Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Llew shook his head, hopefully relaying that it was okay. He squatted and picked up his papers, tucking them in the side pocket of his duffle and hefted the woman’s bag back up in his free arm. “I’ll help you, if you want,” he said quietly, not wanting his deep, growly voice to scare her.
“That’d be right nice of you. As usual, I picked up more than I meant to at the market.” She pointed behind him. “I’m up the way there, off David Ave. I’m the Victorian on the right.” With a simple nod at her, he gently extracted another bag from her arm and carried both on his strong forearm. He began walking in the direction she’d indicated.
After she’d secured the little boy with her one free hand, she turned to look at his bags. “Are you new here? Just arrived? Must be, I’ve never seen you.”
Head nod.
“Are you here to visit someone, you got family in Henderson?”
Llew cleared his throat. “No ma’am I’ve just relocated here. I’m from Em—” Llew stopped abruptly, switching his answer. “E-east of here; in Virginia.”
“Oh okay. So what brings you here to our little neck of the woods?”
Again, he was smiling on the inside. To some it might have appeared like she was nosy, but growing up in a small town, he knew that’s what people did. It was called good ole’ Southern personality. Gotta love it.
He shrugged and said honestly, “Looking for work.” Saying he was looking for a fresh start, would’ve only prompted more questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer.
After passing a few nice homes, she turned; unlocked a short metal gate, and led him up five wooden steps that creaked angrily under his weight. Hearing them, she explained, “Yeah, those rickety things need to be replaced. I’ve been saying I’ma’ get to it. My son is so busy all the time with work and his own home, I can’t seem to get him over to do anything.”
She opened her door, still rambling, and held it open for Llew to squeeze through; letting him right inside her empty home. And again he smiled inside. She wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of him. Most country people trusted you until you gave them a reason not to.
The home was a nice size, with plenty of antique furniture, some restored and some not. He ducked under the low doorframe into the kitchen. She pointed to the table that sat off to the side, just in front of a bay window. After telling “Jimmy Jr.” to go play in the sunroom, she turned back to look at him. “Wow. You don’t look as tall when you’re outside. In here you look like a Jack the Giant.”
Llew quirked his mouth to the side. That was actually pretty cute. Sounded like something his mom would’ve said. “Have a seat there. Take a load off, honey. Least I can do is give you a glass of iced tea for your help.”
“That’s okay ma’am. I best get going. Got some ground to cover and find a place to stay before evening,” Llew said, adjusting his duffle bag on his shoulder. He admitted to himself that he didn’t want to go. The three and half hour bus ride had his back cramping. More than that, he was starved. The warm kitchen he stood in smelled like fresh baked pecan pie.
“Oh. Do you have a place in mind?”
“Um. No ma’am not yet, but—”
“Call me Ms. Pat, if you wish. But stop ma’am-ing me. I’m not that old.” She cut in, swatting him on his arm before pulling more of her groceries out of the bag. “I’m only fifty-two. Save that ma’am for my momma when you see her.” She admonished him, placing a couple boxes of cereal in the large pantry off of the kitchen.
“What’s your name?”
“Llew,” he said, deliberately not giving his full name.
She nodded her head, seeming okay with that response. When she took the canned goods from another bag and went to open another cabinet, it came apart at the top hinge, falling off to the side. “Oh, gosh darnit. This place is falling apart on top of my head.”
Llew dropped his bags and rushed over to relieve her of her canned goods. She banged the side of the cabinet with her petite palm, trying to get the pieces of the broken hinge to connect. He stepped to her side and used his large palm to push the pieces back together. It was missing a screw at the top, that’s why it kept coming apart.
“You got a toolbox, Ms. Pat?”
“Sure, hon. In the garage, through that door.”
Llew tried to keep his usually heavy steps light in her quiet home while he moved across her large kitchen. He easily found the rusty, once bright red toolbox and shuffled through it. He found a nail that was probably not the exact size he needed, but it’d be a temporary fix. He came back in and easily tapped the nail into the hinge. He tested it, pulling it open and closed, before turning back to her. “It’ll hold,” he said.