Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I’m getting more and more worked up as I tell the story, recalling the way he looked at me. While the police officers got autographs and whatnot, Henderson kept staring down his nose at me as if I was the one found naked and ransacking the house.
Deep belly laughing comes through the phone. “His ding-dong? Who are you, my nana DeSantis?”
This is not funny to me. “He trashed your house,” I add, knowing that will get her full attention.
“He what? You better be joking.” The humor is suddenly and conspicuously nowhere to be found.
“It’s a mess. I don’t think he broke anything but it looks like he threw a frat party.”
“Dammit,” she quietly huffs. “Hold on, your brother just walked in.” Then I hear, “Who’s staying at the beach house? You told me? When did you tell me?…No, you didn’t, Boo. No––you didn’t.” More murmuring follows. A moment later I hear, “Mandy––”
“Yeah?”
A heavy sigh comes through the phone. “Your brother told Grant Hendricks he could stay at the house for as long as he needs to. He’s recovering from spinal surgery. I knew nothing about this because I wasn’t told.” Then I hear, “––then you must’ve told a sister wife cuz ya didn’t tell me.”
My stomach pitches at the prospect of seeing this guy day in and day out. I don’t want to be in the same state with him, let alone under the same roof. Lord knows why he hates me, and it’s obvious he does. Subtlety is not his style. He looks at me like every sin I’ve ever committed is tattooed on my skin. I already have an entire collection of luggage filled with shame I carry around on a daily basis, I really don’t need to get it from a stranger who doesn’t have the right to judge me.
“As long as he needs to?” I repeat dejectedly while staring at the beautiful home where inside a monster lurks. “How long is that? You know I can’t find a place around here last minute. Everything’s booked months in advance.”
“The house comfortably sleeps ten. That’s more than enough space for you two to avoid each other. He can stay in the guest room on the other side of the house.”
“I have to share the house with the angry dude?” I whine in a last ditch attempt to get her to kick him out. I am not beyond begging. I’m really not. “He’s going to seriously mess up my positive vibes.”
“Maybe you just caught him at a bad time. He’s usually a big teddy bear. ”
“A teddy bear?” I snort. I think of the bands of sculpted muscle running across his back, the glutes that looked carved out of stone. No. This dude is more grizzly than teddy bear. There’s nothing, literally nothing soft about him. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same dude?”
“Really, he’s harmless. You don’t have to worry about him around Sam. You know I would never––”
“I know,” I say, interrupting. In the end, I don’t really have a choice. I can’t afford the beyond-exorbitant rent even the smallest rooms fetch in this town so there’s no use in even trying to look for another place.
“Mandy?”
“Yeah?”
“Trust me, he’s one of the good guys.”
Riiight. Not even Camilla could get me to believe that. “We’ll make do,” is the only honest response I can give her.
So much for peace and quiet. This guy has shattered what was supposed to be my solace. I’m stuck living with Sir Gregor Clegane, for the foreseeable future. Yippee! Fun times ahead.
Ending the call, I stare at the front door, figuring how best to handle this. Miss Parnell’s words to me come echoing back, the only things of any value from my childhood. Or rather, from when I was a child. I never really had a childhood. Not in the true definition of the word anyway.
My parents were devoted to three things: booze, each other, and screwing. Not sure which one ranked at the top but the last one produced eight kids, yours truly being the second eldest.
It sounds inconceivable that a woman who I’ve seen sober only a handful of times could pop out eight healthy kids and yet Suzanne Shaw managed it. Besides bringing us into this world, my parents didn’t do much else for us. Calvin is the person who took care of us––him and Ebony Parnell.
For as long as I can remember Miss Parnell lived in the trailer next door and for as long as I can remember she helped us out. We’d find formula and diapers, detergent, milk––anything we needed we’d find it on our front step almost on a daily basis. Having spent her entire life since she’d turned fourteen cleaning other people’s homes, Miss Parnell didn’t have much to give. And yet whatever she did have she shared with us without even waiting for a thank you.