Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
The stale scent of mildew and old newspapers assaults my nose upon entry into the great room. “My grandfather was a bit of a pack rat, and this is after already discarding a bunch of stuff.”
“I…wow.” Aaron seems speechless as he looks around wide-eyed. But if he truly has a knack for this, he’ll no doubt see beyond the boxes and stacks.
John is silent, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Of course, he’s been to this house dozens of times over the years and knows my grandfather wasn’t one for tidiness.
He stares at the shelf of overcrowded knickknacks that, from a distance, seem like worthless junk. “He’s gotten worse, I see.”
“Apparently so. Rosie tried to throw stuff out when he wasn’t looking, but somehow, he would always know.” I laugh humorlessly. Grandpa did always seem attuned to the goings-on in his house. Especially after I started bringing John around. He only had one talk with me about it.
“He’s more than a friend, isn’t he?”
I fidget nervously. “Maybe. But if you’re gonna—”
“I don’t give two shits who you’re attracted to, but don’t bring any more trouble to my doorstep. And I’m not talking about you liking boys.”
He never mentioned my relationship with John again. That was when I began straightening up. Grandpa was right. He didn’t deserve the trouble, not after taking me in.
Aaron breaks me out of my thoughts. He’s wandered past the shabby dining table toward the kitchen. “Outside of the clutter, I can see the charm, but also where it needs work.” He slips beyond the narrow opening of the galley-style kitchen. “Maybe even knocking down this wall to open up the space.”
“I’m not sure all that is necessary. Plus, the cost—”
“Oh, I’m more than willing to invest my own money if it pays off in the sale. It’s what we do—Rocco and I—and more times than not, it’s worth it.”
“See? I told you he’d be interested,” John remarks.
Aaron smirks. “I haven’t made a final decision yet. It’s a lot of work.”
My face falls just as Aaron’s lips split into a grin. “Kidding! No way I’d pass up the opportunity to work on a house that still bears some of its Renaissance markings.” He trails his fingers across one of the casement windows, which has multiple diamond-shaped panes and was Grandpa’s favorite. “And help you sell it, of course.”
I breathe out in relief. “When can you get started?”
“Once everything is cleared out, I can restore the hardwood floors and repaint the molding and window sashes.”
“Good plan. I have Rosie helping, so between the two of us—”
“I can help too,” Aaron says, then turns to John. “As a matter of fact, I’m gonna stay and have Jack pick me up.”
“You sure?” John asks, blinking as if coming out of a spell.
Aaron nods. “It’ll give me more time to look around and get together a plan.”
“Okay, cool. Well, I’ve got a bar to open, so I’ll…catch you later.” John waves and I watch him walk out the door.
“Is it true you’ve been in movies?” Aaron asks as he picks up a stack of celebrity magazines.
“Nothing to write home about.”
“But it’s still your dream?”
“Well, I don’t know about—” I realize that despite how innocent these questions seem, it might be a fishing expedition on Aaron’s part, so I head in a different direction. “Yeah, sure. I just don’t know if I’m convinced it’ll happen anymore.”
“I get that.” He looks off in the distance. “I suppose it depends on what your definition of success is.”
“What do you mean?”
He angles his head in thought. “So, to me, you’ve already achieved a lot because you’ve acted in small parts. And some might think I was accomplished in San Jose with my real estate business. But maybe those things don’t exactly match our own definitions of success, so we have to rework them.”
“Like how you moved to Aqua Vista and started restoring houses again?”
“Exactly. It’s a success by my standards, not by society’s. Because it makes me happy. And not all accomplished people are.”
I feel a lump in my throat as I consider his definition, but it’s too much to unpack right now. Wanting to change the subject, I head toward the steps. “Let me show you upstairs. There’s a mountain view.”
Aaron is in awe as soon as I lead him up the burnished-wood staircase to the main bedroom, where there’s a wall of casement windows. “Such a great view. And you used to live here with him?”
Somehow I find it easier to talk to a stranger about that period of my life than relive the memories with John. “Yeah, I moved here my freshman year of high school.”
“And that’s when you and John started hanging out?”
“Yep. He was my best friend. And then became more, of course.” Even though my childhood was tumultuous, somehow thinking back to the simplicity of those times calms me.