Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
I was being sarcastic, but with an edge of truth mixed in.
But it wasn’t the older brother card that won the car argument for me. It was my other brother card, because, you know, Owen wasn’t around because he was dead.
Yeah…
I hadn’t wanted to play either card, because I wasn’t that girl. But Maisie meant that much to me, and after my voice cracked, my parents gave in. They almost couldn’t give in fast enough.
Maisie was in our driveway the next morning, and she’d been mine ever since.
In a way, Maisie was my best friend. She was the one I hung out with the most.
I had lunch with her. I had dates with her. I depended on her for things, like holding my bags and carrying my things from point A to point B. And she always showed up. She was always happy, the purr of her engine told me so. It was her hello to me, and I rewarded her every time with a smile, a hello back, and a pat. Sometimes I tickled the dashboard.
I knew she enjoyed it.
The radio always did a little skip after the tickling. That was her little wink back at me. So yeah, Maisie and me. We were the best of friends.
When I returned to where I’d left her, of course she was waiting. I stowed my camping equipment in her trunk and tossed my backpack in front. I slid behind the wheel and checked my phone.
Zero text messages.
Zero phone calls.
Zero voicemails.
Alrighty then.
I started Maisie, and we were on the road a second later.
Zeke Allen’s cabin was an hour away from Fallen Crest. The drive back was relaxing. I enjoyed the scenery along the shoreline.
I got a peek of it as the road wound in and out.
When I got back to Fallen Crest, my stomach was cramping. I’d forgotten to eat today, and I wasn’t altogether sure I’d eaten the granola bars I’d packed for yesterday either. Either way, I knew there’d be food for me at home. Though my parents employed a chef, I had a craving for a nice juicy, greasy cheeseburger, so I made a stop. One burger. One fry. One soda, and soon I was heading for the newest section of Fallen Crest.
I slowed, pulling up to the gate.
The attendant rolled his window down.
“Heya, Mr. Carl.”
That’s how he’d introduced himself to me, and though I didn’t know if Carl was his first or last name, it’s what I called him.
Mr. Carl was middle-aged. I never knew for certain how old he was, but in my mind he was fifty-three. Gray hair. Wrinkles all over his face. And a smile. He was always smiling. He had a little paunch, but he said it was because the “missus” enjoyed feeding him too many dumplings. Was it sad that I hadn’t known what dumplings were? I’d had to google them, and then I asked our chef, Benny, to make them. He looked as if I’d committed a terrible crime, but he made me dumplings that night.
And chili. I liked his chili the most.
I now asked for it once a week. He made it with turkey meat, said it was healthier that way.
I didn’t care. I enjoyed it.
Mr. Carl was smiling at me like he always did, but then he frowned a little. “You okay, Miss Aspen?”
“I’m good.”
“Your parents aren’t home. They’re in the studio editing that new piece they’re working on.”
I nodded, not feeling a thing. “Thanks for letting me know.”
He dipped his head, gave a wave, and the gate opened.
I drove through. These days we lived in the newly gated section of Fallen Crest. We were all the way at the end, set on a peninsula. There were woods and a river winding around the lot. We were the hardest to get to, and we had the most privacy.
Driving up, I pulled Maisie to the far garage door.
We had a five stall, and I used the last one.
Walking through the empty garage, I felt a mix of emotions.
I knew Sandy, our cleaning lady, was likely here. She was Monday through Friday, but I knew she popped in on weekends too. She took care of the entire house, and it was a large one, so there were always places to clean. She and Benny managed just about everything. There was an outside maintenance guy. He mostly tinkered with the lawn and landscaping. We really didn’t need him that much. The back lawn didn’t take too much work.
I think he mostly came because he liked to flirt with Benny.
It wasn’t a lawn day today, so that meant it was just Sandy and Benny inside, and true to form, I found them having coffee when I walked in.
“Miss Aspen!” Sandy jumped up, but I waved her off.
“I’m good, Miss Sandy.”
She wavered, frowning. “We thought you were on a camping trip this weekend.”