Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
My phone buzzes from its place on the table. I should ignore it. But the last thing I want is to make Lennon worry. We have this pact in place: I let her know when I’m on the road and when I’m tucked in at night because she worries, and even with the tracking app on my phone, it’s sometimes not enough. I get it. There have been times my big sister has gone away for work, and for one reason or another, neither of us could get through and our location services decided not to work either.
Lennie: That looks a lot better than my breakfast.
I’m greeted with a picture of a bowl; upon further investigation, I realize what Lennie is eating. Cereal. She’s thirty-five years old and eating a sugary bowl of frosted flakes.
Me: Why would you subject yourself to something like that? You hate cereal.
I take another bite of food, following with it with the coffee while wondering if I should head back to the register and buy some coffee grounds for myself. I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to find this blend anywhere else, meaning I found the answer before I talk myself out of it. This is a vacation, which means splurges are more than allowed. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am. I consolidated everything I own into a small storage unit, a small ten by ten, air conditioned and paid for the next three months even though I’m only going to be gone for one. My lease being up meant if I could find a great spot and wanted to prolong my trip, I could at least work while in the van.
Lennie: You see, my sister foisted all of her extra food off on me. Waste not, want not.
I let out a snort. That is so Lennon. She’s been this way since I can remember. When we were younger and money was tight, we’d have leftover nights where she’d make something different in order for us not to get bored. Now that she can afford to have anything she wants, she’s still this way. Which includes the food I left that wouldn’t fit in my van.
Me: Lennon, honey, eat whatever you want. You only live once.
A few minutes later, I’ve cleared my plate, my cup of coffee is devoured, and there’s nothing left for me to do. I could sit back and enjoy my time on the back patio, except I’ve somehow managed to have ants in my pants about visiting the gateway arch and the zoo. Both are within miles of each other. There’s still a lot of daylight left, so I may as well enjoy it.
Lennie: Yeah, yeah. Have a good day and send pics when you’re in for the night. Love you!
Me: Will do, love you
True to my word, before leaving this cute breakfast place, I head back to the counter to grab two bags of maple coffee, then drop off my plate, silverware, and mug in the drop zone. After asking the cashier if she can grind the beans, I check out. I head back to my van to take in the last couple of sights before I’m back on the road. Tomorrow will be a long haul through Nebraska, which I’ll travel straight through. I also have no plans to make a stop on the way back, unlike Kentucky. Unless something piques my interest, I don’t see a reason to sightsee. The more time I’m able to visit Jackson Hole, Wyoming and the surrounding areas, the better. The cabin is rented for the week of Christmas into the New Year. Other than that, I’m in my van.
“Thank you, we hope to see you again,” one of the restaurant workers says as I’m making my way through the restaurant and toward the door.
“Thanks, you too.” I look at the calendar of events they have on the board. “Bummer,” I mutter under my breath when I notice they have bingo and brunch on Sundays. Missed that by a few days. At least I’m stocked up on their delicious coffee, and while I love the caramel flavor Lennon packed, one can’t have too much of the bean-powered fuel.
The freezing air smacks me right dab in the face, making me realize if I’m going to be outside for most of the day, I’ll need my hat, gloves, and a scarf. Maybe even a thicker jacket since the one I’m currently wearing has the cold settling in deep into my bones. I’m not sure how I’ll manage, but I will. With my plans solidly in place, I get my day started.
CHAPTER 2
Clay
The last place I want to be is in town. I’d much prefer my mountain and the semblance of peace and quiet. When people quit fucking sliding into my mountain or breaking down, that is. Hence the damn reason I’m at the tractor supply store. My damn skid steer has taken a beating between helping people out and working around my own place. The entire way into town, I was tempted to turn around. People are out and about, business owners are decorating every square inch, and all I can think about is why. Why go to all the trouble when we’ll be snowed in half the damn time anyway? You won’t see me decorating shit at my place, not inside and definitely not outside. The last thing I need is for my place to be a beacon of light. My luck, they’ll plow through the fence, drive up the mountain, and land inside my damn home.