Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
But when they mention development, my interest is piqued, and I slow my progress to a crawl. I wonder if Dad is behind it while I pretend to compare cuts of beef.
“Now, hold on, Joanie. You can’t pretend they haven’t done good things.” The man behind the counter shrugs when she rolls her eyes and scoffs with the middle-aged woman standing next to her. “Look at what they did with the rec center. Look at all their work along Main Street, with the trees, benches, etc. They cleaned up the park and put in new equipment. They fixed up the abandoned houses on Wakefield and Monroe.”
“Right, and then the property values skyrocket, and our taxes go up, and nobody can afford to live here, anyway. Ever heard of gentrification? Hard-working people get pushed out of their homes and their neighborhoods are so rich people can move in.” I don’t know Joanie, but she sounds pissed. A glimpse of her red face confirms this.
“All I know is, I feel a lot safer letting my kids walk around.”
“You sound like that Chaz what’s-his-name at the real estate office,” Joanie’s friend snickers. “Talking about how good it is that he’s got all these properties to sell when the families who lived there for twenty or thirty years are getting pushed out. He talks about getting fresh blood around here and revitalizing the neighborhood. We all know what that’s code for.”
“Yeah,” Joanie agrees with a bitter laugh. “You’re too poor to live here now.”
I keep moving, and soon, their bickering blends in with the rest of the noise around me. Is that how people see it? Now that I’ve heard Joanie, whoever she is, put it that way, I can understand why people might be against the improvements Dad has poured so much money into. I wonder if Romero knows anything about this.
The thought of Chaz Drummond makes my nose wrinkle as I grab a dozen eggs to add to the basket I’m carrying over one arm. Before putting them in, I check to ensure they’re all intact – something Romero drilled into my head. Now I feel stupid for not thinking of it before. But there was a lot about life that I didn’t know before we came here. There I was, thinking I had everything worked out, as if there was nothing I needed anybody to explain. I was jaded, for sure. Dad showed me the world, and I figured that was all there was to it. Who cared about things like learning how to grocery shop and stuff like that? I prided myself on being independent, but a few months around here showed me how wrong I was.
Chaz Drummond. No, I wouldn’t be too happy with a sleazeball like him creeping around, offering to sell my house for me. He’d be lucky if I didn’t slam the door in his smug face. So that’s what he’s doing around here – I’ve been wondering, but not enough that I wanted to see him in person. I’m not that curious. I wonder if Dad knows how unhappy people are with what I know he’s doing to be helpful and supportive. I think I’ll ask him about it next time we talk. Just like him, overlooking public response. So busy with all the other things on his plate. He expects them to be happy and grateful.
I wonder if there’s something I could do about it.
It’s still on my mind as I walk back to the house with a bag in each arm. It would’ve been smarter to bring the car, but I was still sort of in a fog when I left the house. The same fog I’ve been in for days, thanks to Romero. I’ve always known he had it in him to drive me crazy. I just never knew it would be like this, with him giving me multiple orgasms daily.
The thought makes me blush while my pussy gets moist. Not like that’s anything new. I’m walking around soaking wet pretty much all the time anymore. It’s all thanks to him. I didn’t know I could be like this, that I could ever feel so secure again. Like I’m able to totally be myself, no hesitation, no shame or fear. He would probably think it was corny if I thanked him, but I feel I should. Maybe I’ll make a nice dinner tonight – I picked up a couple of steaks, thinking he would like a hearty meal. Perhaps I’ll get up the courage to tell him how much being with him meant. He’s given me so much more than I thought I’d ever have again.
“Dammit,” I growl when one of the bags starts to slip out of my grip. I might have overdone it a little while shopping, but we’re out of so many things. I stop at the closest stair and put the bags down, then shake out my arms to get the blood flowing again. I haven’t even turned off the street yet, and they’re aching. I probably look like a complete idiot — some things might have changed, but I still care how I look out in public. I glance around, expecting to find those shitty kids laughing or something. They might be Mrs. Cooper’s new best friends, but that doesn’t mean they’ve become gentlemen overnight.