Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“Think of me when you take a bite of these,” she’d told Torri, as they stored the jars of cinnamon apples in the special walk-in pantry Grandpa Pete had built for her. “And remember how much I love you.”
“I remember, Nana,” Torri whispered, tears springing to her eyes as she looked around at the familiar space. She was glad she hadn’t given in to Chuck, when he pressured her to sell it.
“What are we supposed to do with it? It’s not close enough to our jobs for us to live there,” he’d said. “It’s just a drain on our bank account.”
“I’ll pay for it,” Torri had said. She had made certain the utilities were taken care of, linking them to her private account so the money would come out automatically. Now she was glad she had done so. There was still electricity and heat and running water—all of which she intended to use liberally—even if they were only spending one night.
“This is a lovely domicile,” Vic remarked, looking around at the high, cathedral ceiling of the A-shaped main part of the cabin. “I don’t think you’ve ever brought me inside before when we were Dream Sharing.”
“No, we mostly stayed in the meadow, didn’t we?” Torri murmured. “I think I thought it would make me sad to come inside, because I would miss my Nana too much. It feels so empty without her here.”
“I’m sorry.” Vic put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “You were very close to her, weren’t you?”
Torri nodded.
“She and Grandpa Pete raised me after my mom died. She was wonderful.” She sighed. “Well, I really want a hot shower and then we should probably get to bed.” She glanced at him. “Do you want a shower too?”
“I wouldn’t mind one,” he admitted. “But you go first—unless there is more than one bathing facility?”
“Nope—afraid not.” Torri shook her head. “The problem with this place is that even though the design is so airy and it lets in a lot of natural light, there’s not a lot of room. That’s why Grandpa Pete built on the addition once I moved in with them.” She nodded to the side of one sloping wall, where a doorway led into the rectangular partition of the cabin. “My old room is through there. Come on.”
Vic followed her as Torri snapped on the light in her old bedroom. Nana had kept it just like she’d had it in high school. There were boy band posters on the walls and a small collection of bright nail polish bottles—their contents probably dried up by now—sat on a small silver tray on the dresser. The bed was queen-sized with one of Nana’s beloved patchwork quilts covering it.
“This is your room—where you are going to sleep?” Vic asked her.
Torri nodded.
“It’s going to feel strange sleeping here without Nana in the next room, but it’s nice to be someplace so familiar, you know?”
Vic nodded. He looked around the room at the boy band posters. “Do you know any of these humans?”
“Er…not personally. These are all pictures of musicians I liked when I was younger,” she tried to explain. “Please don’t judge me by the posters I picked when I was sixteen, okay?”
“Of course not.” Vic shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling. Where would you like me to sleep?” he asked.
“Oh, well…the only other bedroom in the house was Nana’s. I just…don’t like the idea of anyone sleeping in her bed, if that’s okay with you,” Torri said apologetically.
“I understand,” he said. “I can sleep on the floor if you like.”
“Oh the floor? Of course not!” Torri exclaimed. “I was thinking…” She felt her cheeks getting hot. “Well, I guess I thought you could sleep with me. I mean, not have sex or anything like that,” she added quickly. “Just sleep. If…that’s all right with you?”
Vic gave her a warm smile.
“More than all right, Torri,” he said softly.
Torri felt her cheeks getting even hotter.
“Okay, well—make yourself at home. I’m just going to, er, go take a shower and change into my, uh, nightgown.”
“I’ll wait for you here,” Vic murmured.
“I won’t be long,” Torri promised. Taking her duffle bag, she went back to the main part of the cabin and climbed the spiral staircase that led up to the small top area, which had been converted to an airy bathroom by Grandpa Pete.
Shedding her clothes, Torri stepped into the first really hot shower she’d had in months. It was a pleasure to let the steaming water rain down on her body and to wash her hair with shampoo that didn’t smell like medicine. She also took the opportunity to shave her legs, armpits, and pubic area. She hadn’t been allowed to use a razor of any kind at St. Elizabeth’s unless a caretaker watched her at all times, so she had gone without shaving for the past three months. It felt wonderful to be smooth again—which was how she had always preferred herself.