Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Sorry, sorry.” I scooped up the papers that had scattered on the floor and filing them back in order. I put them in a clear plastic sleeve inside the binder to make sure they didn’t go everywhere again.
“Maybe we need to set you up somewhere. Should I clear the dining room table for you?”
I looked up at him. I had considered asking, but now it seemed wrong. “No, it’s fine, I can manage.”
“Birdie, this is your house. You should have a space to work while you’re here.”
“It’s not. It’s your house. I just… own it,” I said lamely.
Gramps laughed. “I understand, but there are still two empty bedrooms, a dining room, and a junk room. If we can’t find you a space to work safely in all of those…”
I smiled. “I just don’t want to mess up your house.”
He shook his head, but he was still laughing. “I’ll see what I can do. Consider it your Christmas present.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Anytime.” He grinned. “Your grandmother wants you to see the lights be switched on. Beatrix is the bloody mascot.”
“The pig is the mascot for the light switch-on?”
“Yep. She knitted her a new jumper and everything.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ. Isn’t that going a bit far?”
“Everything is a bit far as far as that pig is concerned. I had to share my cheese sandwich with it earlier.” He huffed, sitting down on the other end of the sofa. “I’m going to switch to ham. She won’t make me share that with the pig.”
I pressed my lips together to stifle a laugh. “Are you sure she’ll even allow pork in the house? I know she eats it, but I think she pretends she’s not eating it.”
“That’s why I need to get you an office. I’ll put a mini fridge in there for my bacon. I miss bacon.”
“Ah, I see. There’s the ulterior motive I was looking for.”
“We all have to work together here, you know.”
“That is how you got the outdoor lights up. Working together with Julian,” I pointed out. “From the safety of the ground.”
Gramps sniffed. “I’m too old for those ladders.”
I wasn’t going to disagree there. “What about the tree? I’m surprised Nana hasn’t had a fit about the baubles not being on yet.”
“I don’t see her getting them out of the attic,” he replied.
“They’re in the dining room,” I replied. “Julian got them out two days ago.”
Gramps grimaced. “I was hoping nobody would notice that.”
“I’ll do it tomorrow when she’s at lunch with Veronica and Audrey.” I rolled my eyes, then slid my gaze towards him. “If you make dinner.”
Gramps inclined his head in interest. “What do you want?”
“Your beef stew.”
“Are you buying the ingredients?”
“I’m decorating the tree for you,” I retorted. “You can buy them when you drop her off.”
He eyed the seven-foot-tall tree for a moment before turning back to me. “All right. Deal.”
I reached over and held out my hand, which he shook, and the deal was done. “I’m glad you don’t spit on your palm these days.”
“You should count yourself lucky spit was all you had to shake. Your cousin had a habit of shoving his hand down his pants before making a deal.”
I shuddered. “That’s why I never made a deal with Simon. I was smarter than that.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s why your sister didn’t invite him to the wedding.”
“I can’t lie and say I wasn’t happy when I didn’t see his name.”
“Your aunt was furious.”
“Aunt Shelly is always furious. You should have heard her on the phone when she received the invitation. When I stopped answering her calls, she emailed me no less than eight times demanding to know why my heathen of a sister was sullying the birthday of Christ with her impure wedding.”
Gramps stared at me for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her go out with that bloke who thinks he’s a priest. He’s no priest. He’s just a nutjob.”
“Yeah. Someone should have Mum check the wedding gifts before Hazel gets at them. There’s probably a voucher for their so-called spiritual retreat to cleanse her and Julian of their sins,” I warned him. “Aunt Shelly made it very clear she wasn’t buying off the registry.”
“Now do you understand why I insisted you and your sister get this house? God knows what she’d have done with my money. She’d have set up a cult.”
“Gramps, you still have plenty of money. She’s going to get it anyway.”
He grinned. “That’s what she thinks.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not funding that ruddy pyramid scheme of a religion that charlatan is running, and that’s all you need to know about it.” He stood up with a little, “oof,” and headed in the direction of the dining room. “Right. I’ll get you those Christmas balls.”
I stared after him for a moment, then shook my head as I turned my attention back to my work.