Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I spent the next hour putting clothes away and trying to organize a bit. Eventually, I laid down on my back and stared at the ceiling while I listened to the old house creak and the rest of my housemates moving around the place. Charlie dropped her towels off the top of the stairs and yelled, “Heads up!” making me chuckle. It was kind of nice hearing other people doing their thing. The halfway house I’d just moved out of had been pretty quiet. No one had wanted to be there and most didn’t want to make friends either, so there hadn’t been a ton of interaction. I grimaced thinking of the only real time I’d hung out with my housemates—my first night out when another of the boarders had come into my room interested in one thing. It had been a while and she was attractive, so I’d been more than willing. But she hadn’t talked to me the next day and honestly, I’d been kind of fine with it. I’d later realized that she never slept with the same person twice—she was only interested in the new boarders. I didn’t fault her for it—but it wasn’t really my thing. I’d steered clear of everyone after that.
Eventually I must have fallen asleep because I woke up later to Charlie standing over the bed, her hand on my shoulder.
“It’s just me,” she said, flexing her hand. That’s when I’d realized that I had her wrist gripped tightly in my fist.
“Sorry,” I replied hoarsely, letting go like her arm was on fire.
“No worries,” she said, giving me a small smile. “I shouldn’t have startled you.”
“I hurt you?” I asked, sitting up in bed.
“Please,” she scoffed. “I’m made of stronger stuff than that. I brought your sheets.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said, still a little fuzzy as I stood up.
“You stay on this side and I’ll do the other side,” she ordered, rounding the bed.
“I can do it,” I replied as she swung the bottom sheet out over the bed.
“It’s so much easier when there are two people,” she responded with a grin, continuing with what she was doing. “I’ll just help you real quick and then get out of your hair.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, reaching for my side of the sheet. “You don’t need to go anywhere. I like it when you’re here. Thanks again for doing this.”
“Sure,” she replied. “I was happy to help. Oh—I have something else for you.”
She straightened out her side of the top sheet and walked quickly out of the room. When she came back a minute later, she had a quilt in her hands.
“Help me put this on,” she ordered, unfolding it.
The quilt had a geometric pattern done in all grays and blues. Some of the pieces were solid, some were striped, some had tiny flowers and some looked almost tie-dyed, but they all somehow fit perfectly into the design. In my experience most quilts looked like they belonged to little old ladies that had a bunch of cats, but this one didn’t by any stretch. It was honestly one of the most masculine quilts I’d ever seen, even the flowers didn’t look girly.
“There,” Charlie said. She tossed a pillow at me so I could put a pillowcase on it and started on the other one.
“That isn’t the blanket I used the other night,” I said as I copied her movements.
“Nope,” she replied. “This my friend, is a Rose Butler original.”
“Cool,” I said, nodding. “Who’s Rose Butler?”
“My grandma,” Charlie replied with a laugh. “Technically my great grandma, but whatever. She was a quilter and this is one of hers. Me and Kara saved the quilts before my parents’ house burned down.”
I was just about to drop the pillow onto the bed when I froze. “I can’t use your great grandma’s blanket.”
“Well, she’s not using it,” Charlie said dryly. “She died before I was born.”
“Where’s that blanket from last night,” I asked, glancing from her to the quilt and back again. “I’ll just use that one.”
“This is nicer,” Charlie replied simply.
“Charlie,” I argued as she sat down on the bed. “No. What if I fuck it up?”
“Planning on using power tools in bed?” she asked sarcastically.
“I could spill something on it,” I replied, staring at the quilt.
“It’ll wash.”
“I could stain it.”
“Then it’ll have a little more character than it had before,” she said, staring at me like I had two heads. “What is your deal?”
“This is a fucking—” I paused to find the right words. “family heirloom.”
Charlie snorted. “Chill,” she said, leaning toward me a little. “Seriously. We are not that fancy. The quilts were made to be used and this one looks great with your new stuff. I knew it would.”
“They’re made to be used by your family.”
“Look,” she said, patting the bed so I’d sit down. She stared at me until I gingerly dropped my ass to the bed. Were my jeans clean? I hadn’t worked that day, but I had been moving furniture and shit and who knew what I’d picked up—