Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Her face softens, and I can see that old twinkle return to her eyes. She studies me for a brief second before speaking. “Okay, I understand that more than you know. When I was younger and struggling, I wanted to repay them by doing whatever I could—cleaning, running errands, cooking dinner. I didn’t like the idea of getting free handouts either.”
A hopeful smile touches my lips.
“Alright, you can help, but you still have to keep your negative comments to yourself.”
I chuckle because whether she realizes it or not, she knows me better than anyone. “Deal,” I agree.
“That means you're on bathroom duty with me today.”
“Great. Time for us to rewatch that video and follow the tutorial from Mr. Monotone.”
Katie grabs one bag of tools and asks me to carry the other.
“I’m not sure where we should start,” she admits from the doorway, then moves to the side.
I look around. “Well, first off, is there anything you want to save in here?”
Katie looks around at the Pepto Bismol-colored toilet and bathtub. Her eyes trail along the gaudy tile on the walls and floors. “I don't think there's anything worth salvaging, do you?”
“Hell no,” I say, loving how she asked for my opinion. It’s proof my words actually got through to her.
“I think we should remove the toilet, then work on tearing out the counter, cabinets, and sink. Then the bathtub, wall tiles, and flooring. I think if we go in that order, we’ll be able to have an empty space for you to paint. Then we can rebuild from the bottom up.”
Katie grins. “That sounds like a solid plan.”
“What do you envision in here?”
“I’d like a big shower with glass doors. This bathroom will primarily be for guests, and there’ll be a huge tub upstairs if they want to soak or something.”
“Expecting a lot of visitors?” I ask and internally slap myself for crossing my boundaries.
She snorts. “Not really.”
Quickly, I change the subject. “Most people take showers anyway.”
“Speak for yourself. There's nothing like a tub full of scorching hot water and a bath bomb paired with a glass of wine after a long-ass day.”
I imagine her naked body but quickly push it away. “Can’t argue with that.”
Katie pulls out a few wrenches and sizes them against the bolts holding the toilet to the floor. I turn off the water valve and flush down the remaining. After she finds the correct size, she uses all her strength to loosen it but fails, nearly hitting her knuckles against the porcelain.
“Let me try,” I say in a near whisper, not wanting her to hurt herself. She gladly moves out of my way. I kneel and position the wrench over the rusted bolt.
“Shit,” I grunt.
“I didn’t think it’d be that hard,” she admits.
“Me either. Do you have any WD-40?”
“Hmm, maybe. I’ll go check.” She walks out, and I keep trying to loosen it, but it won’t budge. Moments later, she returns with a can, and I spray each one. I work them the best I can, using both hands until I finally get one off. Thankfully, the others aren’t nearly as hard. Once that’s done, I remove the tank and set it to the side. Then I wiggle the toilet until it’s off the wax ring.
“This thing has been here for so long it’s basically glued to the floor.”
“I think it was installed in the sixties. So yeah, definitely older than either of us. Probably would’ve had to hire someone.”
I give her a smirk, glad that I was able to help, so she didn’t.
I carry the toilet and tank and place them next to the front door. It's heavy, so I’ll bring it outside once it’s dark. The last thing I want is for anyone to know I’m here and to put Katie in a dangerous situation.
Gemma promised to let me know if anything else happens, but so far, everything’s been quiet. It makes me think whoever was trying to attack me has been watching and knows I’m no longer at home.
Katie gets a paint scraper and removes the gunk from the floor, then we clean the area.
“That’s one thing off our list,” Katie says, then looks at the counter. “What will be the easiest way to remove that?”
“I think just by diving in.” I open the cabinet and turn off the water valve. I twist the knob, then gently pull the cabinet door toward me. It nearly crumbles in my hand.
Katie gets a crowbar and pries out the rotten wood. She hands it to me, and I wedge it under the sink and easily pop it out. I grab a small hand saw and cut the piping. With a swing of a hammer, Katie crushes the counter to pieces. We laugh as she puts all her strength into it, and it brings up a memory.