Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“BEER!”
“Now I know you’ve lost your complete mind!” Poet giggled. “You’re like a Gizmo. You turn into a monster, a straight up gremlin if you get wet—with alcohol, that is.”
She heard her aunt grumbling in the living room. Poet finished setting up Aunt Huni’s lunch tray, all arranged and finished with a tiny dark pink flower from the garden, set in a small white vase she’d picked up from a yard sale five years ago. Aunt Huni sat on the large beige couch, her long legs stretched out in front of her, and her feet, clad in brown slip on sneakers she’d worn down to the ground, resting on the coffee table. Her aunt smiled down at the food, showing her appreciation with a bright grin.
She was always so grateful, even when she was in a bad mood. Aunt Huni’s straight silver hair was threaded with strands of jet black, matching the thin arch of her brows. Her sand-colored skin had a pinkish hue along the brow, cheeks and chin. Her hooded dark brown eyes focused on the barbecue chips and pickle spear on the plate. All arranged perfectly next to her favorite onion and cheese sandwich.
“T’ank you, bae-bee.” Aunt Huni smacked her gums after tasting. “It’s good.”
“I know you were hungry, and you’re welcome, as always.” Oftentimes Huni would make her own lunch, but Poet was a bit worried when the old woman messed around with the oven while alone. One time, she’d forgotten she was frying a pork chop, walked off, and about burned the kitchen down. Thankfully, she remembered where the fire extinguisher was and put it out, but the smoke alarms had already been tripped, and the police and fire department showed up, too.
“You need anything else?”
Aunt Huni nodded, pointing to the remote. Poet grabbed it and turned the channel. She’d gotten a new television, and her aunt wasn’t quite certain how to use it just yet, especially not the DVR where Huni taped all of her favorite Filipino soap operas and cooking shows. A bit of a learning curve. Huni picked up her sandwich and began devouring it with both of her tiny hands while watching some show called ‘Paradise,’ on Hulu.
“You should watch this!” Huni exclaimed around a mouthful of food.
“You know if I get sucked in, I won’t get any work done. I have a lot on my plate right now with the museum. They are creating a new display. North American beaver, scientific name, Castor canadensis. Did you know some people hunt beavers for food?”
“Mmm hmm. My friend Kathy from Alaska says she eats beaver. So did my husband.”
“Huni!”
Huni burst out laughing and slapped her knee, turning red in the face. Poet choked down a laugh. She didn’t want to encourage the woman.
Aunt Huni became laser focused on her show, and Poet found herself drifting away. Sailing on a daydream. She’d worked half a day, as expected, and came home at lunchtime to find Huni all washed up, and her hair combed. The woman had even cleaned the dishes in the sink, swept and mopped the floor, and folded up some bathroom towels. Every couple of weeks she’d have a maid service come in and help out since her work schedule had become damn near impossible. Huni seemed to take exception to that, demanding that she could take care of it herself. She also insisted that Poet not hire a babysitter for her—stressing that anyone could have forgotten their food on the stove.
She was right. Anyone could have, but she also let Huni know that if anything like that happened again, she’d be hiring a full-time nurse. The woman didn’t like that too much, but there was no need to beat around the bush. Despite all that, today had been a good day, indeed.
“Huni, did you take your pills this mornin’?”
“Yes, Mama,” Huni teased while rolling her eyes. Poet knew it was hard for her—she’d been so independent, outgoing and feisty. But things happened… people changed…
Sometimes Huni had sporadic bouts of misperception, and depression. Those were always the most challenging moments, but Poet refused to allow her to be placed in some hospital or home just yet. The woman was still in her right mind for the most part, could walk straight, speak her mind, and do many of the things she loved. Besides, she was family. The only family Poet had truly known.
“Did you give Helen her bunny?” Huni blurted when a commercial came on.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot to update you on that. She cried tears of joy. He looked just perfect.”
“That’s nice,” the woman said cheerfully before taking a taste of her tea. “Needs more sugar.”
“And you’ll need more emergency room visits, apparently, because that’s where you’ll end up if I add any more sugar!”
Huni burst out laughing and shook her head, then focused on the television again.