When Bertie and Sophie walked through the front door, Annie was having a heart-to-heart conversation with her register.
“Damn machine, Charlie promised me you’d be easy to work. Should have known better; an old woman like myself investing in a new cash register, what a foolish idea!”
“Having problems Annie,” asked Bertie.
“Yeah, you could say that. I can’t get this thing to work. There are too many buttons. I’ve had it.”
Frustrated, Annie stood back from the register and grabbed the kitchen towel from the counter. Imagining it was the computer she was strangling, Annie twisted and pulled the towel until her hands were sweaty. Tossing the towel back on the counter she said, “I’m calling Charlie and have him pick this monstrosity up before I drop kick it across the street. I want my old machine back.”
“Want us to help,” said Sophie.
“Would you? That would be great. I’ve been keeping written accounts since last night and don’t see the point of continuing when my old machine is in the back closet. Let me show you where it is. You know, I should never have allowed Charlie to poke his nose in my business. I’m too old for this nonsense.”
“You’re not old Annie, just wise beyond your years,” said Sophie with a twinkle in her eye. “I hate computers too. Ask Bertie. If our computer at the bookstore goes nuts, I can’t do a thing with it.”
“She’s right Annie. Sophie’s hopeless when it comes to computers. She’s 30 years old and only knows how to turn it on. But that’s not surprising; she can’t work her T.V. remote either.”
“Shut up Bertie.”
With a quick twist of her torso, Sophie turned and flipped Bertie off.
“I saw that,” said Annie smiling.
Annie watched as the two girls worked to rid her of the new register. Close since high school, Sophie and Bertie were more like sisters than best friends. Without each other Bertie wouldn’t have made it through her mother’s passing, and now with Sophie in remission for cancer, the two were perfectly matched.
Annie looked at the girls and said, “You two never plan on growing up, do you?”
“Nope,” said Bertie
“Never,” chimed Sophie.
“Hey Annie,” said Bertie as nonchalant as possible, “that guy who came in here earlier, what’s his story?”
“Why, what’s it to you,” said Annie.
Bertie and Sophie surprised by Annie’s response stuttered, “We were just wondering that's all.”
They turned around and focused on setting up Annie’s cash register when she said, “Just kidding girls. A good looking man like that rolls into town, I’d ask too. Well, I don’t know much but he’s renting my spare apartment upstairs. He doesn’t talk about himself, and I do know he owns a dog. Other than that, I think he mentioned opening some sort of security business. I’m figuring he has a military background because he acts like my Arthur did--God rest his soul--when he came home from the Korean War and was stationed at Ft. Bragg.”
“Oh, well that’s something to go on. Do you mind if I ask one more question,” said Bertie.
“No, of course not my dear, just spit it out.”
“His name, what is it?”
Annie let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before responding and then said, “His name is Jack Ferguson.”
