Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Tearing myself out of the past, I faced the house. It was time to go inside. When I stepped into the foyer, the sight of boxes stacked taller than me made me want to run away. God, I hated moving, and now I was moving into a house, knowing I would likely be moving out before the summer ended.
Panic threatened to overtake me. I should be thrilled with having options, but I just felt more confused than ever. Should I leave my job permanently? Move somewhere new? Travel? Lie around on my ass and hope I didn’t burn through the money too quickly?
I shook my head in a futile attempt to banish the maelstrom of thoughts. First things first: unpacking. The only thing I’d been particularly organized about as I’d packed were my books, all forty boxes of them. That left a hell of a lot of boxes labeled miscellaneous. It would be nice if the coffee and the coffee pot had ended up in the kitchen, but I wasn’t betting on it. As to my clothes… I couldn’t keep wearing the sweaty workout gear I had on or go out in public naked, so I’d have to find them soon.
I pulled out my phone and tapped David’s name. I knew he was still at work, but he answered on the second ring.
“You get moved in?” he asked.
“The men unloaded my stuff, if that’s what you mean. I’m not sure I’m ever going to sort it all out.”
“I thought you weren’t unpacking most of it, anyway.”
“I’m not. Just the things I need while I get this place fixed up.”
I still had to go through my aunt and uncle’s personal effects. They’d both been minimalists, so there wasn’t too much. I’d already decided to donate their clothes to a local shelter. I’d look through the kitchen to see if there was anything I wanted to keep and then donate the rest. I planned to auction off the nicer furniture once the house sold. I had no reason to sit on bad memories, or worse, sleep on them. I’d asked the movers to disassemble my aunt and uncle’s bed and put up my own. Sleeping in their bedroom was one thing, on their bed… I shuddered.
“Jeremy, you still there?”
“Um… yes. I was hoping you’d be willing to—”
“Help unpack?” David asked.
“Yes.”
“Sure. I can be there in about an hour.”
That was easier than I had expected. “Really?”
“If you thought I’d say no, why’d you call?”
A typical David question. “I was going to bribe you.”
David laughed. “I expect to be fed, obviously, especially now that you’re Richie Rich and all.”
“Ha. I’ll order from Mountain Pizza.”
David made noises like he was mulling the suggestion over. “Or, if you want me to do some serious work, you could get Sparky’s.”
I pondered the idea. Spicy fried chicken, fries, and the best coleslaw ever. David knew I had a weakness for Sparky’s. He’d taken me there nearly every night for a week after I had finally kicked Silas out of my life.
“Sparky’s sounds great, but I’m trying to eat healthy.”
“You suggested pizza, didn’t you?”
I sighed. “I was going to get a salad.”
“Seriously? You don’t order a salad on moving day. Besides, you’re on vacation—”
“Sabbatical.”
“Whatever. You have all the time in the world to go to the gym now.”
“Not if I’m going to clean this house and write a book.”
David made a growly sound. “Jer-e-my.”
“Fine, I’ll order from Sparky’s.”
“Good. I’ll bring the beer.”
I protested. “You don’t have to. I can—”
“You can pay me back. I discovered a new ale I want you to try.”
Arguing with David when beer was at stake was pointless. “All right.”
“You’re not actually intending to clean the house yourself, are you?”
“Well, I…” I glanced around. The place was spacious, to say the least. My aunt had always paid several women to come in once a week to clean, but I had never hired a cleaner in my life. Of course, I hadn’t owned a giant house before, either.
“Seriously?” David’s tone made it clear he thought I was an idiot. “You’ve got plenty of money; hire someone.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right. Do you know a good service?”
“No, but I’m sure my mom or one of my neighbors do. I’ll ask around.”
“Thanks. See you soon.”
“You bet. Are you doing okay being there?”
I considered my answer and realized I hadn’t felt uneasy at all since I’d stepped into the house. “I am, actually. Thanks for asking.”
“You didn’t really think I’d let you be alone there tonight, did you?”
“No. You want to stay over?” I asked.
“Sure. I’ll bring my PJs, and we can stay up all night and do each other’s nails.”
“Fuck off.”
David was doing his famous hyena laugh as he hung up, and I couldn’t help but smile. We’d been friends since middle school when that laugh used to get him in trouble at least once a week.