Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“It was spread by fleas on rats,” I correct as I back toward the cabin.
“Great, now I can worry about fleas,” she mutters, brushing harder at her shirt.
“Don’t stress,” I say. “You can have the first bath and get out of your flea clothes. You have a whole drawer full of things in the bedroom. Why don’t you go pick something out to wear, and I’ll start the fire after I get Tater Tot his treat.”
Tater Tot gambols along beside me, making happy grunting sounds.
“Okay,” Binx says. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. You can even circle around and head in the front door, if you want. The better to avoid another interaction with the feral fur potato.”
Her lips quirk. “Sounds good.”
Twenty minutes later, I’ve given Tater Tot his treat and sent him on his way back into the darkening forest. I also have five large pots of water about to bubble on the woodstove in the living room. I accompany Binx outside to fill the tub about a third of the way with cold water from the hose, and light the tiki torches I fished out of storage in the shed.
Then, we pull deck chairs to the edge of the flickering torchlight. I dump the first pots of boiling water into the tub and put another round on the stove before settling into the chair beside her to watch the stars come out.
“I feel bad about stealing your bath,” she says as I hand her a glass of wine.
“You didn’t steal it. I’ll just take second shift.”
“But it will take forever to warm up more water,” she says. “The tub is enormous. There’s plenty of room for both of us. We could wear our swimsuits and just…wash around them discreetly. It would be a totally kosher, time-and-effort saving thing for two friends to do.”
I chew the inside of my cheek for a beat. I know better, but I’m bone weary and not looking forward to repeating this boiling water dance a second time or bathing in cold, leftover water.
“I’d stay on my side,” she adds, lifting her right hand into the air. “I promise. I won’t let so much as a pinkie toe slip over into your half of the water.”
“I’m not worried about your pinkie toe,” I say, hating that things are so awkward between us. That kiss ruined everything. I’d like to say that, if given the chance, I would turn back time and keep my lips to myself. But the truth is I’ll be playing that kiss on repeat in my head for a long time.
A long, long time…
“Well, I’m worried about yours,” she says, taking a delicate sip of her wine. “Your feet are disgusting.”
I huff out a soft laugh. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I mean, I know you can’t help it—giant, manly men have giant, hairy man feet—but if you were a woman, you’d never get away with having something that gross on your body. Society would have made you wax them and bleach them and get big toe reduction surgery or something.”
I smile. “You’re probably right. Did I tell you Sprout asked me about shaving her legs last week?”
“What?” Binx frowns. “She’s only eight.”
“I know, but she inherited my hairy legs and the girls in gym class were making fun of her for it, calling her Sasquatch and shit. I told her she’s too young to shave, but I caught her trying to smuggle my razor into her bathroom the next day. If I don’t teach her how to use it, I’m afraid she’s going to massacre herself.” I sigh. “I really don’t like being cut off from her. What if something happens and she needs to get in touch?”
Binx hums sympathetically. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t like it, either, but she’ll be fine. She has Bettie and your brothers to look after her if anything happens. And I can show her how to shave when we get back, if you want. There’s definitely a trick to getting around all the bony parts without leaving a trail of destruction behind.”
“Yeah, that would be nice, thanks,” I say, even as the voice of reason insists that I should start distancing myself from Binx. She’s too tempting for this “just friends” farce we’ve been playing at to hold much longer.
And I’m too lonely.
I didn’t realize how lonely I was until she came into our lives and sending her home at the end of the night started to feel like the worst part of my day. It reminded me of the moment when visiting hours were over at the prison on Sundays, and the people I loved went away for another week, leaving me alone with the consequences of my piss poor decisions.
But I’m too tired to start the pulling away process right now, and I’m sure Sprout would much rather learn to shave from Binx than her grandmother. Mom is a stress case when it comes to her granddaughter’s well-being and will appreciate being spared the task of crouching by a bathtub while Sprout tests out a razor for the first time.