Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
“Lennon, you want to come in and check on the progress?” Momma Catherine comes out to the porch to ask. After I cleaned up earlier, we took two vehicles to the thrift store. Poppa Russell in a truck, us girls in my car, Samantha. Which much to Minnie’s dismay is running even though she doesn’t look that great anymore. When it was suggested to take two cars, I looked back and forth between them in confusion. I should have known better, though. Shanghaied. That’s the term I heard Trey use, and he’s absolutely right where his mom is concerned. We went to the hardware store, where they bought all the paint and supplies, Russell slipping his credit card into the slot before I could. He’s as bad as his wife.
We then looked at the furniture sets. It took a solid twenty minutes until I finally relented, allowing them to buy way more than we originally spoke about. It seems to be a common recurrence since they came down here in the first place. From there, Russell came home while we went grocery shopping. Where once again, Catherine paid for everything. I felt bad, still do, realistically, but every time I’d insist that I could float the bill, they only shook their heads.
“Sure thing.” I drop the weed into the pile beside my hip, stand up, and wipe my dirty hands together to shake off the dirt. I’m going to need another shower after working in the yard twice today. I wipe the sweat off my brow with my forearm and head up the stairs.
“I want to make sure you like the colors before we get started.” When we got back, they shooed me outside, telling me that three people in my small master bedroom was one too many. I didn’t think they’d get started on it today. I figured they’d tape it off and clear the area. I guess I figured wrong.
“Momma Catherine,” I say with exasperation.
“Hush, we’re not old and feeble. Once we make sure you like the color, we’ll work on your bedroom, so once it’s dry, your room will be done.” I look over my shoulder before heading inside, catching my neighbor’s attention again. He’s carrying another armful of bags inside the house. Clearly, we both had the same agenda today, judging by the grocery store’s name emblazoned on the bag.
This time, he sends a smile my way, and I’m stunned for a moment. I give him one in return, though I’m sure it’s awkward.
“Lennie, are you coming?” I’m shaken out of my stupor.
“Yep!” I hustle through the entryway, close the door behind me, and move toward the bedroom.
“Hey, what did you say my neighbor’s name is?” I ask Russell when I’m at the doorway. The color on the wall is absolutely stunning, a deep shade of mauve, and I’m absolutely in awe. “Holy crap, never did I think it would look this amazing,” I say before he can answer my question. This isn’t just a small strip painted either; it’s nearly the whole wall done where my bed will be. The dark walnut four-poster bed with intricate detailing is really going to pop.
“Asher. He’s a firefighter. Works locally and seems like an all-around good fella,” Russell says with a note of pride in his voice. It’s usually Catherine who’s the matchmaker, or so says the gossip given to me from Minnie. I’m wondering if it isn’t actually the man of the family.
“It’s beautiful. Now I think we should paint the ceilings, too. What are your thoughts?” Catherine interjects. The ceilings are eight feet tall throughout the entire house. Usually, you’d be worried about the dark color making it seem like it would be too closed off, yet given the number of windows throughout, I think it would really work.
“I haven’t met him yet, only seen him a few times now. I’ll have to walk over once the dust has settled.” Russell grins at my response.
“Well, I most certainly approve.” I look from the walls to Momma Catherine, my eyes bulging out of their sockets. The ink on my divorce papers is barely dry. It might have been months in the making, living, sleeping, and eating alone. Still.
What would people say?
Am I even healed enough to contemplate something romantic?
And last of all, not least, is would I want to get entangled with my next-door neighbor?
“I’m old, not dead, honey. I’ve got boys. All of them are taken, or I’d have set you up with one of them. Though, I do love my girls, too, so maybe not. Anyways, I think it’d be a great idea if you walked over there and said hello.” She walks toward the brush and paint bucket. Russel anticipates her move and holds on to the small stepladder as she goes about showing me what the ceiling would look like with one thick stroke.