Page 9 of Beautiful Crazy

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Page 9 of Beautiful Crazy

As it turns out, my grandma’s house is in need of some home improvements. A new roof, updated flooring all throughout, and appliances. It’s… a lot. But I kind of expected as much when I made the decision to come here.

I went to the local appliance store this morning, looking to get an estimate for what everything is going to cost, and I started chatting with one of the employees there about my situation, and he provided me with the name and number for a local contractor. Apparently, he’s pretty well-known and reputable around here. After I got the quotes I was looking for, I called him from my car, and we’ve scheduled a meeting for Monday to go over my ideas.

It’s not exactly an item crossed off my mile long to-do list, but it’s a start. I was also able to get a great deal on the appliances since I was getting them all at the same time, so today is going pretty damn great if I do say so myself.

Pulling into my driveway, I climb out, and walk up toward my porch where there’s a black, fuzzy, curled-up cat waiting for me. As I ascend the steps, it pops its little head up, chirping at my presence. Stretching its arm out wide, it yawns, repositioning itself on the outdated patio chair that I need to replace.

“Well, hello,” I coo. “Who are you?”

The little black ball of fur meows at me, the sound broken and raspy, before yawning for a second time and standing. I hold out my hand, and the cat wastes no time brushing the side of its head up against it. I have no clue if it’s a girl or a boy, but whatever it is, it’s sure friendly. When I move to unlock the front door, it jumps down, clearly wanting to come inside.

Glancing down at the fluffy creature, I wonder if maybe it belonged to my grandma. However, it’s been three months since she passed away. That’s a long time for the cat to be without a home, and it doesn’t appear to be malnourished or too thin, so maybe not.

“Who do you belong to, sweetie?”

It meows again, pawing at the front door from between my legs.

“I don’t have any food,” I tell the cat like it can actually understand me. Hell, maybe it does, because as soon as I say that, it chirps again before darting down the stairs and across the yard. “Well, all right, then.”

After I unlock the door and set my things on the kitchen counter, I head back out to my car to grab the restof the stuff I got from my trip to the grocery store. Just as I’m closing my trunk, a car pulls into my neighbor’s driveway.

Gemma.I still can’t believe she’s my new neighbor. What are the odds? She smiles and gives me a quick wave before putting her car in park. I return the gesture just as the back door opens and a boy climbs out.

“Who are you?” he asks, a quizzical look on his face.

“I’m Everett,” I tell him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Sutton,” the boy says. “Are you our new neighbor?”

Gemma rounds the front of the car, coming to a stop beside him.

“Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you, Sutton.” My eyes flit over to Gemma. “Hello again.”

Her eyes twinkle as she smiles at me. “Hi, Everett.”

Her arm is full of bags, so it’s clear they just got home from the grocery store too. We must’ve just missed one another.

“Is this your son?” I ask curiously. The resemblance is uncanny; it’s kind of a stupid question.

A wide smile spreads on her face as she glances down at the kid who’s not much shorter than she is. The love in her gaze is evident. “He sure is.”

“You know the woman who lived here before you died?” he asks me, and I can’t help but laugh when Gemma’s eyes widen.

“Sutton!” she hisses. The whole mom thing is unexpected, but hot.

“What? She did!”

“I did know that,” I reply. “She was my grandma.”

“Oh, shoot.” His face falls. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” I shrug. “It’s the circle of life.”

Without even missing a beat, Sutton suggests, “You should have dinner with us tonight. My mom is making homemade pizza.”

“Oh, Sut,” Gemma cuts in, suddenly looking flustered. It’s adorable. “I’m sure Everett’s got better things to do than eat dinner with us.”

“Actually, I don’t. That sounds delicious.” Looking to Gemma, I add, “If it’s all right with you.”




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