Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
By the by, he showed me his place. It was a nondescript townhouse with more space than mine, with another bedroom and a dining area. He didn’t have a lot of boxes, but as he’d said, most of his stuff was still packed. My kitchen was better than his, there was no personality to the place, and wouldn’t be, even if he unpacked, and thus, we spent only a few nights there, and all the rest, Cap was at mine.
He even managed to squeeze some of his shirts, jeans, pants and cargoes into my closet, and I’d managed to free up space in a drawer (I was planning an epic trip to the Container Store to do some organizing and hack some space, and Harlow, who had a talent at this, had already been over to assess and “draft a sketch” (her words), so I was thinking good things).
By the by part two, as he said he would, Cap had looked into my new landlord and shared nothing was amiss. Indeed, Dreamweaver, Inc. owned a variety of rental properties in four states: Arizona, California, New Mexico and Colorado. And every time they bought one, they not only instigated updates and upgrades with a lean into eco-consciousness, they froze rent rates for one to two years.
“People leave,” was Cap’s reply to my assertion.
“Not the Oasis,” I returned.
We would find it was Robyn going, and because I still thought this was suspicious, I nosed around (by that I meant I went to her door, knocked and asked), and she said, “I’ve been thinking of going for months, Raye. Jacob getting with Alexis cut it. They’re always making out in the pool. Or on a lounger. It’s gross. I don’t need to come home to that. My lease is up, so I’m out.”
Jacob and Alexis weren’t gross, but whatever.
Different strokes.
And Jessie wouldn’t care that Jacob and Alexis were open with how into each other they were, so Robyn out and Jess in worked for everybody.
Thus, on November first, the Hottie Squad was requisitioned again, and Jessie was in, just a few doors down from me.
Oh yeah.
That worked for everybody.
Make no mistake, when the news hit the media that the cretin who killed seven little boys also killed five little girls, for me, it was like a slap.
Enter stage left was a hassle I could do without, when a bunch of reporters called me, emailed me or hung out by the gate trying to get to me.
This didn’t last very long, and it wasn’t Cap who accomplished it, but our illustrious landlord who called the police, shared that gate was on private property, so they could fuck off (I doubt the cops used the F-word, but whatever, they fucked off).
It was reported to me they hung around at the two entrances for a few days, but since those days were the ones I spent the night at Cap’s, after I hung up on them without fail without saying anything (and Dad and Deb did too), some other juicy story struck, and they disappeared.
This could also be because Martha made it her pastime to go out and harangue them as vultures who fed off misery, demanding to know how they could sleep at night when my family went through what we went through, and they were harassing me.
And as we all knew, when Martha had a bee in her bonnet, her words were not few and she dedicated her existence to whatever it took to complete her task.
Though, I’d never know which it was, because I wasn’t going to ask.
Nevertheless, they had my name, and they printed it.
Therefore, I suspected this was why the reverend found time to sit down with Ben and Emily, Elsie Fay’s parents.
So I guessed it was no surprise they showed at The Surf Club one day (though, I was curious to know how they knew where I worked, and suspected that had something to do with NI&S, where I apparently moonlighted when I wasn’t serving according to Mace and Cap’s statement to the police, however, when I asked, Cap told me no one there said anything, therefore, it was a longshot, but I thought it might be Arthur).
They sat at the bar.
Lucia made Elsie Fay a hot fudge sundae, something we didn’t have on the menu.
We talked while I worked.
Gratitude and sadness shone in Emily’s eyes when she looked at me, anger and protectiveness in Ben’s, and I found it uncomfortable.
But soon, Tito came over and took a stool by them, starting a quiet conversation, which freed me to gab with Elsie Fay.
Her favorite color was purple, and her mom and dad got her a kitty she named Tuna, and she was going to take skiing lessons…finally…after she’d begged…for years…when they went to Flagstaff to spend Christmas with her grandparents.
In other words, bottom line, their visit worked for me.