Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I had walked past The Henchmen compound thousands of times in my life, back when I was younger, and the older bikers would catcall at me and occasionally follow me, making Babcia insist that if I was going to walk into town, I had to bring Duke and Duchess with me - a set of enormous German Shepherds she had owned back then. They were surly and loyal and hated strangers, which meant they kept the bikers from stepping out beyond their gates when I passed.
Things had seemed to calm down under new leadership many years back. You might still get hit on or whistled at, but there was never anything truly threatening, anything that made your skin crawl.
I felt safe enough as I shoved my feet into my knee-high winter faux furry brown boots over my leggings, but under my simple blue linen skirt - a favorite of mine because it had these two deep pockets up front for storing stuff in - then pulled on a heavy knitted cape that Babcia had made for herself to wear in the winters because she hated the sleeves of jackets, claiming it made her feel like she had no range of motion.
"Alright, Lefty and Buckeye," I called, speaking to the dogs whose names had come with them, even poor Sniffmore which was short for Sniffmorebutts, who I had over time shortened down to Sniffy to save him his pride, "You two hold down the fort. When I get back, we can play some fetch."
With that, I made my way outside, giving Gerry, a tuxedo barn cat who liked to sunbathe on the railing of the deck - yes, even in the snow - a nod since he would rip my arm to shreds if I tried to pet him, and heading off with Reeve's jacket folded under my arm.
The snow was a good eight inches deep, making walking slow, but I didn't mind. There was nothing quite as beautiful as freshly fallen snow. Before the plows came out and made a mess of everything. Before driveways were shoveled, and piles of snow and dirt were scattered everywhere, ruining the freshness of it all. I didn't remember the last time I shoveled a driveway. Having no car, that seemed like a ridiculous task. I usually did the front walk, and a small path and circular spot out back when the snow was deep so the dogs could do their business like normal.
Animal lover I might have been. And okay with animals that could not learn to potty train like the tortoise having to be cleaned up after, I was. But I was never going to be someone who was okay with wee-wee pads all over the house. The only reason I could keep so many animals was that - mass of knickknacks and overabundance of furniture aside - I kept the place clean. No one wanted dog hair piled in corners and bird dander all over every surface.
It was days like this that I was reminded why I was glad I permanently left the city.
I had been raised there with my mom but spent all my summers and school breaks with Babcia in New Jersey. When my mother got word that Babcia was having a hard time keeping up her house when I was seventeen, my mother had decided to throw money at it - a task she was well-known for - and hire a live-in for her. I had six months left in school - and until I was eighteen - so I could do nothing but stand by and listen to Babcia complain when she called me about how Angela kicked one of her dogs and told her she fed the birds, when she hadn't, how the antique grandfather clock in the living room went missing, along with her mother's wedding ring.
She has so much junk, Mireya, who cares if a few things went missing?
That was my mother's distracted way of dealing with the situation.
So the day I got a diploma in my hands, I packed everything I could into two suitcases, bought a bus ticket, and made my way back to Jersey where I promptly fired Angela and took her place myself.
Being a caretaker to a woman who was closing in on one-hundred - along with all her animals - meant that there was very little - if any - free time left over. I couldn't go to college or take night classes. Even if I did know 'what I wanted to do with' my life.
So I got creative.
I walked dogs. And house sat. And watered plants. And after some careful planting to make many of the ingredients, started my own organic personal products line that I sold online.
I wasn't rolling in money. I never would be. But the house had been paid off since Babcia lost her husband, and the bills were minimal. I did fine.