Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Lily
I looked down at the crumpled five-dollar bill in my right hand…and then at the jar of chunky peanut butter in my left. Peanut butter is a good source of protein and energy—a little bit can keep you going for quite a long time. But the price tag on the side of the jar read $4.99.
I had enough change to cover the tax, but if I spent it, that was it—I was officially out of funds—a nice way of saying “flat broke.”
I considered the peanut butter again and then looked out the large plate glass window of the Grab N Go, which was the last gas station around for miles. My tired old Chevy minivan was riding on empty. If I spent my last five dollars and change on food, I was going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future. Or at least until someone got sick of seeing me out in the small parking area and called to get me towed away. Then what would I do? I couldn’t just—
“Hey, lady—you gonna buy that or what?”
The clerk’s voice broke my train of thought and I looked up to see him smirking at me, his long hair flopping in his face. I bet he thought girls liked that. I thought about telling him he was wrong and decided against it—I was too tired and hungry to pick a fight. Especially with someone who could get me towed if he wanted to.
“No…I guess not.” Reluctantly, I put the peanut butter back on the shelf with the other overpriced groceries. Things always cost more at the gas station but there was no grocery store anywhere around—not that I could afford much of anything there either.
If I used the money for gas, I could possibly make it to the local food pantry tomorrow, I told myself. And maybe they could point me in the direction of a women’s shelter. I hated to go stay someplace like that, but it was time to admit defeat—I couldn’t keep living in my car forever.
I walked up to the counter and laid the crumpled five-dollar bill on the counter.
“Five dollars of regular on pump six,” I told the clerk, who rang me up without comment.
I watched as the five disappeared into his register. It was my emergency money—the bill I’d always kept in the tiny back pocket of my purse in case I ran short. Parting with it hurt—and it hurt even more to use it for gas.
My stomach was growling angrily at me, but I told myself I wasn’t starving yet. I still had plenty of padding on my hips and ass. I’ve always been a curvy girl. I used to joke that I could live off my curves for months—now I was testing that theory and finding that it wasn’t much fun. Also, even though I hadn’t had enough to eat in what felt like forever, I still wasn’t anywhere near skinny—how is that fair?
I went out and pumped the gas, noticing that the minivan’s left front tire was worryingly low. I might have enough change to use the air machine and fill it up, but I didn’t want to deal with it tonight.
Instead, I pulled around to the far side of the tiny parking lot at the back of the Grab N Go, far out of everyone’s way. The gas station was out in the back of beyond—I’d ended up here after taking a wrong turn—and the area was pretty rural.
The lot was backed by a small field that sloped down into a thick forest. I could hear the wind rustling in the trees but I couldn’t see much past what the sodium arc lights mounted over the pumps showed.
It was already getting chilly—not surprising since the area was right at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains and it was Autumn. I wished I could turn on the car and run the heater, but I didn’t dare waste the pitiful bit of fuel that my last five dollars had bought me. Instead, I turned around and rummaged in my big duffle bag which held pretty much everything I owned in the world. I managed to wrestle my winter coat out of the bag and dragged it on.
I hadn’t worn it since last winter and I couldn’t help thinking how different my life had been back then—not even a year ago. We’d had a family Christmas with everyone gathered in the big house in Ashville that Christopher had been able to buy after he made partner. Both the kids were there—Amy had flown in from France where she was doing a study abroad program and Chris Junior had brought his new wife all the way from Oregon.
Thinking of my step kids always gave me a warm glow. I might not have given birth to them, but I had raised them from the ages of three and five—for all intents and purposes, I was their mom.