Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“Yeah, um… I know you have someone coming in a couple of times a week to do the books for Barlow’s. Do you think maybe if she decides to quit, I can take over from her?” Colt bought the auto repair shop from our parents before Nellie was born, and since then, it’s only become more successful.
“Thank Christ, Kara. Only been wanting you to come to work for me for years now. When can you start?” This is why I’ve held off as long as I have—I didn’t want someone to lose their job.
“Well, I mean, I don’t want to take someone’s bread and butter. Plus, I’d have to turn in my two weeks’ notice.” For someone who was ready to pass out a moment ago, I sure did a one-eighty mighty fast. Which only means one thing: sleep isn’t going to come easy once this phone call is over.
“Cool. You’ll start in two weeks. Maybe the office won’t be such a shit show, and I won’t have to deal with ordering parts.” And just like that, there’s no going backsies.
“Alright, we’ll talk more tomorrow,” I say on another yawn.
“Love you, Aunt Kara Bear!” Nellie says so loudly, I wince. This is what I get for not putting my phone on speaker.
“I love you, too. See you tomorrow.”
“Later. Call me. Seriously, it doesn’t matter the time, I’m there,” Colt reiterates nearly verbatim what our dad said.
“I will. Hopefully, it won’t come to that, though.” I plug my phone into the charger that I’ll place on my nightstand once we hang up.
“Same. Night.”
“Good night, big brother.” We hang up, I double-check my alarm is set, turn off my bedside light, grab the remote, and make sure my fan is on high to drown out any of the noises I might hear through the night.
It doesn’t matter the weather, cold or hot, the air conditioner blasting, or the heater on, I need the moving air and the noise. The television is awesome, but I more or less get sucked into what’s playing, then sleep never comes. Once I have everything ready, I put on my weighted eye mask, sink into my mattress, and hope that slumber takes hold.
I replay everything that’s happened the past couple of days—all of the planning, preparing, and then working tirelessly to make everything the way I want it. My type-A entered the chat, making resting impossible anytime I saw a box that needed to be unpacked, and when my groceries were delivered, I dealt with it all over again, this time by myself, since everyone had left for the evening. When I sent Mom a text with the mountains of bags, she laughed, and Dad went into overprotective mode, a lot like Colt did tonight. I held him off, barely, and worked my way through the mess.
My eyes slowly become heavy. The crisp, cool sheets, the thick and plush patchwork quilt that my mom handed down to me as an heirloom from my grandmother and the noise of the whirring fan lull me to sleep. I roll over onto my side and put my hands in a prayer pose, letting out another yawn, when a loud, shrilling voice makes me sit up straight.
I rip the eye mask off my face. “What the hell was that?” I flip the light on and look every which way, ready to figure out why I would hear people in my room. I adjust to the brightness, feeling like I’m losing it, when it happens again.
“Oh, dear god, my neighbor must be deaf.” My ears perk up at hearing a squall a few moments later, and I realize it’s none other than I Love Lucy. I vividly remember watching reruns of this show growing up, and it seems now I get to listen to it in my dreams. I turn my fan up to the highest setting, get back into bed, turn the light off again, and this time, even my mask isn’t doing any magical tricks. I’m apparently up for the foreseeable future.
My alarm blared to life after what felt like only falling asleep for two minutes. I’m exhausted, I’m sure I look like what a cat dragged in from a night out, and am ready to bang on my neighbor's wall to give them a dose of their own medicine. Except I’m not an asshole, and while all I can think about is my lack of sleep, I’m also riddled with worry about what’s happening on the other side of my wall.
I’m walking to my car, firmly in my thoughts, sipping on my extra-strong, extra-bold brewed cup of coffee with more creamer than necessary, but that’s what happens when sleep deprivation kicks in.
What I’m totally unprepared for is the man I see walk toward me. The sip I was about to take is no longer a concern. I’m no longer drowsy and worried about looking for a place to lay my head. Nope, I’m wide awake and looking at a man who lives in the same apartment complex, or at least I hope he does, because seeing him around would surely brighten my day.