Chapter 13
Zoey
Today has been the longest day of my life.
Okay. Maybe I’m taking a page out of Kylie’s book, and I’m a little bit more dramatic than I need to be.
By the way, she texted me and let me know that her plane landed safely in Paris. That was this evening as I was in the closet working on my project. I finished up editing my sweet romance and sent it back to the author.
She has a couple of weeks to go over it, make sure everything meets her specifications, and approve it. When she does that, she’ll pay me the rest of the money she owes me.
I hope she works fast.
Still, for the last thirty minutes or so, I’ve been listening for Pete. I know he’s not supposed to be home until nine, but I thought maybe he’d get off early. I don’t really know what Baxley’s bedtime routine is, but he comes in about 9:15.
I hear him pause outside in the hall.
Almost like he wants to walk to my door and knock on it. I hold my breath kinda hoping he will. But he doesn’t, and I hear him go in.
It isn’t long after that that I pick up Flipper, because wasn’t she the reason I am going over? I grab my keys and go out my door.
I like the idea of visiting the neighbor. I can’t deny that the idea of seeing Pete makes my stomach feel nervous in a weirdly happy way. I know that’s strange, but it’s true. There’s just something about him that makes my whole body want to see him.
And hear him. His voice does crazy things to me.
I knock, and it’s not two seconds later that he opens the door.
“You heard me,” he says as a greeting.
I nod. “I was listening.”
“I’m sorry I’m a little bit late. I didn’t realize Baxley was such a great ping-pong player,” he says as he stands back, opening the door wider as I walk in.
“She is?” I say. I didn’t know. Maybe we’ve had a few conversations about ping-pong, or something. I guess I’ve been downstairs to watch movies and I’ve seen the table, but if Baxley ever asked me to play, I don’t remember.
“Yeah. I thought I was good, but she beat me one game out of three.”
“So you won twice? By a lot?” I say, thinking that he might be being modest.
As I speak, Flipper jumps out of my arms, hops to the chair and onto the table. She has her eyes completely fixed on the bird.
“I’m sorry. I guess I never even thought that it’s probably rude to bring my cat if she’s just going to stand on your kitchen table the whole time.”
I hadn’t considered that at all, and honestly, I’m embarrassed.
“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t bother me, if it doesn’t bother you.”
“She’s not really allowed to be on my table, but I don’t get super strict about stuff, since it’s just me.”
“It might not always be just you, and then the people who you live with might not appreciate her being on the table.”
“That’s a good point.” I nod. Interestingly, the idea of being with someone is a lot more appealing to me than it used to be. I think that Pete has an awful lot to do with that.
“Leo’s love bunny. Leo’s love bunny,” Trixie says, maybe inspired to speak since all of us are looking at him. Or, maybe it’s Flipper. Because Trixie seems very interested in my cat.
“I’ve been trying to teach him to say ‘Pete’, but he won’t.”
“Precious. Precious.”
“That’s what he says instead,” Pete says, looking annoyed.
I haven’t seen an expression on his face yet that doesn’t make him look handsome. Annoyance is no exception.
It’s all I can do to tare my eyes away and looked back at the bird, instead of staring at Pete, which is what I want to do.
“So is everything okay?” I ask, wanting to know whether it is as difficult as he was afraid it was going to be.
“Want to come on in and sit down for a little bit? We can talk when we’re settled,” Pete says, motioning to the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? I have water and... I can make coffee, but I don’t drink it this late.”
“I don’t need anything. I’m perfectly fine.”
“All right. They fed me while I was there,” Pete says as we walked into the living room, and I see the chair sitting against the wall.
I point to it. “Is that where you sit?” I ask, and I don’t need to add whenever you and I talk.
“Yeah. Wherever you sit when you do your recording is right on the other side of that.”
“Interesting.” I smile a little, thinking about Pete sitting there listening to me. It’s a little bit embarrassing. After all, it’s not like I’m saying things I want to say, I’m reading what someone else has written, and I don’t necessarily agree with it, or think it’s any good. I’m just an actor, paid to bring it to life.
“Did you get your book finished?” he asks, and I’m kind of shocked he remembered that I was working on it and was almost done. In my experience, when I talk to guys, they don’t really pay attention to what I say, and they definitely can’t remember it well enough to ask me a question about it a day or two later.
My estimation of Pete went up a few notches.
“I did. I sent it off to the author, and if she approves it, I’ll get the rest of my money.”
“So you get paid thousands of dollars for a book?” he asks, and then he adds, “Not to be nosy.”
“You’re not. I don’t mind telling you. That’s probably a pretty high book. It depends on the length, honestly. But, what most authors do is pay me by the finished hour. So, if the book is six hours long, and I get three hundred dollars per finished hour, that’s eighteen hundred dollars.”
“Wow. That’s not much at all.”
“No. Considering the equipment that I have to buy, and the amount of time I put into it. I... Don’t really mind though because I love it.”
