Here's to You Mrs. Anderson
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“Why are you calling me?” I grumped at my narcissistic ex.
“I thought you’d like to know,” Kalie replied. “You were close to my family. I thought you’d care.”
“I loved your mom, but your father was an abusive asshole.” I said honestly.
“He raised me, provided for my livelihood, and sent me to college,” Kalie reminded me.
“And he beat your mother, or have you forgotten about that. Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he was worth killing.”
“Please Chris, I want you to come to his funeral and so does Mom. It would mean a lot to us.”
“I’ll come, but only to comfort you and Sara,” I retorted. “I certainly won’t be mourning that drunken bastard.”
“Thank you. Not very many people are coming to the memorial,” Kalie sniffed.
“That’s because everyone who knew him feels the same way I do. He was horrible to your mother. When’s the funeral? I’ll have to get someone to cover my shift at the restaurant.”
“Wednesday, at the First Baptist Church at 10:00 a.m.”
“I’m surprised the church would host a memorial for him. They should be afraid the devil will rise up from the pulpit to claim his sorry soul.”
“I know there was bad blood between you and my Dad, but I—”
“Bad blood!” I yelled. “The fricken scum tried to molest me.”
“You broke his nose,” Kalie defended, "and cut off his ear.
“I wanted to cut off his penis,” I said honestly, “but his head got in the way. Look, I’ll be there for you and Sara, but don’t ask me to speak. You wouldn’t want to hear my eulogy for him.
I ended the call, upset that Kalie was dragging me back into her dysfunctional family’s never-ending drama. I wondered if her current girlfriend would be at the funeral. Not that I care. I haven’t seen any of them since I graduated college twelve years ago. The truth is I don’t want Kalie back in my life.
I finished dressing and headed to the restaurant I owned in Bransom, Missouri. I had built it from the ground up. I know the morning manager will already be there. I silently cursed Kalie for making me late. She was already messing up my life.
Kalie had a knack of weaseling her way into one’s life and slowly destroying them. I said a quick prayer to the powers that be thanking them for giving me the strength to keep her out of my life.
“The restaurant manager and my best friend was Ginny Mills, an attractive, intelligent woman that I had met in college. She had been through a lot with me, and I loved her for her loyalty. She and her husband Phil had two daughters and I doted on them. Phil was our meat and potatoes cook. He could whip up any down-home southern meal you could name. I was the head chef and had the responsibility for our signature dishes and famous desserts.
The restaurant has grown to the point that we are looking for one more great cook. I have visions of expanding and buying the vacant building next to ours. I have saved half the amount needed to purchase it, but I’m not in a hurry. The building has been empty for a long time, and no one has shown any interest in it.
“Good morning,” Ginny’s smiling welcome always brightened my day. She tapped her wristwatch. “You’re running late today. Is everything okay?”
I laughed. Ginny knew something was wrong if I was late.
“Kalie’s father died. She is insisting that I attend the funeral.”
“Oh Chris, I hope you told her no. That woman is pure evil.”
“I know, but I am going for her mother. Sara was the only one who took me under her wing and helped me through the sorrow of losing my Mom two months before my eighteenth birthday. She kept me out of the hands of Child Protective Services, so I owe her a lot.”
“When’s the funeral?”
“Wednesday. I will drive down Tuesday morning and back right after the service.”
“I’m glad to know you won’t be staying long enough for Kalie to get her talons into you.” Ginny scowled as she aptly compared my ex to a bird of prey.”
I thought about how Mrs. Anderson had stood up to the authorities when they tried to take me from my home during my senior year of high school. Mom had paid off our mortgage ten years earlier when my father died in an industrial accident. The insurance settlement had left her with enough money to pay off all her debts, send me to college, and live comfortably, so there was no reason for me to move into some stranger’s home.
Mrs. Anderson told the social worker she was my aunt and would be living with me. Since she was next door it was easy to call her to my house whenever the social worker made a surprise visit. After I turned eighteen, they left me alone. A stab of guilt hit my heart as I realized I have not been back to see her since Kalie, and I broke up. Twelve years! Where had the time gone?
Chapter 2: Ding Dong, Dick is Dead
I arrived in Moscow, Kansas a little after 4:00 P.M., passing the sign that showed a population of 272. The town was still in its death spiral and dragging out the agony in typical Moscow fashion. I wondered if they would change the number to 271 now that Dick was dead. Ha, I even like the sound of that. Dick was dead. Dead Dick. The only good Dick is a dead Dick, my mind ran away with the joy of Dick’s demise.
