Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Horse: Sounds like fun. Bike broke down here
Me: That sucks. You have a car?
Horse: SUV. Good for getting around, esp in snow. Hate feeling caged tho. What you doing?
Me: In yard, catching sun.
Horse: What you wearing?
Me: Nothing. Working on tan all over
Horse: !!!! You fucking me????
Me: LOL I’m wearing a tee and shorts :->
Horse: Too good to be true. Going to try to make it down next week
Me: Give me heads up
Horse: I will. TTYL
Aug. 27
Me: Bored. Hows the bike?
Horse: Bored is better than barfed on. Bike up and running again.
Me: Congrats! Kind of excited, going out tonight. Friend Cara from HS came to visit from NY. Like old times
Horse: Out?
Me: Dancing in tri-cities. Some club. Gonna slut up and everything!
Horse: Huh. Be careful
Me: Always. Excited tho. Haven’t gone out since Gary
Horse: Looking for new man?
Me: Um…not really. Just fun
Horse: Watch out and don’t dress too slutty. Don’t want trouble
Me: Had enough trouble, trust me
Horse: True. Send me a pic later
Me: OK
Me: So what you think? Too slutty?
Horse: Hot. Definitely too slutty. Go change.
Me: Prude :-P
Horse: Text me when you get home
Me: Night gone to shit
Horse: ?
Me: Jeff is sick, really sick. Asked me to stay home with him. Thought I might have to take him to the hosp but all right now
Horse: That sucks. He okay?
Me: Think so. Getting checked tomorrow, stomach pain
Horse: Sorry
Me: Me too. Cara leaving tomorrow, so no party for me…
Aug. 28
Horse: Hows Jeff?
Me: Fine, like nothing happened. Doc says must have been gas
Horse: Heh
Me: Bad gas
Horse: Sorry about going out. Glad nobody saw you dressed like that
Me: Jealous? ;)
Horse: What do you think? Gotta go, church in a few
Me: Church?!?? Didn’t peg you for a church kind of guy
Horse: What we call a club meeting. I try to stay away from collection plates
Me: Don’t get holy water in your beer!
Sept. 1
Me: Going to see mom today. Hate jail
Horse: Watch out for LEO
Me: LEO?
Horse: Law enforcement officers. Jail crawling with them
Me: LOL. Cause I break so many laws?
Horse: No, cause you keep bad company :-> Social visit or something up?
Me: Just regular, try to go every week since closer now. Harder when I lived with Gary. Didn’t like me seeing her. Calls cost too much $ tho, so visiting important.
Horse: I get it. Got brothers inside. Hope visit is good
Me: Thanks
Horse: Send another pic?
Me: Um, not dressed up
Horse: Don’t care. Send it. Want to see you today
Me: Okay :)
I hate the county jail.
I’ve spent way too many hours in the waiting room, although I know it’s probably better than visiting a real prison. The county guys look at me like I’m trash and occasionally they cop a feel while patting me down.
That’s the price of seeing my mom.
They put me in a little room that had a built-in table, sort of like those tables at McDonald’s where you can’t move the chairs. But here the chairs are just stools and the whole thing is white. After a few minutes the door opened and Mom came in. She was wearing an orange jumpsuit, and even though it had to be the ugliest piece of clothing on earth, Mom looked fantastic. Seriously. My mom is hot, always has been, something that drove me crazy during high school. But from the way she walked, I could tell that her back was hurting worse than usual. She had a bunch of ruptured discs and no health insurance to fix them. The doctors wanted her to have surgery, but the county didn’t want to pay for it, so she was stuck in limbo.
I stood and hugged her.
“Hey, Mama,” I whispered into her hair, which looked fantastic even though she didn’t have any styling stuff or anything. How did her hair look better in jail than mine did after two hours fixing it? Just another part of the mystery that was my crazy, loving, incredibly-difficult-at-times mother.
“Hey, baby,” she replied, holding me tight. She smelled a little like cigarettes, which I know a lot of people find disgusting but I find strangely comforting—so long as it’s not totally filling our trailer with smoke. It made me think of when she’d come home late at night after work when we were little. She’d walk into the bedroom I shared with Jeff and kiss us both good night. That little hint of smoke was the smell of comfort and safety.
We separated and took seats.
“So how’s it going with you?” she asked. I’d put on lots of foundation to cover my bruises but her eyes flickered across them. “Gary?”
“Yeah,” I said, flushing. “I was stupid, went back there alone to get some stuff. He was drunk.”
Her mouth tightened, eyes filling with tears of anger or frustration, I couldn’t tell which.
“I wish I was out of here,” she said. “I’d kill that bastard.”
“Mom! Don’t talk like that, they’re probably listening—they’ll think you mean it.”