she was in middle school.

  “I hope you’re not thinking of quitting here,” Marge said with a worried frown. “Our revenue has gone up eleven percent since you started selling ads for us. I wish we could take you on full time, but you know how it is.”

  Annie nodded her understanding. Making a go of a small town weekly wasn’t easy, but her salary here and at Yum Yum Pancakes were nowhere enough to make her dream come true.

  “I can call on our advertisers whenever I have a little spare time,” she assured Marge.

  “You don’t know the meaning of spare time,” her boss said, frowning over the top of the wire framed glasses that usually perched on the end of her nose.

  Since her fiftieth birthday, Marge had become age-conscious, dyeing her salt-and-pepper hair a deep auburn shade and working out at Westover’s only health club five mornings a week. She owned the struggling weekly with her husband, Ted, who served as editor and reporter.

  “But I’m so close,” Annie said, not needing to explain her urgent need for more income.

  Annie knew she took on too much, but the clock was running out on achieving her dream. For at least half of her twenty-six years she’d wanted to own a flower shop. Now her goal was in sight: Shirley and Bill Polk planned to retire and sell Westover’s only florist business. They’d promised to give Annie until Labor Day to come up with a sizeable down payment, or they’d be forced to list it with a realtor. She was close, so close, but neither her widowed mother nor her grandfather, a retired minister, qualified to cosign a bank loan.

  “If you need a little help….”

  Annie shook her head, rejecting another offer from Marge. She knew what a struggle it was to keep the newspaper going. Anyway, she had almost enough in her savings account to swing the deal, and she didn’t believe the Lord would let her fail after so many years of scrimping and saving. Whenever she got discouraged, she daydreamed about the lovely floral arrangements she would make for the church altar and special occasions like weddings.

  She reread the classified ad:

  “Wanted: Temporary companion for elderly woman. Part-time, daytime hours. Some cooking and light housekeeping.”

  There was a number to call.

  “Before you get too excited, you should know who brought the ad to our office,” Marge said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Annie assured her. “It’s only a temporary job.”

  “It was Bonnie Johnson,” Marge said in a warning tone.

  “She works for….”

  “Sawyer and Sawyer.”

  “Oh.” Annie knew the Sawyers by sight, since the father and son both attended her church, but she had to admit the attorneys intimidated her. Not only were they descendents of the town’s founding fathers, they had to be the richest family in the area.

  “Do you think they want help for Mrs. Sawyer?” Annie had always been in awe of the wife and mother of the two Sawyers. She dressed in designer clothes and spent as much time away as she did in Westover.

  “Not likely,” Marge said. “Last I heard she and her husband were in Europe, leaving their son, Nathan, to handle the law firm.”

  “That’s a relief,” Annie said. “I get nervous just saying good morning to her when I’m a greeter at church.”

  “No need to be,” Marge said in a stern voice. “Last I heard we got rid of royalty in this country a few hundred years ago.”

  “Well, do you mind if I answer the ad before it comes out in the paper?” Annie asked.

  “I don’t think you need more work, especially not with your long evening hours at Yum Yum Pancakes, but it’s okay with me. The ad came in too late for this week’s issue, so you have a good chance at getting the job if you really want it.”

  I don’t want it. I need it, Annie thought, knowing a good paycheck could tip the balance in favor of buying the flower shop. It was early June, and she still had a chance to increase her savings enough to swing the deal.

  She waited to make the call until Marge went to her office at the rear of the building and closed the door. One of the luxuries she denied herself was a cell phone, so she hurriedly called the number in the advertisement using the newspaper’s landline.

  “Sawyer and Sawyer,” a professional sounding woman’s voice said. “How may I help you.”

  “I’m answering the ad for a companion,” Annie said, embarrassed because her voice cracked with nervousness. Of all the people in town she might work for, the Sawyers were the most off-putting. What would such a prominent family expect of an employee, however temporary?

  “Oh, yes,” the receptionist said. “Mr. Sawyer is eager to fill the position. Let me check his calendar.”

  It only took her a minute to get back on the phone, but it was long enough for Annie to have serious doubts about interviewing for the job. After all, she wasn’t a nurse or any other kind of caregiver. Maybe she was overreaching herself by trying to get a job as a companion.

