Free Simple Riches by Mary Campisi

you.” She’d didn’t need to see any more, didn’t want to see anything else that would make her feel as though she were being swallowed up by a giant gob of cotton candy.
    “But I haven’t even shown you the kitchen.” Edna’s red lips pulled into a frown. “Or the bathroom. Tracy has the most adorable soaps in there, shaped like baby lambs and kittens.” Her voice drooped, fell, stilled.
    “Of course, I want to see all of it,” Alex lied. “Every inch. But I thought we could get business out of the way and then”—she paused, forcing an extra eagerness to her voice—“I could just enjoy Tracy’s talents.”
    That made Edna smile wide, revealing a metal bracket of bridgework on her back teeth. “Okay, then. What about one hundred a week?”
    One hundred a week? Alex was used to the ridiculous prices small-towners threw out for lodging, eyes darting around the room, hoping to earn a little extra for their wish lists—self-propelled lawn mowers, dirt bikes for the kids, dishwashers, air conditioning window units, linoleum floors. It was obvious few of them traveled to the city, where one hundred dollars didn’t cover one night’s stay. So, she paid her twenty-nine dollars a night at The Gazebo or whatever the place was, and let them think they’d gotten the better part of the deal.
    But this? One hundred dollars a week? What was that? Fourteen dollars a day? Even for an apartment decked out in pink confection that was too cheap. Alex wanted to earn Edna and Chuck’s trust, convince them to sell out, but she wasn’t trying to rip them off.
    “Is that too much?” Edna pressed her hands together, bit her bottom lip. “I could go seventy-five. How’s that? Seventy-five plus a meal a day.”
    “Edna, please.” Alex held up a hand, smiled. “I think it’s not enough . I was thinking two hundred a week.”
    “Oh, no!” She flung a hand over her heart. “Too much. Way too much.”
    Alex hoped it would be this easy negotiating for the Lubovich’s land. “Not really. Listen, Edna. You’re paying all of the utilities, did you think of that? Water, electric, gas? I shower at least once a day, flush the toilet more than that, and I’ll probably watch a little television, listen to the radio, maybe even cook once in a while. That all uses up utilities. It’s only fair.”
    “I’m an honest woman, Alex.” Edna patted her yellow kerchief, squared her bony shoulders. “I don’t take nothin’ from anybody unless I earn it.”
    “Neither do I.” That was true enough. “You’re going to be my landlady.” Good Lord, was it really going to be this easy to buy up the town? “You have something I want. I’m willing to pay for it and even though you think it’s a lot of money, it still isn’t even fair market value, which means a reasonable price. So, we’re both making out. You’re happy, I’m happy, you make more money than you counted on, I pay less money than I counted on.” Alex held out her hand. “It’s called business, Edna. Pure and simple business.”
    Edna clasped Alex’s hand with both of hers. “It’s a deal. But I’m still going to fix you one meal a day. You choose. Stuffed cabbage or chicken paprikash?”
    “Can’t say that I’ve had either.” Alex subscribed to the grilled chicken, steamed broccoli, no salt regime.
    “Really? Well, you’ll just have to try them both. The only person in town who can even come close to my stuffed cabbage and chicken paprikash is Stella Androvich.”
    There was that name again. And here was an opportunity. “Well, then, I’d like to meet her sometime.”
    “Sure.” Edna paused. “Why not tonight? There’s a big party for Frank Androvich, Stella’s brother-in-law over at her house. It’s his sixty-fourth birthday. Chuck and I are going. You come with us, meet people, talk to them about Restalline.”
    “But I haven’t been invited.”
    “Oh, go on, don’t worry about that. I’ll call Stella and tell her we’re bringing