Chapter 4 Mitchell
MITCHELL
I finished rinsing the last of the paint from the roller and flushed the sink clean with a feeling of satisfaction.
This small house was part of my ticket out of here and this time tomorrow, I’d hopefully be receiving the first replies to the ad I’d called to place on Craig’s List after getting back from that disaster of a date. I glanced around.
It’s no palace but it looks heaps better than it did. Amazing what a couple of gallons of white paint and new vinyl flooring will do.
I eyed the cabinets. They had seen better days but thankfully, my grandmother had never ripped out the original oak cabinets and replaced them.
They were sound, but tatty and I was positive that it was nothing a good scrub down with the Murphy’s Oil Soap I’d bought wouldn’t sort out.
Those and the new handles and patterned adhesive shelf lining would hopefully make this place look much more inviting.
I smiled to myself, looking again at the drying walls of the living room.
You couldn’t even see where I’d filled in the picture holes with the last of the tube of my grandmother’s Pepsodent toothpaste.
Two bedrooms, one bath so it’s suitable for a family. Won’t get top money for this place, but the rent will pay the property taxes and give me some money towards post-graduation living expenses.
It would be nowhere near enough to pay for nursing school, but I had a plan for that, ignoring the ghost of my grandmother’s words.
“You’ll never amount to anything. You’re far too stupid to waste money for college on. You can barely read after twelve years of school that was free, so what a waste of the government’s money that was!”
I’d be fine. I could read, it just was harder for me.
Besides, under the Disabilities Act, I was entitled to support for my dyslexia.
And once working a real nursing job, I’d make sure my employer knew about it so I could always have someone help me with reading notes if I had to.
There were plenty of people with dyslexia who graduated college and held down professional jobs.
Not just nurses, either. Mrs. Simmons, one of my teachers during my junior year of high school, told me she also was dyslexic, and she taught English!
If she could do it, so could I. I just had to put my mind to it and make use of aids and support.
I just need to get this rented so I can finalize my plans for school.
I took the paint roller and tray and placed them outside the back door on the concrete patio outside the back door leading out from the kitchen.
Once they were dry, I’d bag them up and put them and the leftover paint in the small metal shed that also housed the ancient lawnmower.
The tenants were welcome to make use of them or donate them to Goodwill or something.
I didn’t care one way or the other. Once this place was rented, I only intended to ever look at it again when it was time to renew leases or get it ready for a new tenant.
To be honest, once I’d graduated from nursing school and had a good paying job under my belt, somewhere as far away from here as possible, I’d probably sell it to one of those house-flipper types and use the money to help buy myself a nice little condo.
One of those places with a pool and a gym and a view of the mountains, or maybe a lake or a beach.
Some place really nice that wasn’t here, that was for damned sure.
I walked out to my car and took out the new pillow, sleeping bag mat, and sleeping bag I’d splurged on, and went back inside.
I sat them down in the living room, not even wanting to go into what used to be my bedroom.
I made myself a sandwich with the bread, mayo, and tomatoes still in the fridge and poured myself a glass of milk to go with it.
It was a simple supper, but until I’d gone to the Mylos Scholarship Lottery building in nearby Tarleston and obtained the scholarship funds, it was the best I could do, especially after splurging out for diner food earlier.
I had an appointment first thing in the morning, nine a.m. sharp, so I set my phone to get me up at seven.
That gave me time to shower and shave what little patchy scruff I did get, which wasn’t much.
I’d clean the bathroom up once I got back, in case anyone saw the ad and asked to view this place right away.
I felt more upbeat as I unrolled my bedding and stripped off to climb inside. If today’s disastrous attempt at a lunch date had taught me anything, it was that no one wanted to date a lard-assed carrot top like me.
Heh. At least that goes to show that I have nothing to worry about tomorrow. No way would the universe pair me with one of those hunky Mylos.
Despite being labeled with no odor, there was a trace of paint smell in the air.
I got up and walked over to the kitchen window, opening it just a crack.
This wasn’t the worst neighborhood, but it was no paradise either.
There was no sense opening the one in the living room and letting a potential burglar know there was an easy way in.
That done, I climbed back inside my sleeping bag.
I could feel a cool draft of air wafting through the room now, though it didn’t seem to help with the lingering chemical smell all that much.
I’d just have to grin and bear it, like with everything else in my life, it seemed.
I sighed and closed my eyes, listening to the deep silence of the house.
After a few moments, I could hear the sounds of cars driving and the sound of a dog a few streets away barking.
Then, finally, nothing as I fell asleep at last.