“That’s interesting. If you were an actor in a movie, you would get paid an awful lot of money, and no one would remember the writer. But books are almost the exact opposite, where the author gets most of the money, and the narrator kind of gets shoved aside, at least from my point of view,” he says, looking at me as though looking for confirmation.
“That’s a good comparison, although I’ve never thought about it that way. But you’re right. It’s the actors in the movies who are the big deal. Even the special-effects people, who might be really talented, and of course without the writers there wouldn’t be a movie, but none of them get as much attention as the people bringing it to life. Narrators just don’t get those kind of accolades. I guess.”
“And they’re using your voice for their words. It’s...feels like you should get paid every time someone listens.”
“I certainly wouldn’t turn it down,” I say. Then, I realize that we never got to talk about the ping-pong, or anything that happened to him, and I’m curious.
“So you didn’t tell me how much you beat Baxley by?”
“Just a couple of points. When I say she’s good, I’m serious.”
“Leo and his love bunny. Leo and his love bunny. Precious. Precious.”
I laugh, but Pete gets a little bit red.
“That bird and I have talked about this. And I feel like he’s not saying my name on purpose. Just to be contrary.”
“Well, I guess that’s not the way I look at it. I think it’s funny.”
“Especially since he’s probably talking to your cat.”
“It does look like he’s looking that way,” I say, glancing over my shoulder and leaning a little so I could look back into the kitchen.
“You have to come watch us play. She’s actually really good. I am surprised that you didn’t know.” Pete picks up our conversation before it was interrupted.
“I didn’t know, but I guess I’m not surprised. If you didn’t notice, the adults in her life are not overly interested in her. Or maybe I should say, she has to be interested in what they are doing, not the other way around.”
“I did notice that, and I feel a little bit bad for her.”
“I know she’s excited about going to the farm. And, maybe I can try to spend a little bit more time with her, more than I usually do, since Kylie is not there. Especially now that I’m done with my book.” As much as I wish I had another project lined up, because I could really use the money, I’m kind of glad I don’t. Because, it’s not everyday that I get to spend time with my niece, and... Okay. I am excited about hanging out with Pete, too. And now, with the ping pong, I have a legitimate reason.
“So what did you do the rest of the day?” Pete says. “Were you at the diner?”
“Yeah. I waitressed until two. Sometimes I don’t have quite that long of a day, but we were busy today, and actually when I turned the close sign over we still had customers.”
“Wow. I almost came. I... Didn’t want you to think I was stalking you though.”
“I wouldn’t think that.”
“Maybe I’ll come tomorrow. Are you working?”
“Eight to twelve,” I say. “It’s a part-time gig, and I hardly ever get full-time hours like I did today.”
“I see. But that enables you to do your other things,” he says, and again, I’m surprised he was listening to me that well. It makes me feel like he truly does care.
Whether that’s as a friend, or more, I don’t know. My heart wants to argue it’s the latter, but my brain says he probably appreciates having a friend in the building as well.
Although, from what I understand, Cal still lives here, despite the fact that he’s a high dollar hockey player.
“Are the apartments upstairs nicer?” I asked, while the thought is on my mind.
He looked surprised. “A lot nicer. Why?”
I lift a shoulder. It was a weird question.
“I was just thinking that you actually do have a friend in the building, Cal. But he probably lives in a nicer apartment.”
“Yeah. Cal's pretty unpretentious. He doesn’t live in one of the luxury apartments at the top. Luxury for Whisker Hollow, not luxury like you would expect to find in New York City or something.”
“Gotcha,” I say, knowing exactly what he means. “It would be luxury compared to our apartments.” I’m right, that his apartment is exactly like mine. Pretty much a mirror image. They probably would be smart to have put our living rooms across from each other, since that would mean that his TV wouldn’t be against the wall that is my bedroom. And that’s when I notice that he doesn’t have one.
“So you don’t have a TV.”
He lifts a shoulder, a sheepish smile on his face, like he knows that’s odd. “I don’t like sitting still long enough to watch it. I have too many other things I want to do. I actually don’t spend a whole lot of time here.” He lifted a hand like it was a big deal.
“Did you go to the farm today?” I ask.
“I did. I did not want to take this on, and leave the force for an entire month, but I know that Aunt Arley is happy that I will be able to put more time into it. I could work all day every day for six months, and not get caught up on all the things that need to be done. But, since I have this month, I might as well make the most of it.”
“I would think you’d be hanging out, enjoying your time off. After all, if you’re working until nine, you’re still putting in almost eight hours as a personal security guard, and if you put in more than fourteen hours each day of the weekend, you’ll definitely have more than forty hours in for the week.
“Yeah. I thought about that, but I’m happiest when I’m busy. So that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Plus, I often put in fifty or sixty hour weeks on the force.”
“They're understaffed,” I offer.
