Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
She kind of looked like a giant poo.
But Opal was too classy to tell her that.
“Getting home at all hours, making lots of noise. This neighborhood used to be a quiet, respectable one.”
“That’s not what I heard,” she said. “I heard that Mrs. Easton liked to put on a good party.”
“Agnes was very social,” she said in a strange voice.
For a moment, Opal thought she appeared sad. Did she miss Mrs. Easton? Was that why she was being so rude to Opal? But why not just go visit her? Why torture Opal with early morning wakeups?
“Is there something you wanted, Mrs. Gingers?”
“Yes, to ask that you please be quieter at night. You woke me and Barney up and it took us forever to get to sleep again.”
Barney was her nephew who often visited her on the weekends. Why, Opal had no idea. Staying with the Grackle couldn’t be that much fun.
“Look, I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll try to be quieter.” Although she really didn’t think she’d been that loud in the first place. She shut the door and turned away.
Grumbling to herself, she headed toward her coffee pot to switch it on. She hadn’t gotten to sleep until around four a.m. Her brain had been too busy.
Opal wasn’t a great sleeper.
Mostly because she kept getting woken by fucking nightmares. And partially, because she always felt like she was on guard, waiting for something to happen.
So when a nightmare woke her at around three this morning, she’d decided to try removing some of the carpet in the spare bedroom instead of trying to get back to sleep.
Which had meant moving all the bedroom furniture out. Something that had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she was now regretting it as her body screamed in pain.
That bed had been really heavy and she hoped she hadn’t kept any of her other neighbors up. Not that Mrs. Grackle could have heard her from across the road.
Alec had told her that she could make whatever improvements she liked. Although he’d likely been thinking about painting walls, not that she’d rip out carpets.
You probably should have asked him first . . .
She walked into the spare bedroom and stared down at the mustard and burgundy colored carpet. She couldn’t deal with it any longer.
Maybe she’d take a shower and check the security light, then take a trip into town to see if she could get some equipment to help remove the carpet.
Well.
Fuck.
Opal stared up at the security light with a frown. The entire thing was smashed and there were plastic bits in the flowerbed and on the footpath.
How did that happen?
Maybe it was a child with a ball or a slingshot. Or maybe a bird.
But that feeling of dread in her gut told her that that wasn’t the case.
“Opal!”
She held in her groan. Just wonderful. Her day kept getting better and better.
She plastered on a smile and turned to wave at Barney.
Who the hell would name their kid Barney?
Someone who hated their kid, that was who.
Poor Barney had never had a chance, had he? He was born to parents who didn’t like him, gave him a terrible name, and he had an aunt like Mrs. Grackle.
But he was harmless and sweet so she tried to be patient and polite.
“Hi, Barney.”
He was here every weekend now, which is much more often than when she’d first moved in. She had a sneaking suspicion that Barney might have a small crush on her.
Opal was trying her best to deter him without being a bitch, but when he was here, he seemed to always be around, watching her, talking to her.
“I got here last night,” Barney replied, rubbing his hand through his thinning hair. She didn’t know his age, but he looked to be in his early-to-mid-thirties. “Aunt Grace needs some help with her washing machine.”
Hmm.
“You’re so nice to come help her.”
Barney shrugged. “It’s the least I could do. She helped raise me as a kid. I was sorry that I couldn’t make your set last night at Dirty Delights.”
Unease filled her. “How did you know I was singing at Dirty Delights last night?”
She didn’t let Devon advertise when she was going to be there. Although it was pretty much every Friday night.
“Oh, Aunt Grace told me that she saw you leave after dinnertime and I just figured that was what you were doing. Sorry if I had that wrong.”
Shoot.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m just a bit touchy this morning. Your aunt woke me up.”
Barney grimaced. “Yeah, she told me. Sorry about that.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry about.”
He said nothing. Just stood there, staring at her.
Sooo.
This was awkward.
Opal cleared her throat.
Was he even breathing? His face seemed to be going purple.
“Barney? Are you all right?” she asked with concern.
“Do you need help with anything?” Barney finally asked, his breath coming out in a whoosh. He pulled out a piece of cloth and patted his forehead.