Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
But something about this felt right. And arriving at the change of season meant all the furnished apartments, houses, and even motels would be desperate for occupation, slashing rates.
I guess I maybe should have given more consideration to the fact that a somewhat abandoned town meant less chance for me to find off-the-books work.
But even tourist towns had people who lived there full-time. There were bound to be people who needed their dogs walked, who wanted to learn to play guitar.
It would be fine.
It was always fine.
I would get by.
I'd gotten incredibly good at it.
On top of my priority list should have been trying to find a place to stay, but I couldn't stop myself from parking in the lot, climbing out, and making my way toward the beach.
I guess it was a habit. If not of everyone's, then of mine.
To get stuck in a mood then pile on, compound it, do and say and listen to things that reinforce that sensation, that made it impossible to think of anything else.
So I walked down the lonely beach, the waves as tumultuous as the feelings crashing within me.
I sat down on the sand, staring off at the sea, wallowing in my emptiness, in the potentials I had to leave behind, the seemingly hollow future that was before me.
No roots, no connection, no relationship, no kids. No nothing.
"Honey, you okay?" a gruff, older, masculine voice asked, making me jerk out of my swirling thoughts, and making me acutely aware that the tears had never really stopped, that they may never, that the well inside was much deeper than I ever could have known.
"I, ah, yeah," I assured him, swiping at my cheeks, forcing a smile I didn't feel.
"Sometimes you just gotta let it out," he agreed, eyes knowing. "It's getting late, though," he added, fatherly concern in his voice before turning and walking away, leaving me to scrub my face, sniffle pathetically, then get myself up off the sand, making my way back toward the town, ready to start over.
God, I was so sick of starting over.
--
It took three days of staying at the cheapest motel in the area, it reeking heavily of mildew, mold in the grout in the bathroom, sheets that had likely never been cleaned, yet somehow still taking a giant chunk out of my meager savings before I finally found a place that would work.
For now.
If I made it through the off-season, I would need to figure out something else come the on-season. Which was, again, a problem for another time. Who knew if I would even make it that long without him finding me.
But I had lucked upon a really sweet older couple, while I was hanging up flyers in the local eateries and coffee shops, that was in town to try to get their income property ready to be shut down for the winter. They were planning on heading down to Florida to avoid the cold and snowy Jersey winters for the first time, and were nervous about leaving the house empty when they would be so far away.
By the time we stopped talking, it almost felt like they thought I was doing them a favor by staying at the place instead of the other way around. All they wanted from me was to pay the electric and water bills when they came in, keep the place clean, and shovel the driveway.
"You'll be saving us money!" Clark, the husband, told me, grinning at the prospect of not having to pay someone to do the sidewalks and driveway.
"And giving us a lot of peace of mind," Louise added, giving me a maternal smile.
They had then taken one of my spare flyers, flipping it over, filling out the back with a list of phone numbers to reach them at and little house quirks to keep in mind in case I ran into any issues. They'd even left me their loyalty cards for the local food stores since they didn't have those chains in Florida, and asked me to clean out the pantry since they were worried about it going bad.
They were giving me a house, free of charge, and a whole pantry that ended up being loaded down with my usual essentials - rice, beans, pastas - along with a ton of canned goods, including soups that - when paired with a roll could be a whole meal.
They'd given me a tour, handed me the keys, then hugged me before leaving.
I'd never been quite so grateful in all my life.
I still didn't have much money to live on, but I figured that if I kept my showers short, and ate only what was in the pantry, it would buy me enough time to start getting some jobs in the area off the books.
It was always off the books.
Because, I learned early on, as soon as I had a trail - even one as simple as a job and a bank account - Thomas was able to track me down much more quickly.