Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
My mother says I should cut back, but the mortgage on the catering office isn’t going to pay itself and I’m already booked six months in advance. Even if I started cutting back now, I wouldn’t see a respite from the hectic pace for at least six months. In the meantime, I’d fall behind on my bills.
I also have to pay my home mortgage alone these days, another thing I didn’t plan on when my current work schedule was put into motion.
“Fuckity fuck fuck,” I mutter, deciding to put it out of my mind for now. I’ll pop in, check on the Boudreaux family, deliver my gift, and then head home and scroll through my phone for options.
I pull up in Delores’s driveway and swing out with my bag of goodies in hand, only to nearly drop everything when a harsh voice rasps from behind the shrubs nearby, “Don’t go in there! It isn’t safe.”
I step around the hedge to see Aaron in a lawn chair pulled up in front of a fire pit. He’s bundled head to toe in a floor-length blue coat with the hood pulled so far over his head, nothing shows except his face. He looks like a giant puffy worm.
A sickly, stressed-out worm…
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Why are you out here in the cold? You should be inside, staying warm and resting.”
He gives a small shake of his head and lifts haunted eyes to mine. “Listen.”
I frown. “Listen to what? I—”
“Listen,” he cuts in, his eyes flaring wide. “There. You have to hear it. I bet the entire block can hear it. The entire subdivision.”
I fall silent and almost instantly I do hear it, moans and groans and a high-pitched keening sound that reminds me of the time I caught my grandmother’s cats having violent cat sex in the shed.
Only this isn’t cat sex.
It’s…
“Old people sex,” Aaron says, as if he’s read my mind. “That’s what you’re hearing—old people. Having sex. Loudly. And it isn’t the first time today. They were at it during lunch when they thought I was napping, too.” He swallows and shakes his head again. “I’m not okay, Melissa. Not even a little bit. Nora said I could stay with her, but she only has a tiny one-bedroom apartment, and she and Matty are at it all the time, too. Please, help me. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”
Anything, huh?
Hmm…
Chapter 8
Aaron
I’ve never been so happy in my life.
I would say it’s the drugs, but I’m not a fan of painkillers, even ones that don’t make me want to toss my cookies.
It’s hope that has me high and feeling no pain as I lead the way into the guest room and tug my gear bag out from under the bed with my good arm. “Gram insisted on unpacking everything this morning, but I can be packed up again in five minutes.” I toe open the bag and start pulling out drawers.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Melissa asks. “You should be resting.”
“I won’t be resting while I’m babysitting tomorrow afternoon,” I say, tossing underwear and socks into the open bag. “Gotta get back in the game sometime. I’m feeling a lot better than I did last night. Hardly any pain at all as long as I stay medicated and don’t think about it too much.”
This is a lie.
My shoulder feels like it’s full of hot, angry rocks and the wound at my neck is tight and sore, but I want it to be true.
That’s the important thing. I think.
Maybe the painkillers are clouding my thoughts a little more than I assumed when I was dragging the lawn chair out of the garage and building a fire in the front yard…
Melissa shifts in front of me and gently pushes me back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Right. Sounds like a good way to make things worse.” She closes the empty drawer and starts loading jeans and t-shirts into the bag. “You won’t need to do any heavy lifting with Chase tomorrow. My sister will drop him off at my house after school and carry him inside. Once he’s in, you’re golden. He’ll play with his toys, eat snacks and chill. You’ll only have to keep him entertained for a couple hours until I’m home at five-thirty or six.”
“And in exchange, I get to stay with you for as long as I need?” I ask, still pretty sure this deal is too good to be true.
“Yes, but I’ll probably need help more than once,” she says, moving on to the sweatshirts. “I still haven’t adjusted to the whole single-parent thing. Having adult backup at my place for the next month or so will really help with the learning curve.”
“And it’ll keep me from gouging out my eardrums. It’s a win-win.” I pause, making a gagging face as the wall-pounding sounds start back up again from the other room. “How are they still going at it? Viagra has to be involved, right? No way a seventy-something-year-old man has that kind of stamina without chemical intervention.”