* In Regret Me Not there’s a part where Hal’s condo had the power turned off and he went in to clean the place up. He comes back a few hours later and Pierce is concerned that his hands feel like ice. An early reader suggested that this was hyperbole because, after all, how cold would it be inside that house? Fifty, maybe sixty degrees?
I stetted. I wouldn’t want to work in an apartment that was less than sixty degrees, so the part stayed in.
After a couple of days of trying to get something accomplished in a house that’s fifty degrees–maybe fifty-five at the most, I would like to gently inform that reader that I win, Hal’s hands would be like ice, and I’m right and they’re wrong and full-on gloating WILL commence, as soon as my core temperature returns to normal.
Two days at the most.
* Mate’s Aunt Sis asked me if I wanted to keep the pictures of “the dead relatives”.
I responded, “No, because when I was alone in that damned house and everything creaked and it was all haunted and it was freezing and Mate was gone six nights a week and I was stuck with two babies and no car and Big T couldn’t talk and Chicken had a heart murmur and the house was never clean enough, those assholes were JUDGING ME for being a failure as a mother and I HATE THEM.”
I finished, breathing a little hard because my blood was up, which was great because I was freezing and it helped, and she looked a little taken aback.
“Well, okay then. Carl and I will take them if you don’t want them.”
“That would be fine,” I said meekly.
Some wounds don’t heal. Now I know.
