Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
“Nobody cares what you got under there but you, Am.” Johnny chuckled even as he picked up a pillow I hadn’t seen on the floor and tossed it. The kid dropped it over his lap, eyes wide.
I smiled at him. “I really don’t care, but I can cover my eyes if it’ll make you feel better.” I took a single step inside and didn’t move closer. “I just wanted to check on you. You okay?”
The boy lowered his game console to rest it on top of the pillow, his features still showed his surprise as he muttered in that quiet, shy voice I figured was just part of him, “Yeah.”
“Was it your appendix?”
“Yeah.” His gaze moved to his uncle before returning to me.
“I’m sorry. I’d hoped it was just really bad gas after all.”
He made a face, but he muttered, “I had it removed yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” I turned to look at the uncle who was still standing there, and he tipped his head to the side, like it didn’t make sense to him either that he was free.
“And they let you out already? Is that safe?”
The kid shrugged.
“Huh. I’d be wrapped up in a blanket, crying if I’d just had surgery and was out.”
His mouth went a little flat. He really was an adorable kid. I’d bet he was going to be a real good-looking man someday.
Well, with a dad that looked the way his did, of course he would.
“Well, I brought you some chicken noodle soup. I figure your uncle or your dad can warm it up for you. Unless you’re vegan. If you’re vegetarian or vegan, I’ll bring you something else.”
“I’m not,” he pretty much whispered, moving his attention over my shoulder briefly.
“Oh, good. I’ve got your phone too, by the way. It’s dead now.” I took a step and set it on the dresser next to me, right beside a mound of loose guitar picks and a few packs of strings. “Well, if you need anything, you know where I am. Just yell really loud. I’ll be home the rest of the day, and tomorrow I’m gone from nine to six.” He was still looking at me with these big, round eyes. “I’ll let you rest. Hope you feel better!”
His “bye” was muttered, but hey, it was better than nothing. According to one of my cousins, one of his sons had gone through a one-month long phase of not answering with anything more than grunts and nods, so I figured this was normal.
Figuring my job was done, I took a step back and almost ran into Johnny.
He smiled down at me when I glanced up and gestured toward the hall. Johnny followed, so close to my elbow, it kept brushing his upper body. “You said you were a neighbor?” he asked suddenly.
“Something like that,” I told him. “I’m staying in the garage apartment.”
The way he asked “What?” made me peek at him.
He looked confused as hell, that notch back between his eyebrows. “It’s a long story that Amos can probably explain better.”
“He won’t. He says about ten words a day if we’re lucky.”
Fair enough. I laughed. “To make a long story short, he put it up for rent behind his dad’s back, and I reserved it. Mr. Rhodes found out and wasn’t happy, but he still let me stay when I offered to pay extra.” That was a lot quicker than I expected. “I’ll be here about another two weeks.”
“What?”
I nodded then grimaced. “He really wasn’t very happy. Now he’s not going to be happy I came over probably, but I was worried about Amos.”
“I was wondering about the car out there.” His laugh came out of nowhere and caught me off guard. “I’m sure he wasn’t happy. At all.”
“He was really, really mad, but I get it,” I confirmed. “I don’t want to piss him off anymore, but tell Mr. Rhodes that I was eight feet away from his son and you were around the whole time. Please.”
Johnny opened the front door with a smile. “Eight feet away and you brought him soup and his phone. No problem.”
I walked through, and he moved to stand in the doorway.
It had gotten a lot darker in the ten minutes I’d been inside, and I pulled my flashlight out of my pocket. God forbid I trip on a rock, break my leg, no one hears me screaming, and I get eaten by meat-eating bears and birds take my eyeballs. That was literally a scenario that my aunt had imagined and texted me about days ago.
“You’re from Florida?” he asked just as I flipped it on and aimed the beam toward the driveway. It was faint. I should look into getting one with more lumens.
“Kind of. I used to live here, but I moved away a long time ago.” I hopped down the steps and waved at him. “Thank you for letting me see him. Nice to see you again.”