Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Of course, knocking on her front door was different. I felt like an idiot. I was comfortable almost anywhere and I could handle myself in most situations, but I knew I was out of place in that neighborhood. At my ma’s I didn’t worry, most of the neighbors loved my ma and they weren’t surprised to see me hanging around, but standing on Vera’s porch made me feel like I had shit crawling on me. I knew without looking behind me that there were at least three sets of eyes staring from their windows, wondering if I was casing the place.
“Hello,” a mousy brown haired woman said, opening the door only far enough to see her face. “Can I help you?”
“Ma’am,” I said, the word coming out a little rusty. I hadn’t called anyone ma’am in years. “I was hoping I could speak to Vera.”
“Vera?” she replied, her eyes widening in surprise. “Well, I’m not sure…”
“Who is it?” I heard Vera call from inside the house.
My shoulders relaxed a little when I heard her. I’d been imagining all sorts of dramatic shit on the drive north, but she was clearly okay if she was downstairs asking who was at the door like everything was normal. Of course, now that I’d shown up and everything was fine I had to figure out what the hell I was going to say to her. Hell, I deserved a fucking ribbon for the being the biggest jackass in the state. I shifted uncomfortably on my feet.
Then all of a sudden she was there, standing in front of me, and I couldn’t make myself say a goddamn thing.
“Charlie?” she said in confusion. She self-consciously tucked her greasy hair behind her ear. “What are you doing here?”
“You know this man?” her mom asked, staring at Vera like she’d never seen her before.
“His mom lives next to Gran,” Vera replied, still staring at me.
“Are you okay?” I blurted out, embarrassing us both.
She looked like shit. Even though she was blushing it didn’t take away from the paleness of her face or the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was messy in a way that I’d never seen it, even after hours of rolling around in bed with her, and what little curves she’d had were gone. She looked sick. Hell, she looked like she was about to keel over.
“Just a virus,” she said quickly, glancing at her mom.
“Have you been to the doctor?”
“No need,” she said, her eyes widening. She was trying to tell me something with that look, but fuck if I knew what. “It just has to run its course.”
“Right,” I replied, unconvinced.
We stood there for a few moments in awkward silence.
“Vera,” her mom said, wringing her hands. “Your dad is going to be home soon.”
“It was nice of you to stop by,” Vera said uncomfortably. “But since I haven’t been feeling well you should probably go.”
I looked at her mom who was staring over my shoulder at the driveway and then back to Vera. I might not have understood what the weird eye thing meant, but I sure as hell knew why she wanted me to kick rocks. No way in hell did she want her father to come home and find me on their doorstep.
“I’m stayin’ at my ma’s for a couple days,” I told her impulsively. “If you start feeling better.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” she replied dismissively.
She very politely shut the door in my face and I was left wondering who the fuck I’d just talked to. The Vera I’d just seen was nothing like the impulsive giggly girl I’d been hanging out with all summer. It was like she’d been drained of everything that had drawn me to her in the first place.
* * *
Later that night I was the one surprised by a knock on my ma’s door.
“Yeah?” I said, swinging it open.
Standing on the front porch was Vera’s grandma. She was tiny, barely reached my shoulder, and her back was straight as an arrow.
“You’re Charlie,” she said, looking me up and down.
“Uh, yeah.” The way she was staring made me fidget a little.
“I’m Nadine.” She reached out to shake my hand.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied. Her hand was delicate except for the knobby knuckles of her fingers.
“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” she said, meeting my eyes. “But my granddaughter called.” She let go of my hand and pulled her purse higher on her shoulder. “I need to get to my son’s and I’m no longer able to drive.”
It took me a second to comprehend that she was asking me for a ride.
“I can give you a lift,” I replied, nodding. “No problem.”
I yelled to my mom that I was borrowing her car again and led Vera’s grandma out to the car. I wanted to ask what was going on, but the woman looked freaked out and I didn’t want to make it worse. When she started talking, I breathed a sigh of relief that I’d left my pistol in the couch cushions, because I sure as hell didn’t want to get booked for possession when I went to jail.