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Subject: {ASSM} AnnD"A Place To Call Home"MF,FF(1/5)
Date: Wed, 12 Jan 2000 22:10:03 -0500
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	A Place To Call Home
	by Ann Douglas
            (ann_douglas@hotmail.com)

       (From A Suggestion By MordMorgan)

 Winner Of The Ann Douglas Story Suggestion Contest

Part  One

	Alexandra Mays was a wanderer.  Like in
the song of old, she roamed from town to town,
never staying in one place for very long, never
setting down roots.  After finishing her first year
of college, Alex as she liked to be called, came to
the realization that she needed something more in
her life than three more years of academia. So she
packed up what there was of her personal
possessions, tossed them in the van that her Uncle
had bought her, and hit the road.
	Her Uncle John had raised Alex after the
death of her parents when she was seven.  John
Mays was a life long bachelor, ill prepared for the
needs of a growing girl.  Still, the master
contractor did what he could, giving her all the
love in his heart and teaching her all that he knew.
By the time Alex had graduated high school, she
had learned every aspect of her Uncle's business.
Starting at the bottom of the ladder, she'd worked
as a  carpenter, a painter, a landscaper, plumber,
and an electrician.
	Two months before the end of that first
year of college, John Mays suffered a heart attack.
It had been the fifty-nine year olds third and had
been followed a few weeks later by a fourth and
final coronary.  Alex lost any interest in school
after that, deciding to hit the road for a while and
find herself.  Her inheritance from her Uncle's
estate, coupled with what she made working as a
Jill of all trades was enough for her to get by.
There would be plenty of time to go back and get
the education her Uncle wanted her to get, she
told herself.  That had been five years ago.

	The sign off the county road had said the
town was called Danversville.  Named no doubt,
the twenty-four year old brunette thought, after
some long ago founding family. At first glance, it
seemed no different than any of the half dozen
towns she'd already visited this year.  A sleepy
Main Street with a pharmacy, movie theater, a
small library and other assorted infrastructure.
There was no particular reason why she picked
this town to drive through. There never was.  Life
was more of an adventure that way.
	Halfway down Main Street just before the
Police Station and Courthouse that dominated the
small town square, Alex spotted what she was
looking for.  Past experience had taught her that
the local hardware store was usually the best place
to get a line on any possible jobs in the area.  Sure
enough, there was a large cork bulletin board near
the counter, upon which were a small number of
help wanted notes.
	Alex moved up to the counter where the
clerk was busy doing her nails.  It took her a few
tries to get the bleached blonde's attention.  She
finally looked up from the magazine she was
reading at the same time and asked if she could
help the brunette.
	"I was wondering if you knew of any
contractor jobs in the area?"  Alex said with a
smile as she leaned over and took note of the
magazine the girl had been reading.  She wasn't
surprised to find it was the usual tabloid trash.
	"Contractor jobs?"  the girl in the low cut
sun dress repeated.
	"You know, electrical work, carpentry,
painting, that sort of thing."  Alex went on to
explain.
	"Well I don't know,"  she said as she
looked over Alex, her face making no secret of
her disapproval of Alex's short haircut and unisex
dress.
	 The older girl just shrugged it off.  When
you spent as much time traveling as  she did, you
learned to dress as comfortably as possible.
	 "You have to look and see what's up on
the board.  I think that Mike...  I mean Mr.
Zalman put up something new there yesterday.
Not sure what it was about, but I think I saw old
lady Crawford's name on it.  She bought the old
Gallagher place last year and that always needs
some kind of work done on it."
	"Thanks, you've been a big help."  Alex
said with a touch of sarcasm as she turned her
attention to the board. She was sure it was lost on
the girl who was already back at her magazine.
	With only a half dozen notices, Alex
quickly found the one in question. She had just
finished reading it when she felt someone
approach behind her.  She turned to find a slightly
overweight man in his late forties standing behind
her.
	"Hello, I'm Mitchell Zalman."  he said as
he also took stock of the young woman.  "My
wife and I own this store.  Wendy, that's our
cashier over there, said that you were interested in
any contractor work hereabouts."
	"That's right." Alex said, all too aware of
his eyes on her breasts.  "She said something
about a Ms. Crawford need some help."
	"Don't get many women in these parts
doing that sort of work."  Mr. Zalman said, trying
to get a better look down her blouse.
	"Well I'm not exactly from these parts, Mr.
Zalman."  Alex said as she reached back and
pulled the notice off the wall.  "And trust me,
there are few contracting jobs that I can't handle."
	She went on to list a few of her
qualifications and references.  The store owner
couldn't help but be impressed.
	"Please call me Mike,"  he said with a
friendly smile.  "Everyone does.  I can't really tell
you what the job would cover.  Marilyn Crawford
is a pretty private person.  Way I reckon, she
really wasn't too happy about posting the ad to
begin with."
	Noting that there wasn't any number or
address on the notice, Alex asked if Mr. Zalman
had the information.  A little reluctantly, he pulled
a small piece of paper from out of his wallet.  Ms.
Crawford had asked him to give it to any qualified
respondents.
	Holding the address and phone with the
original ad, Alex asked for directions to the old
Gallagher place.  She thanked the hardware man,
and started to leave.  Alex was almost out the
door when Mike called out after her.
	"If you don't get the job, you just come
back and see old Mike here." he said.  "I'm sure I
could find a place for someone of your skills."
	Alex smiled and again thanked Mr.
Zalman.  From the furious glances from the
helpful girl behind the counter, she could imagine
the kind of skills Mike Zalman looked for in the
hired help.  She imagined that Mrs. Zalman didn't
come down to the store much.