I checked into the only bed and breakfast in town and asked where the best restaurant was. “The Grub Grab, two blocks down,” the perky teen running my credit card informed me. “You here for the football game?”
“Um no.” I answered, signing my receipt, and handing it back to her. I walked outside and wondered just how awful a place named the Grub Grab could be.
I walked two blocks and entered a dingy little hole in the wall. Red and white plastic tablecloths covered the half-dozen tables and a flashing beer sign hung behind the counter. I selected a table farthest from the door. The woman running the counter yelled, “You want a menu?” as she held it out to me.
I walked to the counter and ordered a hamburger with fries because that looked like the least lethal thing on the menu. “And a Dr Pepper,” I added.
I pulled out my phone and texted Kalie that I was in town. My phone started ringing immediately. “Where are you?” She yelled in my ear.
“The Grub Grab. I didn’t have breakfast and I am hungry after my drive. I will be at your mom’s place as soon as I finish eating.”
She hung up without a word. I looked at my watch and gave her five minutes before she charged through the door.
“He blondie,” the woman behind the bar waved at me. “You burger’s ready.” She slid it toward the front of the counter.
I walked to her and picked up the tray holding my food and drink. “You ain’t from around here,” she noted.
“Nope,” I answered and walked back to my table. I wanted to eat in silence and had no desire to make small talk with anyone.
I miscalculated Kalie’s arrival. She flew through the door in four minutes. “Chris, oh my God, look at you,” she squealed. “You’re even more gorgeous than I remember.”
I didn’t stand but let her hug my shoulders. “Thank you for coming. Mom insists that you eat dinner with us tonight.”
She let her arms drop to her side as if she didn’t know what to do with them. I motioned for her to sit down at my table.
“Want something to drink?” I asked as I bit into my surprisingly good hamburger.
“Maggie,” Kalie yelled, “I’ll have a Coors Light. Put it on her bill.”
Maggie popped the top and placed a can of Coors and a glass on the counter.
“You must serve yourself,” I whispered.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off Kalie as she pranced to the bar. Her long brown hair hung down her back and swayed with her butt when she walked. She was more attractive than ever, and she knew it.
“What are you doing in town,” Maggie asked. “I ain’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m here for dad’s funeral.” Kalie said sadly.
“Dick’s dead!” Maggie howled. “I thought the bastard was too mean to die.”
“His funeral is tomorrow,” Kalie informed her. “It’d mean a lot to me if you attended.”
“Naw, I never had any use for him when he was alive. I am not going to pretend to mourn him. I’m no hypocrite. How is Sara taking it? Celebrating, I bet. Dick’s dead! I can’t wait to tell Bill.”
Kalie returned to my table and sat down. “Isn’t it a bit embarrassing to wrangle attendees to Dick’s funeral,” I asked.
“Yeah, I just want to get this over with and get back to Miami.” She winked at me and took several gulps of her beer.
“Is Lucy with you?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s asleep in my room at mom’s. The flight tired her.”
I nodded, stood, and walked to the cash register. Maggie held out my bill and I handed her a twenty. “Keep the change. The burger was great.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Is that your red truck with the Missouri tags, parked at the B&B?” Kalie asked as we walked toward it.
“I figured you’d be driving a Mercedes or some other fancy car by now.”
“I need the truck for picking up supplies and catering. It also pulls a food a concession trailer when we participate in city celebrations like the fourth of July,” I replied. “Are you staying at your mom’s?
“Yeah, no need to waste money when she has a perfectly good bedroom.”
“How is she doing?” I asked as we stepped into my pickup.
“Relieved,” Kalie replied. “I’m sure she is glad to be out from under his rule. But I think he has left her with a lot of debt. He mortgaged the house a couple of years ago to invest in a fancy racehorse that was guaranteed to make him a millionaire.”
“Nah, died of colic after its first race.” Kalie snorted.
“So where does that leave your mom?”
“A mortgaged home and a ton of debt,” Kalie shrugged. “I don’t know what she is going to do. She’ll figure it out.”
“Kalie, she has never worked. As I recall, your rat bastard father wouldn’t let her work for fear some other man would steal her from him.”
“He was insanely jealous,” Kalie agreed.
