little I thought of myself to be used by him. That something was deficient inside of me that I thought I could fulfill with attention from him. I learned my lesson the hard way that night, and now I wanted to make sure that John wasn’t just another Ernesto.
Of course his lack of communication could be that he was just busy writing, which I hoped was the reason. Oh no, now I was making excuses for him. Stop it. That was the old me. The new me said, Hanna didn’t make excuses for anyone. So I chided myself for being such a wussy and launched into a home improvement project with Emma.
In the absence of John, I had been spending most of my time hanging out with Emma and her little pixie daughter, Michele. The light dusting of freckles across her nose just made me want to hug her every time Michelle walked in the room. Although Emma protested a lot about Michelle annoying me, I didn’t mind it at all.
Emma was becoming my new best friend. She was sweet and funny, and despite being the worst cook ever, she was a good and stable mom for Michelle. Not like my mother who cared more about the bottle than her own daughter. I admired Emma for the dedication she put into her daughters’ upbringing and the hard work she put into this old house.
Emma told me that her mother had died earlier this spring and left her a small inheritance. The money was a blessing in disguise for Emma. It allowed her to purchase this Victorian style house. With eight bedrooms and turn of the century charm, it was easy for Emma to turn it into a Bed and Breakfast. She said she did it for Michele’s sake, it would allow her to spend more time with her daughter. With her previous job, waitressing evenings at the local diner, she hardly saw Michele most of the week. Renovating an old house like this one was harder than she’d anticipated, with leaky roof problems and ancient plumbing, it took a considerably larger amount of time and effort than she had counted on. She had hoped that everything would be ready for the big summer season, yet here summer had arrived and she still had so many rooms to fix up. There were days when she thought about going back to being a waitress, but in the end, all of her blood, sweat and tears were worth it to be her own boss and have time for Michelle.
For me, helping out here was the perfect distraction. I needed it while I waited for my hot money to cool down, my guilty treasure, the one I had wrapped in a dark garbage bag, hidden in my suitcase in the closet of my bedroom. Helping Emma fix up the rooms for more customers was just what I needed to get my mind off other things.
And then there was John. My mind kept turning back to him whenever I was given a quiet moment. I thought about making him my diversion, he certainly was a pleasant distraction or so my alter ego, Hanna, was telling me. Damn him. Sure, I could spend time laying on the beach every day, but that really wasn’t my scene and with all this anxious energy about the money, I wouldn’t be able to keep still. No, I needed to burn off all this excess energy, do work, dig holes, plant bushes, paint or whatever. Just do something. Besides, I sunburned too easily and I would waste a perfectly enjoyable experience with questions about John pecking at my mind, like the birds on the beach pecking at pebbles. It was better that I worked.
So, this fixer-upper project was just what the doctor ordered, and Emma’s house needed a lot of work, starting with a new paint job for the walls and doors. The kitchen cabinets needed new hinges and they would all benefit from a nice, dark, cherry stain job.
Emma was thrilled that I wanted to help. Her brown eyes beamed. “That would be great. Thank you so much, Hanna. With your help, I can open the other rooms for guests sooner. There are only three more months left of the season, so every day counts. You’re a godsend.”
“Just tell me what you want me to do. I am all yours,” I
Of course his lack of communication could be that he was just busy writing, which I hoped was the reason. Oh no, now I was making excuses for him. Stop it. That was the old me. The new me said, Hanna didn’t make excuses for anyone. So I chided myself for being such a wussy and launched into a home improvement project with Emma.
In the absence of John, I had been spending most of my time hanging out with Emma and her little pixie daughter, Michele. The light dusting of freckles across her nose just made me want to hug her every time Michelle walked in the room. Although Emma protested a lot about Michelle annoying me, I didn’t mind it at all.
Emma was becoming my new best friend. She was sweet and funny, and despite being the worst cook ever, she was a good and stable mom for Michelle. Not like my mother who cared more about the bottle than her own daughter. I admired Emma for the dedication she put into her daughters’ upbringing and the hard work she put into this old house.
Emma told me that her mother had died earlier this spring and left her a small inheritance. The money was a blessing in disguise for Emma. It allowed her to purchase this Victorian style house. With eight bedrooms and turn of the century charm, it was easy for Emma to turn it into a Bed and Breakfast. She said she did it for Michele’s sake, it would allow her to spend more time with her daughter. With her previous job, waitressing evenings at the local diner, she hardly saw Michele most of the week. Renovating an old house like this one was harder than she’d anticipated, with leaky roof problems and ancient plumbing, it took a considerably larger amount of time and effort than she had counted on. She had hoped that everything would be ready for the big summer season, yet here summer had arrived and she still had so many rooms to fix up. There were days when she thought about going back to being a waitress, but in the end, all of her blood, sweat and tears were worth it to be her own boss and have time for Michelle.
For me, helping out here was the perfect distraction. I needed it while I waited for my hot money to cool down, my guilty treasure, the one I had wrapped in a dark garbage bag, hidden in my suitcase in the closet of my bedroom. Helping Emma fix up the rooms for more customers was just what I needed to get my mind off other things.
And then there was John. My mind kept turning back to him whenever I was given a quiet moment. I thought about making him my diversion, he certainly was a pleasant distraction or so my alter ego, Hanna, was telling me. Damn him. Sure, I could spend time laying on the beach every day, but that really wasn’t my scene and with all this anxious energy about the money, I wouldn’t be able to keep still. No, I needed to burn off all this excess energy, do work, dig holes, plant bushes, paint or whatever. Just do something. Besides, I sunburned too easily and I would waste a perfectly enjoyable experience with questions about John pecking at my mind, like the birds on the beach pecking at pebbles. It was better that I worked.
So, this fixer-upper project was just what the doctor ordered, and Emma’s house needed a lot of work, starting with a new paint job for the walls and doors. The kitchen cabinets needed new hinges and they would all benefit from a nice, dark, cherry stain job.
Emma was thrilled that I wanted to help. Her brown eyes beamed. “That would be great. Thank you so much, Hanna. With your help, I can open the other rooms for guests sooner. There are only three more months left of the season, so every day counts. You’re a godsend.”
“Just tell me what you want me to do. I am all yours,” I
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