	Climbing back into her ten year old land
rover, Alex smiled at the little episode back in the
store.  The twenty four year old was used to being
the object of attention of both men and women.
She stood just a shade under five six and her
chosen profession the last half decade had left her
with a trim, muscular build.  Coupled with her
short sun-streaked brown hair, it produced a
striking look.
	As she drove through town, following the
directions she'd been given, Alex wondered what
this prospective job might entail.  Also what her
prospective employer might be like as well.  From
what had been painted so far by Mike and Wendy,
Ms. Crawford was undoubtedly some eccentric
little old lady who valued her privacy.  Every town
seemed to have at least one.  Living in an old
house, she must have at least a half dozen little
jobs that needed doing.  At least Alex hoped so.
	Turning down the street, she spotted the
house at the end of the block.  It reminded her of
a similar one she'd worked on a few years back.
That had belonged to a married couple in their
sixties.  Nice people she remembered, she had
worked for them for almost a month.

	When she pulled up front, Alex saw that
the house was larger than it had first appeared.
Larger, and a lot older.  If she had to guess, she
would put it as early 1900's.  One thing did
seem out of place on the Victorian era house
were the two satellite dishes mounted on the roof.
There also seemed to be some additional power
lines run into the second floor as well.
	"I guess some people just can't live
without their HBO." Alex mused as she started
up the long walk.
	She pressed the doorbell and waited.
After getting no response, she tried the old door
knocker instead.  It made a loud booming
sound.
	"Guess the doorbell is one of the things
that needs fixing." she thought as she waited.
	A few moments later, the sound of
footsteps behind the door became loud enough
to hear.

	When the door swung open, Alex found
that her assumptions about Ms. Crawford were
way off the mark.  Assuming of course that this
was the owner of the house standing in the
doorway.  A full figured woman who stood half a
head taller than Alex, she had a bust that drew
immediate attention.   Raven black hair with just a
trace of gray streamed down her back.  Alex
would put her age in her mid thirties but would
later be surprised that Ms. Crawford was two
months shy of forty-three. Even in the plain
sweatsuit she was wearing, the woman
exuded a sense of poise and elegance.

	"Good morning,"  the older woman said
with a smile that if anything, made her seem
even younger.  "Can I help you?"