I pulled my truck into the driveway, took a deep breath, and got out.
Mrs. Anderson met me at the door. “Chris Taylor, let me look at you.” She took both my hands and pulled me into the house. “You are even more beautiful than I could have imagined. You have grown into a fine woman.”
I was shocked by the changes twelve years had made in her. She was thin and pale. Her hair had started to gray at the temples and was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. The thing that made me want to cry was that the light had gone out in her beautiful grey eyes. She was a shell of the woman I once knew. She looked more like sixty-five than forty-five. Living with asshole Dick would do that to any woman. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her—not too tightly—I was afraid I’d break her. She felt fragile in my arms.
I released her and she looked up at me and smiled. She still had the same dimples I had always loved. Only they were much shallower. Her face was gaunt. “Come in the kitchen. We can talk while I prepare dinner.”
“I can help,” I volunteered. “I’m a good cook, Mrs. Anderson.
She faced me with her hands on her hips. “I think you are old enough to call me Sara.” She smiled.
“Sara,” it felt strange on my tongue. “It may take me a while to get used to that, Mrs. Anderson, er, I mean, Sara.”
Kalie and Lucy argued as they walked into the kitchen. “I must go back as soon as the funeral is over,” Lucy declared. “I’ve got to be on the set at 7:00 a.m. Thursday morning.”
“Go on get an airline ticket on a credit card,” Kalie responded. “I must stay here for a while and help Mom get things settled.”
Lucy scowled at Kalie and charged from the room. Kalie ran after her catching her in the dining room. “What is wrong with you?” She demanded.
“You know we can’t afford an airline ticket. You promised we would drive back right after the funeral. I know why you’re staying over,” Lucy hissed. “You think you’ll get a chance to shack up with your ex.”
Kalie didn’t argue.
“She’s even more gorgeous than when you left her for me. I’m not stupid,” Lucy continued.
I walked into the dining room with plates. “Lucy, just to put your mind at ease, I wouldn’t touch Kalie with a ten-foot pole. Been there, done that! It won’t ever happen again.”
Kalie gave me a “go to hell” look and stormed from the room. I walked back into the kitchen and filled glasses with ice. “What else may I do to help?” I asked Mrs. Anderson as I lifted the lid on the pot she had simmering. “Chicken and dumplings,” I exclaimed my mouth salivating.
“Your favorite,” she beamed. “Just like you like them—more chicken and less dumpling.”
“You’re the best, Mrs. Anderson.” I hugged her again.
Dinner was a less than cheery affair with Lucy snarling at Kalie and Mrs. Anderson trying to keep the peace. “What are you wearing tomorrow?” I asked my hostess.
“A red dress,” Mrs. Anderson laughed. “I know that sounds horrible, but for me it is more of a celebration than a time of mourning.”
I suppressed my urge to laugh, making a snorting sound instead. Mrs. Anderson got tickled and we all ended up laughing.
“I know he was awful to you Mom,” Kalie said, “but surely there was something you liked about him. You were married to him for thirty years.”
“And I hated every minute of it,” Mrs. Anderson declared. “My parents forced me to marry him because he got me pregnant at fourteen, and they made it clear I could never return home with a child in tow. I stayed married to him so you would have a roof over your head and a good education.”
“It takes two to tango,” Kalie smirked still defending her father.
The hurt in Mrs. Anderson ’s eyes was soul wrenching. Her lips moved but nothing came out. Finally, she bowed her head and said the blessing.
Everyone began eating. “Yum, this green bean casserole is incredible,” I commented. “You are still the best cook in the world.”
Mrs. Anderson blushed, and it was good to see a little color in her pale face.
“Yeah, Dad did love your cooking,” Kalie declared. She held out her empty tea glass to her mother. “Could you refill my tea?”
“The tea pitcher is on the cabinet,” I informed her. “Get up and refill your own glass. Your mother isn’t your servant.”
“I don’t mind,” Mrs. Anderson mumbled pushing her chair back.
I grabbed her wrist. “No, she can wait on herself.” I scowled.
“Fine,” Kalie squawked. “What’s the big deal?” She jumped up and carried her tea glass to the cabinet.
“If you don’t know, I’m not wasting my breath telling you,” I seethed.
It suddenly occurred to me that Kalie had enabled her father’s mistreatment of her mother by going along with it. She also knew who brought the money home for things she wanted. “You’re really a piece of work.” I shook my head and glared at her.
