Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 80391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Not having any food had made us venture out earlier than we’d intended to the local diner for breakfast. After stopping by the church to settle on a time for Shannon’s funeral, we’d stopped at a store on the way home. We had to take his truck seeing as he had nothing in his house. And by nothing, I mean absolutely nothing.
Pots, pans, dishes, food, silverware, bathroom supplies, cleaners, towels. The list went on and on. The total that Kettle had to pay at the end of the excursion was close to a grand, and made me cringe when I thought about it.
Luckily, it was a nice day to carry bag after bag of groceries and supplies into the house. It was nearly seventy degrees out, and the perfect day in my opinion.
We’d just gotten the last bag out of the truck and in to the house when the doorbell rang, causing me to turn and regard it with trepidation.
Kettle didn’t show the least bit of reluctance, though. Instead, he dropped his bag with the others, and walked to the door sedately before opening it for his mother.
I made it to the door to lean into his back just in time to see the tears start to shimmer in her blue eyes. The same color as her son’s.
Kettle’s mother was beautiful. Her hair was brown, and hung in a trendy bob just underneath her chin. Pale silver strands were interspersed throughout her locks. She was wearing jeans and a fitted shirt, showing off her curvy, slim body, despite her age. I could only hope to look that good after two kids and thirty years on me.
“Oh, Tiago. I’ve missed you so.” She wept.
Kettle’s back tensed slightly before tapping my thigh and moving forward, taking his mother into a hug for the first time in sixteen years.
Her weeping turned to sobs as her son enfolded her into his big arms, and I backed away, letting them have the moment that they so desperately deserved.
Needing something to do, I grabbed my cell phone off the table and walked outside. I went out onto Kettle’s deck that had seen better days, and walked down to the dock. The chair that I’d stolen from Sebastian was gone, and I sighed as I dropped down to my haunches before taking a seat on the deck, letting my feet dangle over the sides.
Luckily, the deck was far enough off the water; otherwise, my feet would be dipped into the freezing lake below.
My eyes trailed over the water, watching the beauty of it sway and roll gently in the wind before turning to my phone and punching in my sister’s number.
“Hello?” She answered.
“Hey, Vid. Merry Christmas.” I replied snidely.
I could hear the TV in the background as Viddy listened to the morning news, as she always did.
“Hey, sister. How was your Christmas?” She asked distractedly.
My jaw clenched, and my anger started to rise.
I’d called my sister the night of the fire, knowing I needed to talk to someone; she’d always been my first choice. But she hadn’t answered, and I’d needed her desperately.
I’d called four more times in the past two days, and this was the first time she’d answered in all those times. She’d replied with a text message each of those times. ‘Busy, I’ll call you when I can.’
“What’s going on with you? Why didn’t you call me back?” I asked in exasperation.
“What?” She asked sharply. “What are you talking about?”
My eyes narrowed at a point across the lake where a deer had walked out through the trees and started drinking from water’s edge.
“I’ve called you a bazillion times in the past couple of days. You never called me back and always replied with the same message. I needed to talk to you.” I sniffled.
“Adeline, I never got any of your calls. I didn’t even have my phone. It died as soon as I got to Paul’s parents’ house, and I gave it to him to charge in his car. Every time I’d ask for it, he said to leave it. Said that it was rude to talk on my phone when I was visiting with someone. So I left it there.” She replied, sounding very confused.
I refrained from telling her that her boyfriend was a massive dick, and most likely had her phone the whole time. He’d had to have been screening her calls. Why else would he have replied with anything? I’d let her draw her own conclusions, though.
“You didn’t even call me for Christmas. What the hell was that?” I asked, as my anger evaporated. Knowing my sister would never do anything to hurt me willingly.
“I did call you. I called Kettle’s house phone. I didn’t know your cell phone number off the top of my head, and that was the only one I remembered since it was so easy. I would’ve left a message but the answering machine never picked up.” She explained, worry starting to rise in her voice.
That’s when I clarified what had happened in the last couple of days. What she’d missed with the fire. And then further with what happened at the funeral home, and what our brother had done.
“Your apartment burned down...again?” She gasped. “What the fuck? Do they know who did it?”
I was shaking my head, even though she couldn’t see it. “No. They had a video of it. That’s it though.”
“What about Monty?” She asked hesitantly.
My throat closed again, agitated with all the life that was lost in the fire.
From what I’d learned from Kettle and the news, over ten pets, Monty included, had been lost in that fire, along with Shannon. Luckily there were no other human losses, but the one was enough.
“He didn’t make it. By the time everyone arrived, the whole place was fully engulfed in flames. That’s why Shannon wasn’t able to be saved, either. It just burned too hot. The person that set the fire used what they think was jet fuel. It caught fire and burned so hot that nothing was left.”