No Way Out by Fern Michaels

Author:Fern Michaels [Michaels, Fern]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-12-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

Andy wasn’t sure if he was happy about the house next door being sold and having to get to know new neighbors. It had been vacant for almost a year, and he had gotten used to the quiet. The woman on his left never left her house, so that was also a plus. At least it was as far as he was concerned.

He shuffled to the kitchen, easing past the piles of newspapers. He had to walk sideways to get from one room to another. He was beginning to think that maybe he should call someone to help him go through his things. But he had no idea what was in the house. He couldn’t see anything over the piles of newspapers. He knew there was a vast collection of silver in the cherry dining-room cabinet, but he hadn’t seen the front of the cabinet in, well, he couldn’t remember when.

He boiled a cup of water in his microwave, the only appliance, other than the refrigerator, that worked. He tossed in some instant coffee and milk. Once he had finished the poor excuse for a cup of coffee, he hobbled back to his bedroom to get dressed. He knew he should probably get dressed before he made his coffee, but then he would have to fill in the time he’d save from making the trip back. That was another problem: he had too much free time on his hands despite knowing that he didn’t really have much time at all. It was depressing.

He took out a freshly pressed, button-down shirt and slacks. That was another part of his routine—going to the dry cleaner’s every other week. His house might have been an unsightly mess, but he refused to be one. No one would ever think he was a hoarder based on the way he presented himself in public. When it came to dressing himself, he always looked quite dashing.

Before he had retired and opened his antiques shop, Andy had worked for a fine department store in St. Louis. He started as a tailor for the rich women who would come in for fittings. It was back in the day, when they would come in by appointment and sit in a lounge area as models came out, one by one, to show off the latest styles. Once the customer picked out the style she wanted, Andy would either tailor the dress to fit or make one from the vast selection of fabric the store kept in its tailoring shop.

At age sixty-five, when his eyesight was failing, he decided to leave the world of fashion, move to a small town, and open an antiques shop in a space that he rented for practically nothing. With all of the connections he had made working at the department store, he had a nice list of people who would become his clientele. They would venture out to the country on weekends and visit his shop, browsing the big and small finds Andy had accumulated during the early part of the week.

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