Peanut, Mrs. Anderson ’s dog whined beside my chair. “Peanut, there you are.” I picked up the little chihuahua and hugged her to me. “You were a puppy the last time I saw you.”
Peanut snuggled into me keeping her eye on a small piece of chicken on my plate. “May I feed her this?” I asked Mrs. Anderson.
“Of course, but you do know she will be glued to you for the rest of your stay.” She laughed, something she hadn’t done since my arrival.
I beamed at her and fed Peanut the chicken. I placed the tiny dog back on the floor and she immediately ran to her owner. I noticed she limped. “She’s limping. Is there something in her paw?”
Mrs. Anderson bowed her head as she picked up Peanut. She didn’t look up as she said, “Dick kicked her in a rage. He broke her back leg then refused to let me take her to the vet.”
My immense hatred for Dick returned full force. I was glad he was dead. If he weren’t, I’m certain I’d be planning his demise right now.
Chapter 3: Something to Celebrate
Wednesday morning all of us met in the living room dressed for the funeral. Kalie and Lucy wore black slacks and jackets. I wore a dark burgundy dress that hugged my body to my waist then flared into a pleated skirt that was a few inches below my knees. I smiled when Mrs. Anderson joined us wearing a blue dress that hung on her frail frame. No black for her.
“Let’s take your truck,” Kalie insisted. “Our car is a mess. You know how vehicles look after a long trip.”
We got into my truck that easily accommodated four people. “I love how clean this is,” Mrs. Anderson commented. “You were always particular about your things.”
Kalie and Lucy entered the church ahead of us and I offered Mrs. Anderson my arm. She slipped her arm through mine and leaned on me. I wondered if she would miss Dick at all.
I wasn’t surprised to see very few people seated in the church pews. Two of Dick’s drinking buddies had sobered enough to attend church and the president of a local mortgage company made up the group of Dick’s mourners.
As the pastor struggled to find something nice to say about old Dick, I recalled the man I knew.
Dick was a long-haul truck driver for a company that had a terminal and administrative offices in Moscow. At 6’3” and two-hundred-fifty pounds, he was a bully that no one stood up to but me. Mostly, I just stayed out of his way after I broke his nose and cut off his ear. I was glad he was dead. I was sure Mrs. Anderson was too.
“Let us pray,” the preacher said, pulling my attention back to the present.
I held Mrs. Anderson’s hand to let her know I was there for her. She nodded without looking at me and squeezed my hand.
The pastor ended the prayer then announced that the ladies of the church had prepared a luncheon for everyone at the Anderson home. The two drunks beat it out the door to the nearest bar and the mortgage company president mumbled his condolences to the family and left.
“At least he had the decency not to foreclose on her today,” Kalie whispered to me as Mrs. Anderson thanked the pastor for a beautiful memorial service.
“Is she seriously in danger of losing the house?” I whispered back.
“By the end of the month,” Kalie mumbled.
Mrs. Anderson walked toward us. “We have delicious food waiting for us at home. I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved.”
“The women in our town do know how to cook,” Mrs. Anderson declared as we sat around the dining table.
“You must take me to the airport,” Lucy whined to Kalie.
“You want to ride with us?” Kalie asked me.
“No, I’m going to stay here and help your mom with the dishes.”
“Suit yourself.” Kalie shrugged following Lucy from the room.
As we loaded the dishwasher, Mrs. Anderson chatted about anything and everything but nothing important. Finally, my good sense lost out and I asked, “Kalie said you are losing the house.”
She looked at me in horror as if it were the first she knew about it. “No, I’m not,” she declared. “Dick had an insurance police for half a million dollars through the trucking company. I can pay off all his debts, the mortgage, and still have some left over.”
“Whew,” I breathed easier. “I was already working on ways to help you. I guess you don’t need my help.”
She smiled. “Just your friendship, sweetie. I’m going to watch the news then go to bed. It’s been a long day. Would you like to join me?”
I nodded, grabbed a Dr Pepper from the fridge and followed her to the den.
“Are you going to be okay all alone in this house?” I asked.
“I was always alone and welcomed it,” she admitted. “Dick was not a joy to have around.” She turned on the television ending our conversation. Midway through the news she fell asleep.
I studied her face. The sharp angles of her gaunt face and dark bags beneath her eyes made my heart hurt for her. I wanted to touch her and tell her everything would be alright, but the truth was, I didn’t know that for certain.
