Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
At first I was just planning on walking to school or taking the bus since it was so close, but the weather has gotten worse and it’s been a godsend to have the SUV in the garage.
“I’m here, Mrs. Honey!” I call out as I come through the back door and into the kitchen.
“Oh, Liz, I can’t believe you were out in this weather. You didn’t have to make a special trip just for me, did you?”
“No, of course not,” I say, even though I kind of did. It doesn’t matter though, I got myself a few treats anyway, so it was worth it. “Did they come by and fill up your propane yet?”
“Yes, Phillip called and had them come out today and asked if there was anything I needed.” Her son might not come by a lot, but he does call and check on her. “I told him you were going to the store for me, and he said that he’ll leave some money for you on Wednesday when he comes by.”
“Thank you.” I tried to refuse the money before but she seemed hurt that I wouldn't take it. I decided that it would be easier to accept it, and being on a fixed budget, I couldn’t really turn it down much longer.
“How was class today?” she asks as she goes over to the pot on the stove and pours me some hot chocolate.
“It was great. I got to dissect a pig!” She turns around with wide eyes and I realize I might be the only one excited by this news. “Sorry, it was just a big day and I did really well.”
“That’s wonderful, dear. Congratulations.” I can see that she tries to stay positive as she hides her shock and horror and it almost makes me laugh.
“How was your day today? Did Patricia have the baby?” I ask as I take the warm mug and bring it to my lips.
“She did, but then Stefano switched it with Kim’s baby and now I’m afraid they’re going to take her to Canada and hide her with the mafia.”
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing because she takes her daytime soap operas very seriously. I nod along as she tells me the new storyline this week and I love to see how excited she gets when recounting it. We talk for a long time and laugh together. It’s one of the best parts of my day and I’m so thankful that I’m right next door to her.
“I made some extra soup for you to take home tonight. It’s going to get cold, so don’t stay too long,” Mrs. Honey says as she passes me a large Tupperware container of homemade chicken noodle.
“I think I can manage the quick walk without freezing to death,” I say, grabbing my coat and putting it on. “You be sure and call me if your power goes out or you need anything. I don’t plan on going anywhere tonight, but I’ll come over in the morning and we can finish watching season four of the Great British Baking Show.”
“Oh, if only I was your age, I’d chase down that Paul Hollywood and make a man out of him.”
“Mrs. Honey!” I shriek as I nearly double over with laughter. She winks at me and opens the back door, and I walk out.
I wait for a second until I hear the door lock and then go back to my place, shaking my head. She’s always such a hoot.
Before I go inside I grab the mail and tuck it under my arm. As soon as I open the door I go straight for the alarm and enter my code, then lock the door and set the alarm again. The house is warm and feels cozy on such a cold night, and not for the first time I’m thankful that I’ve got this place.
I set the mail on the kitchen counter and go hang up my coat. After that I set the soup on the counter and grab a bowl from the cupboard. I spoon some out and pop it in the microwave as my stomach growls. While I’m waiting I sort through the mail, which is mostly junk and addressed to the construction company.
The last thing on the bottom is a small letter that the ink has been smudged on. When I look to see where it’s from I notice the stamp in the corner has the name of the prison Rocco was sent to.
I gasp and nearly drop the letter in my speed to get it open. The microwave dings, but I ignore it as I take a seat at the bar and spread out the piece of paper.
The whole thing looks like it’s been smudged, but I wonder if that’s just his way of writing. When I see my name at the top I want to let my excitement bubble up, but I’m afraid to have too much hope.