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Sweatcoatsmybodyfrom head to toe, and I kick off my heavy blankets, practically gasping for air.
Shit. I knew the old heater still had a fighting spirit, but I didn’t expect it to go so hard. Though I suppose that’s my fault for busting it up to the highest setting. My whole body shivered from the time I got out of Oxley’s pickup to the minute I curled into bed with the heater on full blast. Not to mention my poor little fingers. I could barely feel them as I tried to load up the fireplace. Which reminds me, I need to ask someone about that. Apparently, lighting a fire isn’t as simple as I thought. No matter what I did, the big chunks of wood simply wouldn’t catch fire. It’s like karma's sick joke for not making a better effort for Nana.
Hell, I grew up here. I should know more about surviving than this. I feel like such an idiot.
Despite having a warm shower last night, I can’t help but strip down to my birthday suit and have another. There’s nothing worse than the feeling of dried sweat coating your body.
After getting myself dressed and ready for the day, I trudge through to the kitchen and sniff out the coffee, letting out a relieved sigh when I find the coffee pods for the fancy machine I bought Nana a few years ago. She loved this machine. Couldn’t get enough of it.
I fire it up, and as it comes to life, I head over to the fridge, but when I yank the door open, my eyes settle on the expired jug of milk.
Shit. I’m going to have to make a trip to the grocery store. And while I’m at it, I should probably invest in some better winter apparel. Nana kept all my heavy coats from my teen years, but they’re old and worn out. And as for Nana’s old clothes . . . I just can’t.
Having to make do without milk in my coffee, I settle at the kitchen counter with a notebook and pen while trying to figure out a game plan.
The house is in worse condition than I thought. Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. It’s livable, but it also doesn’t stand a chance when up against the modern homes in the area. This was Nana and Pop’s first and only home together. They raised my mom here and then raised me, and as much as I love that, it means the house is severely outdated. Hell, there are still lines on my bedroom door frame to mark my height over the years, which only goes to show that the house hasn’t been painted since I was a little girl.
I could try to sell it as-is, but I wouldn’t just be doing a disservice to myself, I’d be doing a disservice to Nana and Pop. They deserved the best price for the home they loved so much, even if it means extending my stay just a few extra weeks.
Opening my notebook to a fresh page, I jot down everything I need to do.
Sort through Nana’s possessions (create donate or trash piles)
Sell/trash old furniture
Remove old wallpaper
Fix imperfections in the drywall
Replace carpet
Upgrade floorboards