Chapter 4: From Bad to Worse
The smell of fresh coffee beckoned me into the kitchen where Mrs. Anderson and Kalie sat reading legal looking papers. “Good morning sleepy head,” Kalie flashed that smile that made me fall for her years ago, but I was immune to it now.
“Good morning, did Lucy get off okay?” I asked as I poured a cup of coffee and refilled Mrs. Anderson’s cup.
“Yes, she is already safely back in Miami and at work.”
“Chris, would you take a look at this?” Mrs. Anderson held out the papers she had been studying.
I sat down beside her and began to read Dick’s life insurance policy. I finished and stared at Kalie. “This policy names Kalie the beneficiary,” I noted. “Is there another policy?”
“Nope,” Kalie replied. “Just this one for half a mill.”
“Nothing for you?” I frowned at Mrs. Anderson. “How are you going to pay off the house?”
Mrs. Anderson smiled. “I’m certain my daughter will help me,” she replied.
“I’ll take this to Mr. Charles at the insurance company and get this claim started,” Kalie said standing and heading to the door.
We sat in silence until we heard the car leave the driveway. “I have a bad feeling about this,” Mrs. Anderson said. “Even in his grave, he will find a way to hurt me.”
I glanced at her. “Why did you marry him?”
“I’ve always been too ashamed to tell anyone this,” she sniffed. “Dick raped me when I was fourteen. When my parents discovered I was pregnant they made him marry me or go to jail. God knows I didn’t want to marry him. I hated him with all my heart, and he knew it. I prayed that Kalie would be a boy, but the fates laughed at me and sent me a baby girl. I knew I would have to protect her from Dick, and I have. If I hadn’t tolerated his endless pawing and grunting, he would have gone after Kalie. Tears ran down her cheeks. “All I ever heard him say was, ‘A woman’s place is in the home servicing her man.’ I knew he picked up prostitutes at truck stops when he was hauling. I faked an allergic reaction to birth-control pills and convinced him to wear protection with me so we wouldn’t have another child. The truth was I feared he would bring home some horrid disease from his escapades on the road.
“He wouldn’t let me work or finish high school. The happiest moments of my life were when he was on the road, and I was home alone with Kalie. I feel like a bad person because I am so happy he is dead.”
I slipped my arm around her frail shoulders and let her cry on my breast until she had no tears left to cry. “It is going to be okay,” I promised. “You’ll see your life will only be better in the future.”
“I hope so,” she replied. “It can’t get any worse.”
I patted her back. I had no idea about the hell she had lived through. We talked until the sun began to set.
“I wonder what is keeping Kalie,” I commented. “Should I go see about her?”
“May I go with you?”
“Of course, it will be good for you to get out of the house. I grabbed her jacket from the closet and held it as she slipped her arms into it.
As we drove I tried to recall the location of the Charles Insurance Agency. I knew I’d seen it but was having trouble mapping its location as I drove.
“It’s diagonal from the Grub Grab,” Mrs. Anderson reminded me.
“Yes! That is where I saw it. I pulled onto the agency parking lot as Mr. Charles was walking out the door.
“Mr. Charles, you may not remember me,” I said as I approached him. “I’m Chris Taylor.”
“Of course, I remember you,” he held out his hand and I shook it. “It was nice of you to return for Dick’s funeral.”
“I wanted to support Mrs. Anderson,” I explained looking around for Kalie’s car. “I’m looking for Kalie. She was supposed to pay you a visit, but she hasn’t returned home.”
He gave me an incredulous look and shook his head. “She hung around my office all day waiting for approval from my home office to issue her a check for Dick’s life insurance settlement. She left about an hour ago with the check.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
“Back to Miami.” He informed me. “I feel awful that Dick didn’t have a policy for Sara. I’m sure he felt Kalie is better suited to help her mother and made her the sole beneficiary.”
I nodded as my stomach tied itself in knots.
I returned to the car trying to find the words to tell Mrs. Anderson that her daughter had taken the money and left town.
“She’s gone, isn’t she?” Mrs. Anderson sobbed once, then pulled back her shoulders and lifted her chin determined to face the world with her head held high.
We ate dinner in silence, each of us trying to decide what to do. “I’ll go talk to the mortgage company in the morning,” I volunteered. “I have a little money saved up. We will find a way to keep your house.”
