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)
“It’s nice to meet you. I promise I don’t usually answer the door this way, and I hope not to make it a habit for the rest of the neighborhood,” she jokes. The older men wouldn’t mind; their wives might, though.
“They might enjoy it a little too much. Anyways, I’ll let you get back to it.” The last thing I want to do is leave, but I’m not going to be a dick and keep her standing in a towel with wet hair, along with the air conditioning I’m sure is running non-stop like mine does.
“It was nice meeting you.” The hand not holding the towel goes to the edge of the door, and she uses it to lean against. “Oh, a quick question. Did you know my Aunt Estelle?” There’s hopefulness in her tone.
“Yeah, Lennon, I did.” I quirk an eyebrow, wondering how deep she wants this to go.
“Do you think we could talk about her sometime? I don’t want to bore you to tears about my upbringing, but I had no idea my sister and I had an aunt and, well, she helped me, more than she’ll ever know. I’d have survived because we Sinclair sisters always do, but…” Lennon takes a moment. “Well, shit, I’m doing it again. Anyways, she helped me get back on my feet after a divorce, so I owe her a lot. The least I can do is learn about what I’m sure was an amazing person.”
“Anytime you wanna talk, my door is always open. The next time I see you, I’ll give you my phone number. Russell, who I’m assuming is a family friend?” I ask.
“Yes, adopted via my sister. The Johnsons mainly adopted her soon-to-be husband, but yes, more family than friends. They’ve been helping me get this place back in order,” she offers a look into her life.
“He mentioned they’d be here a few more days before heading back home. You need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, alright?” Lennon’s eyes scan down the length of my body. I see her legs from beneath her towel inch closer to one another. Jesus, fuck. My imagination runs wild. Is she doing that to help an ache building inside her, or is she trying to find warmth?
“I will, thank you again. Oh, and, Asher?” I’m starting to head back to my place when she says my name.
“Yeah, Lennon?”
“Your little girl is beautiful.” It takes a me a minute to realize she’s talking about Briar.
“Thanks. Briar is my niece. You’ll probably see and hear her from time to time.” Her chest rises and falls. I wonder if that’s from a sense of relief or what.
“You’re welcome, and thank you again.”
“Never a problem. See you around.” This time when I turn around, I do it slowly, waiting to hear her door shut and the turn to lock, only then do I head back to my place. My new neighbor has got me all fucked up, and I’m finding I like it, a whole hell of a lot.
8
LENNIE
Iwalk around the house taking everything in, still in awe of everything we accomplished in the short amount of time. The walls and ceilings are painted a soft creamy beige highlighting the wood along the floorboards, doorways, and a few built-ins. All of the boxes are broken down and on the porch to either recycle or when I get the chance to find a local on-line group that could use them. A shiver runs down my spine thinking about social media. Well before my divorce was final, I deactivated all the apps. I’ve yet to dip my toes back into the mess of all messes. I’ll probably have to jump back on the train now that I’m in a new community and want to help others out. Of course, that’ll take me forever at first because I need to clean my shit up. I never posted a lot. Still, there’s years upon years’ worth of memories that need to come down.
I’ll do that one day, not today.
I go about closing the new light-filtering curtains in the living area, turning off lights along the way while shutting my house down for the night. Another purchase I had to give in to from Catherine and Russell. I love them, love that they want to help so much, but goodness, the guilt that consumed me each time they slid their card across the machine had me crippled with anxiety. I thanked them profusely, offered to pay them back or fly up to Wyoming to repay the favor. You know, once I have some time off accrued at work. Essentially, it’ll be maybe a year or so before it happens. There are long weekends I’ll be able to hop on a plane to visit. The first will have to be to Clay and Minnie’s, then to the Johnsons.