An Hour's Work, New Novel 1.0

No title yet, just a little writing. I got a couple of ideas while I was writing (I guess that's how it works when you don't use an outline) and I hope they take me somewhere. I wrote for an hour, as the title of this entry may suggest and have no idea how many words. I don't have a word count on this computer (I'm forced to use Word Pad instead of the preferred Microsoft Word only because it isn't on this computer) and I'm not going to count each word individually. It's not the word count that counts for this, just that I write a lot and every day. So here it is.
Warning, this sucks so far, but whatever.

1.0

Amanda sat in the kitchen, the back door open to the cold of winter outside. The heater was working overtime but she didn't care. Leo was gone, that was all that mattered. He was all that mattered.
Two years ago, when he had asked, she had turned him down, explaining she had better things in life to do than to be married to a gossip magazine's photographer. He was good, she remembered. Both with photos and with her.
"It's not like he's dead, Amanda. Stop acting like he died. He lives three houses down. Just go see him," Rylee urged. She stood to close the door. "And stop leaving the door open. The pipes are gonna burst."
"You didn't know how bad it was, Rylee. I told him I didn't love him. If you'd seen the look on his face, you'd be just as sad."
"Wait a minute. You broke up with him?"
Amanda nodded solemnly.
"Then what the hell are you moping for?"
"I don't know. A week ago it seemed like a good idea - the only idea. I guess I just didn't know how much I needed him."
Rylee sighed. "Well you really messed up didn't you?"
"I guess."
"I don't know what you can do, I really don't. Maybe ask him to get back together with you. Would that work?" Rylee offered.
"No, he'd never take me. I rejected him twice. The first time he bounced back pretty well-"
"You mean when you said you wouldn't marry him?"
"Yes," Amanda growled. "But when we met up again at Christmas, he seemed so happy to see me. It was like it was meant to be."
"But you're the one who broke up with him."
"I'm aware."
"So you're just going to wait around until he comes crawling back? Or are you just waiting for Christmas or another national holiday to 'accidentally' bump into him at the grocery store?"
Amanda didn't answer. She watched a tiny fruit fly walking the perimeter of her cereal bowl.
"Sorry. That was harsh. But you need to move on."
"It's only been a week."
"Time's not gonna go any faster when you're sad. Here, help me with these boxes. I need to get them to my mom's house before she leaves."
Watching her friend leave for the garage, Amanda dressed herself in proper outerwear complete with mittens and a toque. She picked up a box and followed the deep impressions in the now to the open door of the garage. She found Rylee leaning in the trunk, moving things here and there to make room for the last box.

Rylee, seeing her friend's condition, knew she couldn't leave her alone. She invited her up to her parents' house for the night (as it would be dark before she got back if she chose to drive back, but both knew she wouldn't) and Amanda accepted with no expression.
"So what's in all the boxes?" Amanda asked, turning to face the objects she inquired about.
"Just some things my mom asked me to make. Doilies and mittens and scarves. My mom and dad go to craft fairs all over the province trying to sell off my handiwork. There are a couple of places that actually buy."
"So you spent, what, all winter making things for people to wear in the winter, but as soon as the first spring thaw comes, you sell them?"
"No, not usually. It just happened like that this year. Last year I worked all summer and fall to make a thousand scarves and pairs of gloves - do you believe it, a thousand! - and they sold pretty fast. This year I was busy all summer. Remember?"
"Yes, I remember you and your summer romance in Europe."
"You say that like it's so bad."
"Well you didn't even invite me," Amanda said sulkily.
Her friend smiled. "I can't help it if they only took one person. You put your name in there more times than I did."
"Not that it did anything. As far as I know, you seduced the Dean to let you go."
"I don't think the dean had any say in who got to go on the summer exchange program. Besides, I'm sure he had more important things to do."
"Sure, sure. Lie all you want. Everyone knows what happened," Amanda said, smiling.
As their laughter subsided, Rylee acknowledged her friend's new state. "See, things get better."
They drove on for an hour, until the sun had started its long descent into the horizon.