I cleaned the kitchen, putting away the food and starting the dishwasher.
“Do you have the paperwork on the new loan Dick took out on the house?” I asked trying to determine her situation.
“Yes, I’ll get it,” She uttered shuffling toward the room Dick called his office.
She returned with a file that contained six months of past-due notices and a foreclosure notice. The mortgage company had already filed for possession of the property.
“You should get some sleep,” I encouraged her. Things will look brighter tomorrow.”
I didn’t sleep a wink. Her situation was bad. I dialed the number for Kalie. “Hey Chris, baby. What’s up?” She answered.
“Where the hell are you?” I growled into the phone.
“Headed home to Miami,” she replied. “I told you I was leaving today. Do you miss me?”
“Kalie, are you going to help your mother?”
A long silence told me all I needed to know. “You sorry piece of—” I got control of my temper and stopped my tirade. “They have already foreclosed on her house. She will lose it. Mr. Charles said you picked up the insurance check and took off. Are you really going to let your mother be thrown out into the street.”
“Look, Chris. Half a million will let me get my life back on track. She’ll be fine. Moscow has a women’s shelter.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “How can you do this?”
“If she had treated my dad nicer, he would have made us co-beneficiaries.
“Kailie, he got her pregnant at fourteen.”
“She should have said no.” Kalie declared.
“You think she had a choice. A little thing like her against a brute like Dick. I honestly don’t think they ever had consensual sex. He forced himself on her. He treated her like a whore. Have you forgotten when he beat her so badly she was in the hospital for a week? And you, you graduated from college and never looked back. You never helped her.”
“What do you mean she never had consensual sex?” Kalie demanded.
“I mean he raped her.” I was so mad at Kalie I could choke her.
“You mean I’m the result of rape. I am a rape baby?” Kalie wailed.
“Oh, yes, let’s make it all about you. You really are a sorry piece of shit. You went off to college and never gave her a second thought.”
I had to get away from him to live my life with you.” Kalie defended. “He hated that we were lesbians.”
“How’d that work out?” I snorted. “Oh, yeah, I caught you in our home in our bed with some bimbo you picked up in a bar. Yep, I know how important our relationship was to you. Forget about me. This is your mother we are discussing. Kalie, hello, Kalie.” She hung up on me. I redialed her number and my call went to voicemail.
At 6:00 a.m. I stumbled into the kitchen careful not to awaken Mrs. Anderson. The smell of coffee brewing told me she was already up. I put on my best face.
“Good morning,” I said cheerily. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did.” she smiled faking happiness as badly as I was.
I poured our coffee and placed a cup in front of Mrs. Anderson. “Kalie has taken the insurance money and returned to Miami, hasn’t she?”
“Yes ma’am,” I mumbled.
She shook her head accepting the crappy hand life had dealt her. I made one of those spur-of-the-moment, life altering decisions. “Pack the things you want to take with you,” I said. “You’re going to Missouri with me.”
I can’t do that, Chris. You’re young. You don’t need an old woman tied around your neck.”
“Mrs. Anderson, you saved me from a fate worse than death when my Mom died. If you hadn’t pretended to be my aunt they would have taken mom’s property and put me in a foster home. I’m returning the favor. In the next seven hours we will figure this out. By the time we reach Bransom we will have a plan that will work.”
She burst into tears. “May I take Peanut? She is potty trained.”
“Of course, you can.”
"Here's to You Mrs. Anderson," is novel number thirty-three for Erin Wade. With thrity-two #1 Bestsellers, Erin is hoping that "Here's to You Mrs. Anderson" will keep the dream alive.
An award winning novelist, Erin and her wife make their home in Texas where she is a full-time writer and her wife is an educator. They are the parents of two wonderful pets: a Shih Tzu/Chihuahua cross named Tank and an affectionate cat named Fast Eddie.
"Here's to you Mrs. Robinson" is a lesfic novel filled with love and laughter along with a little bit of murder. If you enjoy a lot of WLW romance thrown in with a case of "who done it" I think you will enjoy "Here's to You Mrs. Anderson."
Set in the fast-paced world of celebrity chefs and fine wines, the novel will lead you through competitions and just how far a contestant will go to win.
I hope you enjoy this preview. Watch for this book in the first quarter of 2024.
lesfic, WLW, sapphic, Lesbian, LGBT
Copyright: Erin Wade,
1/2017 - 1/2024