	"I think that was supposed to be my
line,"  Alex replied with an equally warm smile.
"My name is Alex May and I'm here about the
ad you posted in the hardware store."
	"Well that was quick,"  she said as her
face seemed to beam even brighter.  Please
come in. I'll have to ask you to excuse the
mess, I really wasn't expecting anyone today.
No, that’s really not true, the house would
probably be just as messy if I knew you were
coming.   I'm Marilyn Crawford, by the way, but
I'm sure you've already figured that out for
yourself."
	As Alex followed Marilyn into a large
cluttered living room, she had to admit their
introduction had gone pretty well.  No comments
about how surprising it was to have a young
woman applying for the position. More often than
not, Alex spent much of an introduction just
convincing people that she was serious.
	Marilyn cleared some of the books piled
on the sofa so that she and Alex could sit down.
	"I tend to take books off the shelf and
forget to put them back,"  Marilyn apologized as
she sat next to the younger woman.  "Anyway,
down to business.  I'm sure you want to know
what the jobs all about."
	Alex nodded in response. She quickly
decided she liked this woman.  She listened
intently as Marilyn explained what she was
looking for.
	"I moved here about year ago to get
away from the insane asylum were I used to
work."  She began.  "Most people seem to grow
up in small towns and can't wait to move to the
big city. I was the reverse.  Grew up in probably
the busiest city in the world and against all the
odds wound up in the top of my field.  Made a
lot of money, but it was 24/7 existence.  Not
much time for a personal life or anything else."
	Marilyn paused for a breath as a far
away look filled her face for a moment.  She
seemed to be thinking of someplace, or
someone else.
	"Then one day my world seemed to
come crashing down. I had a friend, an
associate actually.  No, make that a friend, she
deserves to be remembered that way.  Anyway,
one day the pressure got to be too much and
she stepped in front of a cross-town bus.  I've
never been able to decide if she was just too
tired or preoccupied to know what she was doing,
or if she just lost it and didn't care anymore.
Either way, if I didn't take that as a wakeup call, I
don't know what else would be."
	Marilyn paused a second time, noting
that she was going on and on and had totally
forgotten her manners.
	"Would you like something to drink?"
she asked.
	"No I'm fine." Alex responded.
	"Well to get to the point,"  she went on.
"I needed to make a change in my life, a big
change or else one of these days I might be the
one under a bus."
	"How did you wind up here, if I might
ask?"
	"Well most of the people around here
think I'm the crazy city lady who was stupid
enough to buy the old Gallagher place,"  Marilyn
grinned. "Truth is, I'm a Gallagher on my
mother's side and the house belongs to a
cousin.  He's been trying to sell it for years and
was happy to practically give it to me.  I had the
major work the place needed done by some big
contractors, enough to make the place livable
at least.  That and a few modifications to let me
continue the work I used to do, at least on a
smaller scale."
	"I noticed the satellite dishes and the
extra power line outside.  What kind of work do
you do Ms. Crawford, if I might ask?"
	Of course you might, it's nothing
clandestine or anything like that."  she laughed.
"I'm what's called a freelance market analyst.  I
do demographic and psychographic studies for
companies, as well as acquisitions analysis.
The latter part usually consists of identifying
where good markets are and if any small
suppliers exist that are ripe for purchase."
	"I have no idea what any of that
means,"  Alex said.  "So I guess I'll just take
your word that you're good at what you do."
	"Well I was good enough for a great
many of my clients to still want to have me work
for them, even if I'm no longer close enough to
actually meet with any of them.  That’s the
wonder of this age of telecommunications. I can
do my job just as easily a thousand miles away
as I could when my office was just a few blocks
away.  Of course I've scaled down my workload
somewhat.  I make less, but now I find I have
time for other interests.  All in all, I think it's a
fair trade off."
	"Not that I haven't found all of this very
interesting, Ms. Crawford,"  Alex said as politely
as she could.  "But I'm still not exactly sure what
you might want to hire me for."
	"You're right, I have been rambling on,
haven't I?"  she laughed.  "l really don't have a
lot of visitors out here and I guess I just got
carried away a little.  I like my solitude, but
sometimes I miss having a real person to talk
to. At least one not on a computer screen.  Not
many of the locals are interested in what I do,
but judging from your accent you're not exactly a
local yourself are you?"
	"No, I'm not a local."  Alex replied.
	"Well, what I'm looking for is someone
who can fix some of the little things around
here, as well as help restore some of the beauty
of this old house.  I could have some big outfit
come in, but I really don't want to turn this place
into a work zone.  I'd much rather have the work
done a little more slowly and still maintain my
privacy.  Do you think you could handle that?"
	"I'm sure I could," Alex said as she
reached into the small red backpack she had
been carrying when she came in.  "I have a few
letters of recommendation and a list of ..."
	"I've always considered myself a pretty
good judge of people,"  Marilyn interrupted. "You
can hold onto those.  What say we try it for a
week and see how it goes?"
	"Sounds fine to me,"  Alex said.  "But I
should tell you that I really don't usually stay in
one place too long.  I'm the type of person who
likes to stay on the move."
	"Well, like I said, lets give it a week and
see how it goes.  Then we'll take it a week at a
time if everything works out. That sound fair to
you?"
	"I think we have a deal."  Alex smiled
and reached out her hand.
	"One thing though," the older woman
said.  "My mother was Ms. Crawford, I'd rather
you call me Marilyn."
	"Okay, Marilyn."  Alex replied.
	"Have you found a place to stay in town
yet?"  Marilyn asked.
	"Well as long as the weather stays nice,
I usually just camp out in my van."  the younger
woman said.
	"Well we can forget about that,"  Marilyn
said.  "Not while I have four empty bedrooms.
We'll just considered it one of the perks of the
job."
	"You won't get any argument from
me."  Alex said, thinking how nice it would be to
sleep in a real bed for a change.
	"Well it looks like all we have to decide
is where you should start."  Marilyn said.
	"Might I suggest the doorbell?"  Alex
said.
	Marilyn laughed.  "I knew I was making
the right decision in hiring you."



(missing parts may be found at)

Ann Douglas Web Page

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Ann_Douglas/www/

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