Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
The two-hour commute has turned into almost three hours and counting since the first bus broke down, and then it took over thirty minutes to fix. “We should be home soon,” I say, trying to keep the defeat from my voice.
When we are finally walking up the stairs, I’m ready to collapse on the couch. Opening the door, the heat hits you right away. The thickness of the humidity makes it hard for you to even breathe. “Why don’t you get in the shower, and I’ll start making dinner.”
“Okay, Mom,” he says, dumping his new hockey bag by the door and walking into the bathroom. I walk over to the window in the corner and open it up, not sure if it is going to help. When I finally pull the thick wooden window up, a slight breeze comes in. Tying my hair up, I walk to the bedroom and strip out of my jeans, the thick envelope I got at the end of the day heavy in my back pocket. Taking it out, I open it and sit on the bed. Being summoned to the boss’s office fifteen minutes before the end of your shift never has a good outcome. Walking in and looking at him not making eye contact with you was a second alert. Starting the sentence with I’m so sorry was what cemented what I knew was coming. Hours have to be cut and the last one in usually takes the brunt of it. Even though I’d been there for over six months, I was the last one in.
A tear escapes my eye, making it hard to stop the other tear that comes after. Putting my hands over my face, I let the disappointment run through me. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Usually when something is running smoothly is when it turns to shit shortly after. I was finally able to see a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel but then with me getting fired and getting a two-week severance, the light is now covered in black. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I called Karla right away and asked her if she had more cleaning shifts at the motel, and even though I was almost begging, all she had was my regular weekend shifts. Tonight after Dylan goes to bed, I’ll take out all my papers and see how I will stretch this last check.
The water turns off, and I tuck the letter and the jeans in the drawer and go over to the stove and start frying eggs. We have three eggs left, so I make two for Dylan and slip the last two slices of bread in the toaster. I would also have to go down to the church and see if I can get anything from their emergency fund. I open the fridge and go to grab a slice of cheese and realize I don’t have any left. Instead, I grab the small container of ham that I bought last week and take out a couple of pieces and fry it in the pan with the eggs. The bread pops up, and I grab the little bit of margarine I have left just as the bathroom door opens. “I’m done,” he says, coming out, and this time, all he’s wearing is his boxer briefs, knowing it’s too hot for anything else.
“Just in time,” I say over my shoulder, grabbing a plate and putting his eggs on them and the ham, cutting the bread in half. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he says, and I wait for him to eat before cracking open of the last eggs for myself. He looks up at me. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“I had a big lunch,” I say, thinking of the lunch bag Justin left in the car. It was actually a chicken club sandwich with a bag of chips and even a drink. “Do you want more?” I ask him, and he just shakes his head. I turn back around and think about breakfast in the morning. Knowing I don’t have much left, I put the last egg in the fridge for him tomorrow.
“Can I watch some videos on your phone?” he asks, and I nod my head, thankful we can get free Wi-Fi.
“But not for too long. You have a big day tomorrow,” I say, and he nods his head and goes into the bedroom. I clean the little kitchen, my mind going around and around, thinking of everything. I’m not even working on plan B; I’m working on plan C, and then I’m working on worst-case scenarios. The thought of the two of us having to move again is making me sick. There is no way I can find another apartment as cheap as this for what we get. I know it isn’t much, but at least it’s clean. The other places we found were roach-infested or in an even seedier part of town.