Page 6 of Pete and His Precious

Regardless, I do feel guilty about it, but it also changed me. For one, I hate cops.

Not like I want to defund the police or anything. Nothing that stupid, but I just don’t want to see anyone in uniform anywhere near me.

“So, are you going to be at the festival?” Verity says, apparently reassured that my grandma is safe.

She died years ago, but there’s no point in bringing up old memories.

“I don’t know,” I say, and what I really mean is I’m not sure I can afford it. I haven’t been going anywhere I don’t have to go. I really, really want to make this voice acting thing work, but my jobs are few and far between, and the ones that I do have don’t pay that well. I have been trying to get my name out there, and doing everything I can, but... It’s been a rough road.

“I am supposed to be doing stuff with the library all day, but I can’t if I’m painting faces.”

Okay, it’s been a rough road, but I can still help out my town. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

She looks relieved, and I wonder why I resisted. Verity is a great artist, but I’m not terrible myself. I even give art and drawing lessons on top of everything else.

I say goodbye to Verity, and I head out of the library. Speaking of work, I’m in the middle of recording a sweet romance book, and while it’s not the best written book I’ve ever done, it’s still sweet and wholesome, which I appreciate.

I’ll go home and practice, doing the very best I can, and maybe this job will lead to an open door and tons of other jobs.

Or, maybe I’ll have to rethink my career choices.

I opened the door to my apartment building, and see the ladies who upholster furniture are still there. I love these ladies, even if they are a little bit pushy.

“Zoe!” Carrie says, her neon green hair sparkling in the florescent lights above her. She seems to be the ringleader, although maybe Phyllis is her co-ringleader.

“Hello, ladies,” I say, stopping and figuring that I’ll chat for a bit. I sometimes try to avoid them, especially when I’m depressed, since they don’t always help with that.

“My grandson is really excited about the farm field trip next week. That’s all he’s talked about all week,” Leslie said. She’s a little bit younger than the other ladies, and she’s super sweet.

“I hope they all have their tetanus shots,” Tammy says. She usually has something negative to add to the conversation, but I think I like her the best. Sometimes I don’t want to have a positive spin. Sometimes I just want to know life the way it is, and a lot of times, Tammy’s right on. Or maybe I’m just negative too, and I just really relate to Tammy.

“I’m excited about it. It’s been years since I’ve been on a farm.”

“When you’re married with children, you’ll be taking a ton of farm field trips, and you know all about it,” Miss Phyllis says, eyeing me over top of the table leg that stuck up from the floor.

“You’re absolutely right. When you find some guy who’s willing to have me, despite the fact that I have no looks, no money and no personality, let me know.”

I’ve been told by various guys over the course of the last twelve or thirteen years all of those things. So, I am in tune with my faults. Of course, I’ve been ghosted by more than one guy too, so maybe I have more, they just didn’t have the courage to tell me. See, I value courage.

“Oh you have plenty of personality,” Carrie said. She looked confused for a minute and then she says, “You have plenty of voices, which I assume goes with every personality you have.”

I bite back a laugh. I think she’s trying to give me a compliment, but isn’t quite sure how to go about it considering that my talent is not exactly mainstream.

“Yeah. Thank you,” I say, figuring that it’s better to just graciously accept the compliment than try to split hairs.

“I have a guy I could set you up with,” Carrie says.

“Not now. Maybe... Next year?” I say, raising my brows hopefully. It seems a little far-fetched that I could actually put her off that long, but I feel like it’s going to take me that long to catch up on all my bills so that I don’t have to sit across from dinner with some dude who’s going to be asking me about my plans in life, while I’m trying to figure out if I have enough money in my bank account to buy beans and rice so I don’t starve for the next week.

“No wonder you’re not married if that’s the way you put things off,” Miss Phyllis says.

“Where’s your parakeet?” I asked, knowing that they had had someone watching it for a while, and it was back, for maybe less than a day, now it’s gone again. Anything to change the subject. I do not want to talk about all the reasons I’m not married with these ladies.

“We have someone taking care of it for a bit.”

I wonder if it’s my neighbor. I’ve heard a strange voice in his apartment for the last few days, and I kind of assumed that he had a girlfriend with a weird frog in her throat or something. But...maybe not.

I haven’t seen my neighbor. He works odd hours. He’s hardly ever around, which is really great for me.

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