Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 60864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I guided her up the steps to the door and unlocked it. Ushering her in, I shut the door behind her and began to make my way across to the office, just down the hall on the right. She followed behind me a step or two back. The office had a clear door but blinds that twisted shut. I opened the door and gestured broadly to the inside.
“This is the office,” I said. “As you can see, I don’t do much in here.”
She stepped inside, her eyes roaming the space. It was mostly empty. There was a desk with a laptop on it that I couldn’t remember the last time I opened it. A lamp I picked up at an antique shop sat beside it, and then a couple of books sat off to the side. They were accompanied by two large bookshelves on either side, chock-full of books other than cookbooks. My cookbooks lived in the kitchen. Against the far wall was a twin bed that I kept in case one of my brothers needed a place to crash after a few too many beers.
“So,” I said, “my bedroom has a door to the office over here, but it locks from this side, so you can lock it up. There is a door over in that corner that leads to the master bathroom. You are welcome to use it if I’m not here, but there is another bathroom down the hall that is the main one, and you can have exclusive use of that while you’re here if you want.”
“Thank you, that’s very nice,” she said, still looking around, holding the bags tight.
“There are extra sheets in the linen closet in the bathroom. That cabinet there”—I pointed to a large cabinet on the wall under the bookshelves— “has comforters and pillows in it. I keep it kind of chilly in the house, so you might need them.”
“I don’t mind chilly. I’d rather be cold and curled up than hot and unable to get cool.”
“Same,” I said. “Now, I have to warn you, the bed is generally where Gandalf sleeps while I am working. So, you will want to keep this door shut.”
“Gandalf?”
“My Great Dane,” I said. “My buddy. He has a door to the backyard in my bedroom that he can go in and out at will, but when I’m gone, he often sleeps here. He will be fine though.”
As if on cue, Gandalf lumbered out of the bedroom door and made his way to the office door, which was still standing open. Jodi’s eyes went wide when she saw the towering figure walking toward her, and I laughed.
“This is Gandalf?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, petting his head. “He’s getting old. They usually live eight to ten years, and he’s nine and a half. But he still acts like a puppy once in a while. Usually early in the morning when it’s breakfast time.”
“He’s very sweet.” She reached out her hand and gingerly patted his head.
“He is. Very old for his breed and slow. He won’t bother you at all. Most of the time he lives in my room or the yard sleeping.”
“I love his little goatee,” she said, scratching under his chin.
I grinned, watching for a moment while she pet Gandalf and his grey-and-white tail began to wag.
“Set your stuff down. I’ll show you around the rest of the place,” I said.
She nodded, putting her bags on the bed and turning to me, a painted-on smile on her lips. I could tell she was nervous. It was like a first day at work kind of thing, only she was discovering where she would sleep rather than the desk she would work at. I couldn’t tell if she was happy or disappointed with her makeshift lodgings.
“If we go down this hall,” I said, leading her out of the office, “it leads to the living room. I usually pop the TV on while I cook since the floor plan opens to the kitchen over there, but if you want to watch something, it really doesn’t matter what’s on while I cook. I do most of my experimenting here.”
“You spend all day cooking at work and then come home and cook?” she asked.
“Not really. I have grilled cheese sandwiches a lot more than you would think.” I laughed. “But sometimes I come in here to experiment, or I get a wild hair about a dish I want to eat. If you want to cook something here, by all means, go for it. I throw too much food out that I buy and never make.”
“Thank you.” She seemed sheepish, like it was overwhelming her, but I thought it was important that she felt comfortable enough to walk around without thinking she was going somewhere she wasn’t allowed.
“No problem. Back there is a home gym. Again, free to use it if you want, it’s mostly weights and a treadmill. Over on that side of the living room is a closet and the laundry room. There’s a basement downstairs through that door in the kitchen, and I turned it into a cellar for vegetables. I’ve got some stuff growing under blacklights and stuff down there. Do you drink?”