Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
This is my moment, and I lick my suddenly dry lips. I’ve been thinking about this all morning, but I want to get it right. I don’t want to say the wrong thing to Bronco. “Last night, you mentioned a fundraiser, using Valor Ranch. Is that…is that still on the table?”
He doesn’t even glance up. “For you, anything.”
No, little heart do not fill with happiness. That’s how you end up broken. “So, then I can put it online as a petting zoo?”
“I don’t care.” He pauses in his evaluation. “Don’t put your name and location out there or anything crazy. Stranger danger applies to the internet. Or so I’ve been told. All sorts of scary things happen to pretty girls like you online.”
He called me pretty!
I fight not to roll my eyes since I run the entire server for the retirement home. Not just the website, but the actual server and the portal software. I’m kind of a bad ass behind a keyboard though no one knows that. It’s the way I prefer it. “I know about online safety.”
“And don’t give anyone your passwords. Or use password for your password. I’ve heard that’s a bad idea too.”
Okay, I finally roll my eyes. “But I was just planning to publish them on this new forum I found called, Safety Tips from My Elderly Relative.”
He looks up at me, frustration evident on his face. “Online safety isn’t a joke.”
I wonder how long it’s been since he was on the internet, remembering now that he’s been deployed all over the world. Sometimes, in places without access to any technology. He told me once that he can make a radio transmitter with just a nail and a tin can.
“I will be super careful, promise,” I answer. Heck, maybe I do need the reminder after what happened to Aunt Elaine. Although, in all fairness, the guy did check out. Everything he said, I was able to verify—where he lived and who he was. I just didn’t realize until it was too late that he was using filters on the video calls to change his appearance.
“That’s all I ask,” he says.
I leave him to his work and return to my desk in the reception area. In between helping residents, I start my research on the best way to offer the petting zoo. It’s an offline experience, but I’m hoping I can get the word out, so people beyond the borders of Courage County show up.
After a few hours of research, I settle on building my own website for the petting zoo. It’s the best solution since some of the fundraising platforms have high fees. I get that they have to make money, but that means not every dollar goes to the families and communities in need, a fact that isn’t always disclosed to donors.
Once I’m done with the website, I link it to the right platforms and ask a few online friends to share it on their circles. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Maybe it’ll get the wheels turning. After all, sometimes what’s needed is a little push. I can only hope this is the little push the retirement community needs.
“Ooh, my favorite red,” I murmur when Bree, my best friend, opens her fridge and produces a wine bottle she’s had chilling.
She grabs a couple of wine glasses, pausing to shoo away Max and Rex who showed up the moment they heard her opening cabinets. The dogs are her husband’s German Shepherds. Dalton had them before he met her, but those two are increasingly more loyal to her than they are him. I can’t blame them for liking Bree better. She’s not nearly as grumpy, and she always gives them treats.
“No, your dad said I can’t possibly give you anymore. He’s concerned that I’m spoiling you boys.”
One of them—I think his name is Max—tilts his head and lets out a little whine.
“OK, but just the one,” she says and puts the glasses on the table. She turns back to the cabinet and produces a box of dog treats. They’re the good kind that come from one of those brands that believes in making healthy pet food.
She tosses them each a treat which they quickly devour. She settles at the table across from me and pours us each a generous glass of wine while the dogs circle before resting at her feet. She pops a cookie from Courage Cookies into her mouth and moans. “So good. I can’t believe Haley makes these fresh every day.”
“She’s really good at what she does. Now, tell me. How is married life?” I gesture around the cabin. Bree moved to Courage County recently to become the nurse practitioner at Wildflower Community Center. But she fell in love with Dalton, the gardener, after he started writing her romantic love letters. They got married pretty fast, and she’s already moved into his place. Well, I guess it’s theirs now. It sure is homey with the little throw pillows on the front porch, and the soft quilt on the couch.