awnings and multipaned windows that glistened in the brilliant April sunshine.
The trio walked past Mulvaney’s drugstore, where the scent of Chantilly powder wafted through the open door. The girls stopped to look at the SALE sign on the front window. Prell shampoo and Colgate toothpaste were listed. Two for the price of one, but the girls weren’t interested. They shrugged as they continued down the shady street, past a hardware store so quaint it looked just as it would have fifty years earlier. Daniel Hawthorn sat on an old rocker under the front window, smoking his pipe. Next to him was a barrel of rakes and shovels, and huge bags of grass seed, the first and only clue that the building was indeed a hardware store. Mrs. Hawthorn believed in starched curtains, as did most of the shopkeepers. But curtains in a hardware store? Puh-leeze.
“Well, girls, here we are,” Allison said, her voice sounding jittery. She made a pretext of looking inside the tearoom before sitting down on the white-painted bench in front of a bow window adorned with limp checkered curtains. Half-barrels that had been painted white and were full of flowers so colorful they looked like a rainbow in a circle graced each side of the bench. Everyone said Hattie and Mattie Moss had a green thumb and would have been better off operating a flower shop instead of a teahouse. Of course, no one said that to their faces.
Jill Davis wiped at her perspiring face. Her hair was plastered to her forehead. “Are we going to stay out here or go inside, where it might be a tad cooler? I hate this damn humidity. Look at me, I’m drenched,” she complained.
Allison got up off the bench, looking up and down the street. Her hand snaked out to the ornate doorknob. A bell tinkled as she walked through, Jill and Gwen following. She stepped to the side to allow the others more standing room and give her eyes time to get used to the dim interior. Her hand went automatically to her glasses to adjust them on her sweaty face. Her friends did the same.
Allison led the way to the back of the tearoom, where a small cluster of empty tables waited. Overhead, paddle fans whirred noisily. Even in the dimness, dust at least half an inch thick coated the blades as they whirled around. Gwen sneezed, not once but three times, as she took her seat at the small, round wrought-iron table. Her eyes started to water behind her thick glasses.
“We should have gone to Dominic’s Pizza Parlor. This place is disgusting,” Gwen grumbled as she cleaned her glasses with the hem of her skirt.
“Too noisy at Dominic’s. Look around—no one is here. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and we have the place to ourselves. We don’t actually have to drink the tea or eat the sandwiches. We’ve been coming here for years when we had important things to discuss. It’s a tradition,” Allison said, her voice sounding defensive.
“Well, let’s get to it so we can get out of here. It’s just as hot inside as it is outside. I swear, I am going to move to Colorado first chance I get, and I’m never coming back to this place,” Jill whined. “Well, I’ll come back for a reunion, but that’s it.”
Hattie, or maybe it was Mattie, clomped her way to their table, a pad of paper and a pencil in her hand. Her ample bosom heaved with the effort of having walked across the room. “Hello, ladies,” she chirped. “What can I get for you today?”
“We’ll have three ice teas, and some of your famous rice cakes,” Allison said.
“No rice cakes today, ladies. We do have some store-bought cookies if your sweet tooth can tolerate them,” Hattie or Mattie chirped again.
“Ah, no. Just the ice tea then.”
Hattie or Mattie grimaced as she painstakingly wrote down the order before trundling off to the back of the teahouse.
“Okay, why are we here?” Gwen asked as she patted at her perspiring neck with a paper napkin. She yanked at the collar of her yellow blouse, which looked soaking wet.
Allison looked across the table at her two friends. She sucked in her breath, then exhaled it in a loud swoosh. She took a second deep breath as she leaned across the table. Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “We’re going to rob the bank I work in. I can’t do it myself, so that means I need your help, and we split the proceeds three ways. Think of it as three for the money. In this case we’re talking about bearer bonds. You in or out?” She flopped back in her chair as her classmates stared at her, their mouths hanging open.
Jill’s plump fingers grasped the edge of the table. Her whole body started to shake. “In or out of what?” she gasped.
“With me or against me,” Allison said. “Gwen?”
“When you rob a bank, you go to jail. Where did you get an idea like this? I wouldn’t do well in jail. I think this state makes women go out in chain gangs. The guards rape women prisoners. I don’t think so, Allison. I’m not a brave person. You know me, I’m scared of my own shadow. I won’t tell anyone if you want to go ahead and do it. No. My answer is no.”
Allison stared at her friends. “What if I told you I’ve been planning this for a year and can guarantee we’ll get away with it. This is not a lark. I’m serious—we can do it. We’ll be rich. Not right away, because we’ll have to wait till the bonds come due. No one can trace them to us. Bearer bonds, girls. At my bank. I have it all down pat. Come on, for once in our lives let’s do something radical. There’s not a person within a hundred miles who would ever think we pulled it off. I’m telling you, we can do this and walk away with no one the wiser. You know I’m smart enough to plan this thoroughly.”
Jill continued to mop at her perspiring face and neck. Hattie or Mattie set down three glasses of tea whose ice cubes had already melted. Gwen reached for her glass just to have something to do with her hands.
“Tell us the plan,” Gwen whispered nervously, after Hattie or Mattie had left.
Allison smiled. “It’s so simple, it’s downright scary. As you both know, I’ve worked at the bank part-time since I got here. That’s four years of employment. Mr. Augustus depends on me. At Christmastime last year he said he didn’t know what he would do without me, said I more or less ran the bank, but that was a joke. He just meant that I know everything there is to know, which is true. You also know that he belongs to that Gentlemen’s Club with all those old rich, fuddy-duddy pals he associates with. They are all obscenely rich. Everyone knows that, too.
“So here’s the plan. Four times a year, regular as clockwork, someone delivers a package of bearer bonds. The man just drops them off in a brown envelope. It isn’t even sealed, just clasped. Then Mr. Augustus divvies them up among the men from the club. One time the package sat on his desk for a whole week. He never even opened it. Do you believe that? I always thought they were doing something…something illegal.
“Moving right along here. As you know, Margaret, Corinne, and I are the only employees. My hours are never the same, depending on my classes. Corinne works just three days a week. Only Margaret is full-time. Neither one of them pays attention to anything. They’re just tellers, and if the bank is empty, they go in the back and drink sweet tea. If someone comes in to deposit or withdraw, I buzz them. Are you following me here?”
Two heads bobbed up and down.
“Mr. Augustus is going on a trip with the Gentlemen’s Club next week. This time they’re even taking their wives. The courier is due the day after they leave. Now, this is important. No one touches that envelope but the courier. He personally walks into Mr. Augustus’s office and puts it on his desk. He closes the door when he leaves. Usually Margaret signs for the envelope, dates it, and gives me the receipt to file.
“All
