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)
“You forgot,” I said blithely, unwinding my scarf from around my neck. “What is for lunch?”
Hazel blinked, pushing her highlighted caramel hair behind her ear. “Uh… Julian?”
He chuckled while he unzipped his coat. “She isn’t lying. She didn’t forget. She simply assigned me to the task when she couldn’t decide what to get.”
I pressed my lips together and looked at my little sister. What a load of bullshit.
Gramps was right. Julian was a simp.
“Well, you weren’t supposed to rat me out,” she huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Now I’m glad I ate your sandwich.”
“You ate my sandwich?”
“She didn’t eat your sandwich,” Nana called. “Will you come and get your food before the pig does?”
I paused.
The pig?
“The pig?” I questioned, filing into the kitchen after everyone else. “Why would a pig—”
Ah.
The pig.
The pig.
The one that had held me up last night.
It was standing in the middle of the kitchen.
“Oh,” I said flatly.
“This is Beatrix Trotter,” Nana said brightly, bending down to feed Beatrix bloody Trotter a carrot stick.
The little pink and black pig munched it down with the table manners of a nine-month-old baby eating spaghetti Bolognese for the first time.
“Nana, I’ve told you! You can’t feed farm animals from the kitchen! It’s illegal!” Hazel took the remaining carrot sticks from her.
“Really? That’s the issue here? Not that there’s a bloody pig in the kitchen?” I asked, looking around. “Surely that’s unsanitary.”
“Pigs are surprisingly clean animals, and I’ll thank you to keep your dirty insults to yourself. You might upset Beatrix.” Nana sniffed.
Gramps shook his head, walked past her to the spread of goodies from the Castleton Bakery, and grabbed a plate.
Fine. Whatever.
“But what’s it doing here?” I questioned.
“She. It is a she.”
“That doesn’t answer my question!”
“Here we go,” Hazel muttered, giving Julian a plate with his still-wrapped sandwich on. “Don’t worry. It didn’t touch anything else. I kept it separate.”
“Thanks, honey.” He kissed her cheek and took it off to the side.
Of course. He had a severe gluten intolerance. That was the reason their entire wedding menu was gluten-free, and it’d taken me surprisingly long to find a caterer who could stick to such strict parameters.
But that wasn’t the point here.
The pig was the point.
“Nana, the pig! How did it get here and why was it running around the roads last night when I was on my way here?” I demanded.
Nana clasped her hand to her chest, then picked up what I was now sure was a miniature pig.
At least I hoped it was a miniature pig. I didn’t fancy a fully-grown pig snorting its way through what was technically my house.
“Beatrix, did you get out again? I’ve told you about that!” Nana scolded her.
Gramps sighed into his sandwich as my sister and Julian edged away from the kitchen.
“Your sandwich is still on the right,” Hazel whispered, slipping past me.
“I told you the cat flap was a bad idea,” Gramps grumbled, following my sister out. “At least without setting the app up.”
“I can’t work that blasted thing,” Nana said, going after him. “I tried logging in, but it wouldn’t accept my name.”
“Did you make an account?” I questioned, sitting in the armchair by the undecorated Christmas tree.
“For what?”
“The cat flap app.”
“No,” Julian said. “I offered, but she thought I’d drop her phone. In all honesty, I’m surprised that dinosaur can handle any apps at all, and it definitely wouldn’t break even if I did drop it.”
That sounded like my grandmother.
For all Gramps’ bleating about the younger generations, she was the one who struggled with modern technology. He happened to be utterly fascinated by it.
Like a cat in front of a fish tank kind of fascinated.
Loved it, but not enough to do anything about it, mind you. Hence his own dinosaur phone.
I sighed. “I’ll figure it out,” I told her. “Although I’m not sure how I feel about a pig in the kitchen. Aside from the legalities of feeding farm animals from your house, it is unsanitary. And you’re technically supposed to notify your landlord of any pets,” I added with a look in Nana’s direction.
She deliberately avoided my gaze.
Imagine that.
“Thank you,” Hazel muttered, picking a big slice of tomato out of her sandwich.
“And pigs aren’t gluten-free,” Gramps interjected brightly.
Julian’s lips twitched. “As long as Beatrix didn’t touch my sandwich, we’re fine.”
“Beatrix wouldn’t touch anyone’s sandwich!” Nana insisted as the pig in question trotted into the living room and dropped to lie down in front of the fire.
We all looked at her.
Except Nana.
Who continued eating her pork sandwich like it was no big deal.
I wasn’t going to be the one who pointed out that she was eating one of Beatrix Trotter’s friends, that was for sure.
I drew in a deep breath before slowly letting it out and looked at Hazel. “Shall we get to the wedding stuff when we’re done?”