Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“All done.” I pass Janelle the cutting board, then go to the sink to wash my hands. When my fingers start to burn under the warm water, I turn up the cold and kind of start to panic, because the burning doesn’t get any better. It actually gets worse.
“What’s wrong?” Janelle asks, and I look at my hands that are turning bright red.
“My hands feel like they’re on fire,” I tell her, and my eyes fly to Daniel when he curses. “What?”
“You didn’t wear gloves.”
“What?”
“The oil from the jalapeños can cause burns. You’re supposed to wear gloves.”
“You didn’t tell me that we were supposed to wear gloves.” Janelle grabs my hands and pulls them up to her face to inspect them.
“Everyone knows that,” he says, and she gives him a look that has him holding up his hands. “Let me get some alcohol.”
“She doesn’t need to get drunk right now. We need to go to the hospital.”
“I’m not giving her alcohol to drink. She needs rubbing alcohol to take the oil from the peppers off her skin.” He sighs.
“Oh.” She nods. “Okay, let’s do that.” Her eyes come to me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie, because she seems more freaked out than I am, and my fricking hands are on fire.
“Here.” Daniel comes back into the kitchen with a small towel and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Hold your hands over the sink.” I do, and he soaks both my palms with the liquid and I rub them together, then he soaks the towel with more alcohol, leaving me to scrub them with it. Some relief comes pretty quickly, which I’m highly thankful for, but under my ring, it’s redder and more irritated than the rest of my hands, so I pull it off and scrub where the metal held the oil against my skin.
“I think you’re going to have to leave that off until the redness goes down,” Janelle tells me, taking the ring from me and placing it on the window ledge. “Do your hands feel any better?”
“They are definitely better than they were.” I look at Daniel. “Thank you.”
“Any time, but girl, I really need to ask if you’ve always been this accident prone. First, the ball to the face, then almost drowning, and now this?” He looks me over. “Maybe we need to dress you in bubble wrap.”
“There does seem to be a pattern.” Janelle sighs.
“Hopefully, nothing else happens.” I smile at the two of them but honestly wonder if this isn’t karma coming back to bite me on the bottom for lying to them and everyone else.
“Why does it smell like a distillery in here?” Janet asks, stepping into the kitchen.
“Penny had a little accident,” Janelle tells her, and she looks at me.
“Another one? What happened now?”
“We didn’t know you’re supposed to wear gloves when you’re cutting up jalapeños,” Janelle answers before I can.
“What do you mean you didn’t know that? Everyone knows that,” she says, and I watch Daniel give a ‘See? I told you so’ look to Janelle.
“Anyway, you woke up late, Mom. Did you sleep okay?” Janelle asks her, and my muscles bunch when her eyes lock on mine.
“I was sleeping fine, then something woke me up around one, and I couldn’t fall back asleep after that.”
Oh my God, my ears start to burn hotter than my hands ever did, and I start to duck my head to get out from under her gaze, but instead, I turn to glare at Haylee when she giggles.
“Sorry.” She pretends to cough when everyone looks at her. “I had a tickle in my throat.”
“What woke you up?” Janelle asks, starting a fresh pot of coffee, since it’s now after twelve and the one from this morning is long gone.
“I don’t know, but it sounded like a dying cat.”
“Oh my God.” Haylee laughs, and I swear I’m half-tempted to run out the door and toss myself over the balcony.
“Really? That’s strange. I haven’t seen any cats around here,” Janelle says while I start washing the dishes like I’m being paid to make sure they are good enough for royalty to eat off of.
“You don’t need to wash the dishes, Penny. They can just go in the dishwasher,” Haylee calls out, and I wonder how I ever thought I could like her, when it’s obvious she’s evil.
“Thanks,” I say, glancing in her direction, and she shoots me a huge grin.
“Any time.” She stands, picking up Dash. “I’m going to take this guy up for a nap.”
“No nap.” Dash tosses his head back and starts to kick. “I’m not tired.”
“Okay, we won’t nap. We’ll just watch Bluey.”
“Okay,” he says happily, wrapping his arms around her neck, and she rolls her eyes.
“What time are we eating chili?” Daniel asks when they leave the kitchen.
“I think everyone agreed on five. The tables are already set up, so we just have to transfer it to the crockpot when it’s done and take it down.”