Previously Loved Treasures (Serendipity #2)(7)
The dubious look remained on Ida’s face. “Okay, so you charge me five dollars, and I give the bed a good home. Then what? You charge two hundred for delivery?”
“Delivery’s free.”
“Free?” Ida thought back on how Big Jim always said, You get what you pay for, and she searched her mind for what the catch might be but could not find one. Again she clarified the terms. “So this is a one-time payment of five dollars, and you deliver the bed free?”
Peter nodded. “That’s the deal, Missus Sweetwater.”
“How’d you know my name?”
“I make it my business to know the names of people in town.”
Ida could feel a ball of suspicion pushing against her chest, but she was torn between heeding such a warning and wanting the bed. After several more questions, she followed Peter Pennington inside the store, pulled five dollars from her purse, and paid cash for the bed. As she turned to leave, the funny-looking little man said, “I think you might also need a picture for that room.”
“Picture?”
“Yes.” He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a framed photograph of a young man. “This one.”
“Ha. Seems your ‘read the need’ is no longer working. I have no need of a picture like that.”
“Oh, but you do,” Pennington assured her. “You just don’t know it yet.”
Ida laughed so hard her belly bounced. “Well, when I figure out what I need it for, I’ll be back,” she said and left the store still chuckling.
On the way home Ida again found herself singing along with the radio. Peter P. Pennington was indeed a strange little man, but despite the suspicions picking at her she liked him. And the rosewood bed was every bit as beautiful as the burgundy sofa she had let go.
And Then They Were Five
Late in the afternoon a van pulled into Ida Sweetwater’s driveway. There was no name on the side of the van, and it was painted a shade of green that made it almost invisible when it rolled to a stop alongside the azalea bushes. With flickers of sun bouncing off the grill, even the letters of the license plate disappeared into nothingness. Peter Pennington stepped out, still wearing his three-piece black suit. When he spotted Ida standing at the door, he announced, “I’ve come to deliver your bed.”
“By yourself?” He was a small man and not one she would have thought capable of lifting a bed of such heft.
Pennington nodded, circled around to the back of the van, and hauled out the rosewood headboard. He carried it as though it was made of nothing more than balsa wood. After setting it down in what was once the sitting room, he returned to the van for the other pieces.
When he came through the door with a mattress wrapped in plastic, obviously fresh from the factory, the first thing that popped into Ida’s head was You get what you pay for.
“I didn’t buy a mattress,” she said.
“It’s included.”
“Included? That mattress is new, never before slept on—it’s not a previous loved anything. It’s brand new!”
Pennington ignored the comment and circled the bed, making certain the latches were latched and the set up was sturdy. Once he was satisfied that everything was as it should be, he thanked Ida for her business and started to leave. He had one foot out the door when he turned back and said, “I think you need that picture to finish off this room.”
Although she was delighted with the beautiful bed, a blunt needle of suspicion still prickled Ida. “No, thanks,” she said and closed the door before he had the chance to explain why she needed the picture.
After the van disappeared down the driveway, Ida called three of her neighbors. Not one of them had ever seen or shopped at the Previously Loved Treasures store. Nina Mae, a woman whose husband had grown rich selling used cars with faulty engines, said, “It sounds like that Mister Pennington is up to no good.” She advised Ida to make certain her doors and windows were locked when she went to bed for the night.
~
For three days and nights Ida remained in the house with all of the doors and windows locked tight. On the second day Maxwell went down to the Owl’s Nest after dinner, and when he returned hours after midnight he had to pound on the door for a good twenty minutes before Ida answered. When she finally opened the door he was snorting like an angry bull.
“You locked me out!” he steamed.
“I didn’t do it intentionally,” Ida said. “I was just being cautious.”
“Cautious about what?” Without really expecting an answer he started down the hall, listing to the right after his evening of drink.
“Burglars,” Ida said to his back. “Burglars and shifty swindlers.”
Max stopped and turned around. “Ha. In Rose Hill? Not likely.” After that he stumbled into his room and fell asleep still wearing the day’s clothes.
The next day Ida drove down to the hardware store and had six keys made. She gave one to Max and one to Harriet Chowder. The remainder would be for new guests when she added them.
~
After the transformation of the sitting room was complete, Ida stepped back and admired it. The five-dollar rosewood bed was a thing of beauty, making this room by far the nicest in the house. This room had to be for someone special. For this room she would charge forty-five dollars a week.