The town of Willows was old, as were many of the inhabitants. The entire place reeked of something long forgotten and Amanda loved it. She had grown up in the city where drugs flowed as easily as water from the dirty pipes of her shower. She loved this old place and everything in it.
Willows was the place that the McKinneys lived. Rylee's parents, Darius and Helena had lived there with their only daughter for eighteen years, and before Rylee was born, they had lived there six more. The home they had built was strong, a foundation upon which, Helena hoped, there would be more little McKinneys (if Rylee would keep her name, if Rylee ever got married).
When Rylee's car arrived, her mother was standing on the porch. She quickly put out a cigarette where the hand rail and the porch beam met, where other cigarette butts had met their end. She waved to her daughter and her daughter waved back.
"So you finally get to meet my folks. Nervous?" Rylee asked, unbuckling.
True, the two had been friends for nearly five years, but Darius and Helena had only heard about this girl 'Amanda'. Amanda had seen pictures and felt as though she knew them, had grown up with them.
"You must be Amanda," Helena said, taking her hand. Amanda could smell the smoke on her but it was pleasant. It suited her.
"I am."
"Oh, is that Rylee?" a male voice called from inside the house. They could hear him walking to the door, his black rubber boots stomping as he moved. "Hey, it is! And who is this?"
"I'm Amanda."
"Oh, the infamous Amanda."
She smiled, trying to hide that she was uncomfortable. Seeing this, Rylee stepped in.
"Why don't you guys come help me get these boxes in. Oh, is it alright if Amanda stays the night here? I thought it'd be cool for you all to finally meet."
"Sure, sure. Of course it is." Darius took his daughter's friend by the elbow and led her to the house. "I'll show you Rylee's room. I guess now it's the spare bedroom now."

Up the stairs (impressive, wide, family stairs) and down the hall to the right past pictures of stern faced men and strong faced women. Black and white photos of women sitting, holding their children while their husbands stood behind them lined the walls. It was as if every picture was the same, and Amanda made a note to come back out while everyone else was sleeping to look at them.
"So you don't have anything better to do than stay with an old couple on a Friday night?"
"Yeah. I guess. My social life is kind of messed up right now."
"Hmmm. I might know a few people. Maybe you and Rylee would like to go to the bar and meet up with some of her friends from high school. A lot of them still live in town."
"That sounds cool."
"Great."
Rylee entered. "I hope he's not boring you."
"No, actually," Amanda said, surprised. Maybe this was exactly what she needed. "Your dad-"
"Please, call me Darius," Darius interrupted.
"Okay," Amanda started slowly, hesitant to call somebody's parent by their first name. "Darius was saying there was a bar around here. Maybe some of your friends are still around. I think it'd be pretty cool to meet the people you grew up with."
Rylee's smile faded. "I don't think so. I have a lot of work to do."
Amanda furrowed her brow. "Why not?"
"You're welcome to go on your own, I just have a lot to do. I have to sort all the scarves and mittens into pairs and sets, and there's even more to do after that. I just don't have the time," she said, leaving.
Amanda looked at Darius who looked back. "What's with her?"
"I don't know," she answered.

An hour later, when all the boxes had been carried in and Rylee had been sorting for a while, Amanda felt it was the right time to bring up getting out of the house again.
"Hey, you hungry?" she asked her friend who had been consumed by a pile of crocheted hats and matching gloves.
"Yeah, kind of."
"Let's go get something to eat then."
"Can't we just make something?"
Amanda knelt next to her. She thumbed one of Rylee's scarves and asked, "Why don't you want to see any of your friends?"
"I'm gonna start supper," she answered, alluding the question.
"Please, tell me."
"No. There isn't a reason, so there's nothing to tell."
Rylee exited to the kitchen, leaving Amanda in a room filled with boxes and knitwear.