Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Beatrice comes over and gets on the couch beside me. She turns in a circle before falling down and putting her head on my lap. “We don’t like when people talk gibberish to us. Remember, that’s rule number one.” I pet her head, and she takes a deep huff. “So we are going to mind our business with the girl next door and not provoke her. Do you hear me?” I look down at Beatrice, who now perks up when she sees something. I make the mistake of looking out the window and I can see her auburn hair blowing in the wind. She stands on the dock with her phone in her hand as she holds it up, showing the boat. “Where is her husband?” I ask Beatrice, who tilts her head to the side as she looks outside, her tail hitting the couch. I watch my neighbor as she laughs, shaking my head. She’s getting too close to the edge, I think in my head, and it annoys me even more that I give a shit. “Like, who lets their woman bring all that shit onto the boat by herself?” I look down at Beatrice, who I swear gives me a smirk. “I wasn’t watching her, okay? She was making noise, and all I did was look over the bench, and I saw her, okay?” She gives me a sure look before she puts her head back down on my lap.
I turn my head to face the television, switching the channels, until I settle down on a golf game. “Tiger Woods, I think he’s going to make a comeback,” I state, slouching sideways. It takes me maybe ten minutes before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, only waking when Beatrice jumps off the couch and walks over to the door and scratches the glass. I open my eyes, stretching. “What time is it?” I grab my phone and press the button on the side and it shows me it’s almost six o’clock. “Damn,” I curse, getting up. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” I ask Beatrice, who waits by the door. “Let me go to the bathroom and then we’ll leave,” I tell her, jogging down the steps going to the bathroom and then rushing back. “I even washed my hands,” I joke with her, grabbing the leash. “Now remember what I said.” I look down at her as I grab the handle of the door. “We don’t like new people.” I pull it open. “We don’t need friends.” I step out and slide my shoes on. “Smile and wave,” I mumble to her as I step off the boat with her following me. I force myself not to look onto her boat, even though my curiosity is killing me. I walk down the dock, my stomach grumbles when the smell of a barbecue grill fills the air. I take a second to look up and see that most of the people on the boats are starting to sit down and have dinner. I walk up the ramp and press the button. “Beatrice,” I call her name. “Leash,” I say, tying her up on her leash. In the morning, when it's dead, I don’t bother, but at night, more people are out, and just in case another dog gets loose, I can protect her.
We do our routine walk around the park, and when we get back, she’s panting for water. I step onto the boat, opening the back door, and she goes straight to her bowl. “Thirsty?” I ask her as I walk over to the fridge, grabbing my own bottle of water. I lean back on the counter and see the lights in the boat next door are on. “Guess they are staying on the boat tonight.” I look over at Beatrice, who walks over to her bed and lies down. “What do you want to eat for dinner?” I ask her, opening the fridge and grabbing stuff to make a salad, placing it on the counter before going back to the fridge. “Chicken or beef?” I ask her while I open the fridge, taking out the beef. “Beef it is.”
I turn on the television while I prep my salad. I put the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers in a bowl on the counter, grabbing the steak and walking out to slap it on the grill. I open the door, take a step out, and stop in my tracks, with one hand on the door and the other holding the plate. She sits at the small table outside her door, which is right next to my grill. A glass of white wine is in the middle of the table, her feet on the chair next to her, as she looks down at the book in her hand. I’m about to take a step back when Beatrice barks and her head comes up. I’m going to kill her, I think to myself when she walks over to the side of the boat, trying to smell her from our side. “Hi there.” She smiles at Beatrice and then looks over at me. “Nice night, isn’t it?” she says, sitting up and all I can do is nod at her.