“They are. I know the money that this is bringing them will be put to good use. Although, I doubt that they’ll hire any more manpower. The equipment needs updating, we need new patrol cars, and the roof of the building leaks.”
“Wow,” I say. I had no idea all those things were wrong.
“That’s just the start. I could give you another list, but... They just expect an awful lot from a little. And it’s kind of frustrating sometimes that money goes to places where people waste it, and that government funding never seems to come our way.”
“I bet that would be frustrating. I guess as a citizen, I don’t really notice, and it always sounds so virtuous to invest in schooling, like that’s a good thing.”
“Yeah that’s probably the biggest waste ever. But, I’m a terrible person to talk to about it, because I hated school, even though I didn’t do terrible in it, I just felt...trapped.”
“I’m not so sure that kids are supposed to be caged up for entire days, the way they are nowadays. I mean, school days used to be a lot shorter, and kids had a lot more exercise getting there and getting back.”
“Yeah. My parents always said they walked uphill both ways, and usually in three feet of snow.”
I laugh.
He smiles along with me, and the evening feels magical. Not in a Christmas kind of way, but just in a I’m with someone that I really like, and they live right beside me, and I’m enjoying spending time with them, and I feel...seen and heard and content.
That would be a good word to describe how I feel. Content.
Although I know as a Christian, I’m supposed to be content in whatever situation I find myself. I’m extra content right now. Because that’s just how I feel when I’m with Pete.
“So, you think you might be able to make it over tomorrow evening?” Pete asks, and it sounds like he’s been turning that over in his mind, waiting for the right moment to ask.
I almost smile at the thought. He’s not a bashful person, but he also isn’t pushy either.
I like that balance he has.
“Yes. I definitely will be over. Since I get off at the diner so early, I’ll be able to come home and do a little bit of recording.”
“I thought you said your book was done.”
“It is. I don’t have another project lined up, but I’ve been recording public domain books, and putting those up on my social media channels. It doesn’t make me a ton of money, but it’s almost enough to buy groceries every month.”
“Wow. Which public domain book are you doing?”
“The Scarlet Pimpernel. I’ve enjoyed practicing my accent for it. I don’t know if I have it nailed down, but I’ll find out as soon as I get the first few chapters up, and people start leaving comments.”
“How many viewers do you have?” he asks, sounding extremely interested.
“Well I have a couple thousand subscribers, but I have more views than I have subscribers.”
“Yeah. I don’t always subscribe to channels, even though I like to watch them. I just... Don’t bother. I’m not sure why.”
“Same. And I even have a channel myself. I’m not sure why I’m so hesitant to hit the subscribe button. Maybe because I don’t want to get everything all jumbled up, and subscribe to channels I don’t really want to watch.”
“Yeah. That might be why, sometimes social media just gets overwhelming.”
“True. But I am trying to supplement my living with it, so I can’t complain too much. Plus, I’m hopeful that maybe someday someone from Hollywood will hear me, somewhere, on social media, or some other venue, and think that my voice is perfect for some kind of animation.”
“I guess you’ll move out of here and head to Hollywood when that happens?” he asks, and maybe it’s my imagination, but he does not sound happy about it.
“I guess I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I just think that at that point in time, I won’t have to worry about paying rent or buying groceries, and that seems so luxurious I can hardly imagine it.”
“So funny, because your family has plenty of money. You could just move back in, couldn’t you?” he asks, and I hesitate.
I guess I hadn’t meant to go on about how poor I was. If I had been remembering the lectures I had given myself it was that I didn’t want him to find out how ridiculously inept I am at taking care of myself
“I suppose I could. I wasn’t kicked out of the house or anything. My parents are not favoring Kylie and leaving me out in the cold.”
“Okay. That’s reassuring. Because I was starting to worry that maybe they were.”
“No. Not at all. They would take me back in a heartbeat, and I kind of think that they would like that. But, I... I like the challenge I guess,” I say, not really sure how to explain it. “I do think that kids should stay with their parents until their married. That’s so old-fashioned, and almost laughable in our society.”
“Really, it is, but I understand where you’re coming from. I don’t think that it’s normal for kids to move out and to live on their own. Just my opinion.”
“Yeah. We’ve made it normal, but it’s not the way society is really supposed to be. You move out of your home when you get married. Not move out of your home into a home of your own, then try to make everything work on your own.”
“Yeah. I agree completely.”
“Would you move back in with your parents?” I ask, since I seem to be in the hot seat, and he’s agreeing with everything I say, but he’s living alone.
“They moved to an over fifty-five community. I couldn’t move back in with them if I wanted to. But, sometimes I wonder if maybe they would have stayed in the house that I grew up in, if I hadn’t moved out, you know?”
“Yeah. I think sometimes kids moving out is a relief to parents, but if you raise them right, your losing a lot when your kids move out.”
“Yeah exactly, I suppose the way we raise kids is different today than it used to be, and you’re right. So many parents are actually relieved to find their kids gone.”