Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says. “Because why would you be jealous of Goldie. She’s just a little kid who is innocent in all of this.”
I nod, unable to find my voice.
Wade stands there, waiting for me to say something. When I don’t respond, he shakes his head and leaves, closing the door behind him. Like I used to do when we dated, I run to the window and watch him. He descends the stairs and jumps into his truck. I expect him to peel out of the parking lot. Burning rubber, as he used to say. He doesn’t.
He sits in the cab for what feels like forever.
eleven
wade
Despite a heavy day ahead, I’m back at the elementary school. It’s the last place I want to be but Jean called this morning to tell me the sprinkler system outside—one that I installed two years ago—isn’t working.
After walking out to see where it’s failed, I head back to my truck to change my steel-toed work boots for my rubber ones. Thankfully, I didn’t cave when Goldie said I needed yellow ones with ducks on the toes to match hers. Mine are a little more presentable for an adult.
Not that I want to be one with the size of the puddle forming on the field. The inner child in me wants to run, jump, and slide until I’m all muddy. The thought brings a smile to my face, and I feel sorry for the kids who won’t be able to experience how much fun it is to puddle jump.
I lay the sprinkler plans out on the tailgate of my truck and take a picture of each page. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to determine where the pipe has busted. Nothing says fun like digging up yards of earth because you’re unsure of things.
Feeling confident, I head back toward the newly formed swamp, minus the bugs, with as much gear as I can carry. It sucks being short-handed, but I had to send my skeleton crew to a few other places who all have contracted service.
“You really need to start hiring more people,” I say to myself as I clomp through the soggy earth. “You can’t do it all.” I’ve tried for years, but I’m at the point where I need more help. Especially now that Goldie is living with me. She takes priority and I’d really like to be off work by five every night so we can have dinner together.
At the valve, I twist the dial until the water stops running. I need to find the break quickly because if I’m not mistaken, when the water company came out and installed the water line for the sprinkler system, they tied it into the main line. No water inside means no school today. Although, I’m sure the kids would love to stay home.
I take my phone out of my pocket and scroll through the images, doing my best to line them up from the water main. I walk along the supposed path, praying I’m over the line. When I think I’m close to the issue, I stuff my phone in my pocket and slam my shovel into the earth.
Clearly, I’m not thinking with the right frame of mind. I curse as the hole fills with water and mud.
“Fuck.” I can’t believe I didn’t think this through. All I should’ve done was tell Jean to cancel school for the day and pray for a freaking heat wave because we need the ground to be solidor at least not a swimming poolin order for me to fix the line break.
I stand there in dirty, calf-deep water, shaking my head. Lemon is going to find a way to blame me for this. I just know it. I figure the only thing I can do is break the piping at the water main. It won’t be an easy fix, but it’s the only solution right now.
After trudging out of the water and back to my truck, I gather the necessary and probably somewhat unnecessary tools I need to do some damage. The thought thrills me, only because I know Lemon is going to be beside herself. I love a fiery Lemon because that’s when she shows passion and gets all flustered. Her cheeks turn red, and she stumbles over her words. At least she does with me.
Anger is the only way she’ll communicate with me these days. It’s better than nothing. After years of avoiding me, I’ll take what I can get.
I make sure the water is off, just in case. The last thing I want is to pull this pipe apart and get blasted. I have a long day ahead of me, and while it’s easy enough to go home and change, the effort to do so seems daunting.
Starting with the wrench, I twist, pull, wiggle, and do whatever else I can to loosen the casing over the valve. I’m starting to think they put some superglue on the threads before the water company tightened it up because it is not budging.