Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Oh my God, be careful,” he heard Beth call from down below, and peered over the edge to see her standing next to the ladder, her hand up over her eyes to shield her from the glare of the sun.
“I’m fine,” he shouted. “I spent the better part of my teen years up on roofs.”
“Still…be careful! Do you want something to drink?”
“Cranberry juice?”
“I’ll add that vodka you asked for last time.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Okay.” She disappeared into the house and he continued his inspection of her roof. He descended fifteen minutes later to find his tall, cold vodka and cranberry waiting for him on the round stone mosaic table. Still not a great drink, but better than plain, old cranberry juice. Beth’s half-full glass was standing next to his and he wondered if she had added a dash of vodka to her drink as well.
She’d returned to raking and Gideon sat down to watch her while he sipped his drink. After a while, his gaze scanned the shaded patio and landed on the tall bird perch standing beside the double glass French doors that led back inside. He contemplated the perch, taking another swallow from his drink and trying not to grimace at the sweetness. He knew she still missed the bird and wished he knew of a way to alleviate some of that sadness for her.
“Do you like the drink?” Her voice came from right beside him and he started slightly. He hadn’t seen her approach. She was clutching a large black plastic bin liner in her good hand.
“All done?” he asked, and she nodded. “Your wrist, okay?”
“It’s fine, dad.” She wriggled her fingers and rolled her wrist to prove that to him. She walked to the large wheelie bin stowed away next to the garden shed and shoved the black bag into it.
“So what’s the verdict on my house?” she asked, sitting down in the same chair she’d occupied earlier. She reached for her glass and drained the rest of the liquid—probably no vodka then—in one long, thirsty gulp, before plonking the glass back down and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Everything seems to be mostly in order. The gutters definitely need replacing, but we knew that already. I’m concerned that your pergola is on its last legs and will collapse under the weight off all those flowers.”
“It’s so pretty though,” she said. Her eyes drifted toward the pergola and she smiled happily at the sight of it.
“Aye, I’m sure it’ll look pretty as fuck when it collapses on top of you as well.”
“You’re a lot more dramatic than I ever realized,” she said with a chuckle.
“And yet…totally serious.”
“What else?”
“That pond is a trip hazard. I’ll fix it for you.”
“That’s not necessary, thank you. I’ll have it filled in and paved over or something.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“It’s hard work maintaining a pond.”
“Aye, but do you like it?”
“I enjoyed it when I was a child. My Granny June kept it stocked with common goldfish, red minnows, and these three elusive plecos—Fred, Maurice, and Arthur—they grew quite massive.” Her voice took on a nostalgic note and a sweet smile lifted her lips as she stared at the pond. Her eyes were distant while she recalled these happy memories. “I’d race home from school every day to feed the fish, no matter what the weather. Granny June used to scold me whenever I forgot to change out of my uniform before heading out to the yard. Through high school, and even college, it was my job to keep the fish fed and the pond clean.”
Her smile took on a bittersweet edge and she shook her head sadly as she recalled, “During the last six months of her life, when Granny June grew too weak and needed my full attention, I didn’t have the time to maintain the pond. I had very little interest in anything really. Just kept myself and Spock fed, while trying to coax her into eating. It was a losing battle. She got so weak and thin.” She shook herself as if trying to rid herself of the recollection and her smile went bright and brittle. “Uhm, anyway—I rehomed the remaining stock. And once it was completely empty, and most of the water evaporated, it just became a gross, shallow hole in the yard, with a few inches of water stagnating at the bottom. I noticed, in the last year or so, that the cobblestones were loosening as well. It’s just an eyesore and—like you said—a trip hazard now. I think it’s better to just get rid of it entirely.”
Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she stared at the pond and Gideon didn’t think she realized how sad she looked at the prospect of destroying the pond completely. He didn’t like it. It was yet another important part of her happy childhood with her grandmother that would disappear from her life forever.