  “Mr. Sawyer can see you at four fifteen.
Will that be satisfactory.”

  “Yes, thank you. Should I come to your offices?”

  “Of course, and please do be prompt. Mr. Sawyer has a dinner engagement, so if you’re late, I’m afraid he won’t be here. May I have your name?”

  “Annie Williams. I’ll be there on time, I promise.”

  Had that sounded too childish? She’d applied for jobs many times in the last ten years, but none of the interviews had made her this uneasy. Was it because the Sawyer family was so prominent? Or maybe it was because Nathan Sawyer was drop-dead gorgeous and by far the most eligible bachelor in Westover. Either way, she would be happy when the interview was over, whether she got the job or not.

  She checked her wristwatch, a gift from her grandfather when she graduated from high school. Fortunately it still kept good time, since she was on a tight schedule even without adding another job to her responsibilities.

  Calculating how long it would take her to drive home in her aging, rust-pocked VW, change into her waitress uniform, go to the downtown office of the Sawyers’, and still get to Yum Yum Pancakes by five, she had a moment of panic. Her boss at the restaurant was a fanatic about being on time, and she couldn’t afford to lose one job while she was trying to get another.

  Her uniform! She had to wear it. There wouldn’t be time to change between the interview and starting her shift at the restaurant. Hurrying out to her car, she wished it would rain. That would give her a reason to cover the uniform with a raincoat, but there wasn’t a cloud in sight in the bright blue June sky.

  The drive home was short, but the car was one convenience she couldn’t do without. Her life was a whirlwind of activity rushing from her volunteer job to paid ones.

  “Hi, Gramps,” she called out when she got to the small brick mid-century ranch house she shared with him and her widowed mother.

  Dwight Bartlett, a retired minister, had lived with them for nearly ten years since giving up his church position, not that he sat around doing nothing. He spent much of his day doing volunteer work, especially calling on members of the congregation who were homebound or in nursing homes.

  “You’re home early,” he said, coming into the front room from the kitchen at the back of the house. “Hope you have time for a bowl of my split pea soup. I made Italian bread to go with it.”

  Gramps had taken up cooking years ago after his wife passed away, and he prided himself on fixing good meals for Annie and her mother, who often worked beyond the dinner hour in her job as a bank teller. He was a small, slender man with thinning white hair, and the delicious dishes he fixed didn’t seem to affect his weight. Annie felt fortunate that the same was true for her, although her mother struggled.

  “I wish I did. I’ll warm a bowl when I get off work,” Annie promised.

  “Ten o’clock at night is no time for supper,” Gramps pointed out in the deep voice honed from years of speaking from the pulpit. “Why such a big hurry? It isn’t even four o’clock.”

  “I have a job interview,” she said, hoping to get to her room without a lengthy explanation.

  “If you weren’t as stubborn as me, you’d let me help you more,” he said in a kindly voice.

  It was an old argument, but Annie had no intention of letting him give her his hard earned pension, not even as a loan. Although he was still healthy and active in his mid-seventies, she refused to use money he might need for health care in the future. Anyway, buying the flower shop was all about being independent, standing on her own two feet.

  “Sorry, Gramps, but I have to change.”

  She hated the thought of wearing the pink polyester uniform to an interview with a Sawyer, especially since she’d bought it second hand from a waitress who was leaving. It was too long and too loose, but she’d just have to explain why she was wearing it.

  When she came downstairs, she felt as unready for a job interview as it was possible to be.

  “What kind of job is it?” Gramps asked before she got to the door.

  “Companion to an older woman. My interview is with Nathan Sawyer,” she explained somewhat reluctantly.

  “A companion?” Her grandfather sounded puzzled.

  “I know I don’t have any qualifications for the job, but how hard can it be? Anyway it would only be temporary.” She’d lived with her grandfather for a long time, but he was too self sufficient to qualify as an elderly person who required care.

  “I guess I have to remember you’re not my little girl anymore,” he said with a wistful smile. “If it’s something you want, I’ll pray you get it.”

  “I appreciate that.” Annie started toward door to leave, but her grandfather stopped her.

  “I buttered some nice hot bread for you,” he said. “You can eat it on the way to work. Don’t want you working until all hours without anything for supper.”

