Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
The woman I love to see smiling rather than frowning defeatedly tosses her arms in the air, stomps over, and wraps them around me. “Fine. But I hate this. Not the you having a job thing. I like that. I think you’ll like that. And I can’t wait to hear all about your work gossip-”
“I don’t gossip.”
“You will,” she casually brushes off. “I just…hate that there’s a huge new elephant in our relationship to eat right after it feels like we just finished one.”
Her reference to our late spring cleaning summons a soft grin to my face.
Originally, we were just focused on the bedroom yet during the process of looking at furniture and deciding what to change, something even more life-altering was decided. Jaye was ready to remove all of Chris’s old things, including the model cities. Those went to his parents – who seemed to not only be happy she’s moved on but like that I’m a hands-on type of man – while everything else has gone and is going to various charities around the city. Some things have been given to homeless shelters, some have been given to charities that assist in the rebuilding of lives – from domestic cases to disaster relief – and some local programs that go out and give directly to those in need. The whole thing has taken longer than we expected but honestly? I think it was good for Jaye. She picked the speed. She picked what went where. She chose how to finally close that chapter of her life before we move onto our next one. I’m proud of her.
“We’ll eat this new one, the same way we’ve eaten all the others.” It’s my turn to wrap my arms around her, hands folding at the small of her back. “One bite at a time.” Our mouths briefly brush for a soft kiss. “Now, how about you put those cookie making hands to a different use and help load up the boxes we need to take down to the shelter that’s at Chester and 7th?”
Jaye joyfully nods and delivers one more peck prior to bouncing off to complete her task.
In an almost conveyer belt like fashion, old pieces come out of the house while pieces that arrive from the delivery teams go in. I do everything I can to make the transition as smooth as possible. While Jaye handles boxes – using the now almost completely vacant garage – I conduct traffic through the front door. Move the California king mattress with Dane just in time for it’s smaller king replacement. Keep pathways clear and the man I know one day I’ll call my father-in-law properly hydrated.
The four of us work all morning into the early evening cleaning and building and relocating items elsewhere. As a thank you for their time and energy, Jaye declares she’s taking us all out to dinner, an invitation Dane nor her father passes on.
Just as my friend pulls away from the curb in his truck, wanting to drive himself over to the Pitter Patter Pizza Pub – just in case his favorite bartender is working – another car enters the cul-de-sac, this one freezing both Jaye and Charles’s frames as it arrives in front of our house.
Don’t worry. It’s not either of the Prescott’s or their divorce attorneys who I feel bad for. That split is gonna be a shit storm.
Seeing Mrs. Jenkins exit the vehicle is a surprise that manages to stumble me slightly backward.
Haven’t seen her since Steakageddon. Her and Jaye haven’t spoken in almost a month. I know it bothers my girlfriend – she’s literally said the shit – however she refuses to stay in cycles that don’t work for her or who she’s growing into. She loves her mother – again she literally said it – but needs her to respect the changes she’s made. And that she’s making. Especially in regard to me.
Mrs. Jenkins slowly approaches where the three of us are standing. “Good evening, everyone.”
“Hey, Mags.”
“Hi…Mom…”
“Hello, Mrs. Jenkins.”
She stops at the edge of the driveway, keeping her distance. “I knew today was moving day and I…I just wanted to stop by and…and…”
The lost end of her sentence prompts her daughter to finish it, “See how it went?”
Mrs. Jenkins coyly nods.
“Good!” Jaye joyously shrugs. “The shelters all seemed really appreciative of the donations and Dad and Dane only managed to chip one doorframe during the furniture removal process.”
“That was all him,” Charles casually brushes off.
I rest my hand on the small of her back at the same time I say, “It’s an easy fix, sweetheart.”
“It is for someone as handy as you must be,” Mrs. Jenkins states to me in what almost sounds like a friendly way. “Given that you’ve done some spectacular renovations.” She nervously folds her hands in front of her. “At least um…at least from the pictures I’ve seen.”