Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“Oh, yeah? With your trusty garden fork for protection?”
I realize then that I don’t have the fork with me. It’s still on the floor where I dropped it when I stubbed my toe. But I really don’t want to go back in his house to get it. So, it can stay there.
“You’re a real jerk sometimes,” I tell him.
“I know. And yet, I’m still walking you home.”
I sigh. “Suit yourself.”
I stomp through his garden. It isn’t easy, walking in shoes that are about five sizes too big for me.
“What size shoe do you wear?” I ask him.
“Thirteen.” His voice comes behind me in the darkness.
Correction: seven sizes too big.
“I wear a size six.”
“Thanks for that riveting piece of information. I’ll sleep better tonight, knowing that.” His tone is droll.
I want to point out that the reason I was in his house in the first place was because he wasn’t sleeping well.
I push my way through the gap in the fence. Takes me longer than usual because his big, stupid shoes get in the way.
As I’m shoving my way through, the fence starts to shake.
When I make it back into my garden, I look up to see River climbing over the fence.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
He stops midway and looks at me like I’m as dumb as bricks. “Climbing. The. Fence,” he slowly says the words, like reciting them to a moron.
“I got that. I meant, why?”
He jumps down from the fence, landing easily on his feet. Way too graceful for a man of his size. As he stands before me, his dark eyes glitter down at me in the darkness.
“Because there was no way I’d fit through the gap.”
“Oh.”
“And, since someone doesn’t like front doors or gates, it was my only option.”
Hilarious.
I roll my eyes and then march across my grass, heading for the steps leading up to my back deck.
I stop at the bottom.
I slip my feet out of his sneakers, pick them up, and hold them out to him. He takes them from me.
“All the way to the back door,” he tells me and then gestures for me to walk up the steps.
I sigh but don’t bother arguing.
I reach my back door and open it. Light floods out onto the deck along with Buddy, who comes barreling out of the door, sniffing around my legs, making shuffling noises, like he’s telling me he was worried.
“I’m okay, Bud.” I reach down and stroke him.
He gazes up at me. Then, he seems to register River’s presence, and his eyes dart to him. He eyes River for a good few seconds, like he’s coming to some decision about him. Then, seeming to make his decision, he wags his tail and wanders over to sniff around his feet.
River ignores him.
That irritates me.
“You still have the mutt then.”
That irritates me even more.
“Of course I still have Buddy.” I highlight his name even though I know it’s pointless. He’ll call him whatever he wants.
Realizing he isn’t getting anything from River, Buddy trots on back inside our house.
“Well … good night,” I say.
“Why did you come to my house?”
I sigh again. I seem to do it a lot around this guy. “I already told you.”
“I know what you said. What I meant was, why didn’t you just call someone?”
“Like who?”
He shoves his hand through his thick hair. “The cops.” His words are quieter. “If someone thought there was an intruder in a house, that something bad was happening … a person would normally call the cops. Not go in at their own risk. With a fucking gardening fork as their only weapon.”
I can’t tell him all the reasons I didn’t call the police.
I lift my shoulders on the lie. “I guess … I didn’t think.”
His thick brows draw together. “No other reason?”
“What other reason would there be?”
He steps back out of the light of my doorway and into the dark of the night. “No reason.”
He pushes his hands into his jeans pockets and walks toward the steps.
“Carrie.” He stops me as I’m closing the door.
That’s the first time he’s ever said my name.
And it feels momentous for a reason I can’t put my finger on.
I don’t answer, as my voice seems to have been stolen, but I know he knows I’m listening.
“Thanks … for coming.”
When no one else would.
He doesn’t say those words out loud, but I somehow know that’s what he means.
“You’re welcome,” I say to the darkness as he disappears into it.
Carrie
I don’t expect to see River today. I can usually go days or weeks without seeing my neighbor. And, especially after last night’s events, I figure it might be months before I see him next.
I still can’t believe I broke into his house, thinking he was being attacked or something, and acted like a complete tool and embarrassed the heck out of myself and cut my toe open on his table, all with that garden fricking fork in my hand. Total doofus.