  “Thanks, Gramps,” she said taking the small plastic bag, although her stomach was doing summersaults over the upcoming interview.

  What would it be like working for the Sawyer family? Did she have a shot at the job, or would she make a fool of herself by applying?

  Annie said a prayer for courage and hurried off to the law offices of Sawyer and Sawyer, hoping the interview wouldn’t be as intimidating as she expected.

  Chapter 2

  “You can leave now, Bonnie,” Nathan said, strolling out to the receptionist’s desk. “There’s no reason for both of us to wait for the applicant.”

  “I appreciate that,” Mr. Sawyer. I have a few errands to do before supper.”

  Nathan smiled as his assistant retrieved her oversized black handbag from a desk drawer and hurried out of the office. Although Bonnie was old enough to be his mother, she firmly refused to call him by his first name. His father had hired her when she finished a secretarial course in her early twenties, and she was nothing if not proper and professional.

  Would he be able to hire someone that competent to keep his great aunt company? He had his doubts.

  Before he could return to his carpeted, wood-paneled office to clear a few things from his desk, the door his clients used opened.

  “Oh,” the young woman said, sounding surprised to see him. “I was expecting to see Mrs. Johnson.”

  “She left for the day,” Nathan said. “I take it you’re here for the interview. Please, come into my office.”

  He led her to the wing chairs placed conversationally around a low teak table, his preferred spot for talking to clients. The big desk tended to intimidate, and he always tried to put people at ease. The woman looked familiar, although he couldn’t immediately place her.

  He managed to find Bonnie’s note on his cluttered desk and found her name: Annie Williams. Of course, she went to the same church he did, although he didn’t really know her.

  “Have a seat, Annie. Can I get you something to drink? I have bottled water or a soft drink,” he said, hoping to put her at ease.

  She looked intimidated and adorable, short and petite with big blue eyes and an elfin face. His first impression was that his great aunt would eat her for breakfast.

  “Thank you, no,” she said more confidently than he’d expected. “I have to apologize for coming in my uniform. I work the evening shift at Yum Yum Pancakes. It leaves me with plenty of time for a day job too.”

  “I’m sure it does,” he said absentmindedly as he tried to see her potential. He’d rather tame lions than spend all day, every day, with his great aunt. Would this fragile looking woman be up to it?

  “Please sit down,” he said since she was looking at the high-backed chair as though it would swallow her up.

  “Thank you.”

  When she was seated, her feet just touched the floor. How had he overlooked such an attractive woman at church? Maybe because his mother insisted the family sit in the third pew from the front on the left, not the best placed to see the rest of the congregation. She was all about family position, and the Sawyers had occupied that row since he was in Sunday school.

  “Let me te
ll you a little about the job,” he said. ‘My great aunt has lived in alone in Iowa since her husband passed away. Since they never had children, it’s fallen to my father to look after her—never easy since she’s always insisted on staying in their farmhouse. The bottom line is, her house was badly damaged by a tornado, and she ended up in the hospital with bruises and a broken ankle.”

  “Oh, that must be so hard when she’s alone,” Annie said sympathetically.

  “She’s not alone anymore,” Nathan said. “My father flew to Iowa in a chartered plane and brought her to our house. Then he and my mother left for the summer.”

  “I see,” she said thoughtfully.

  Odd as it seemed, he believed she did.

  “I’m snowed under running the practice while my father is gone. I need someone to keep my great aunt company during the week. I don’t know exactly what it will involve. I have a nurse checking on her from time to time, but she needs companionship as much as medical care.”

  “She must hate being away from the home she’s known so long,” Annie said.

  “I’m not sure what will happen, but for now I’m caught in the middle. My father wants his aunt to be happy, but she’s my responsibility this summer. I’m afraid my mother isn’t keen on living with her when she gets back from her European vacation, but we’re not sure whether Aunt Mattie’s house can or should be rebuilt.” He hadn’t intended telling this much about the situation, but he gave Annie Williams a high score for sympathetic listening. “Let me ask you, do you have any experience at all working with older people?”

  “There’s senior discount day at the pancake house,” she said with a faint laugh. “Sometimes it takes longer to wait on a pair of older people than a family of six.”

  “I guess that qualifies as experience,” he said a bit doubtfully.