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Chapter Ten
Washis entire house really full of carcinogens? Looking around the two rooms that were complete disasters, he wondered if Agatha was right that his house would kill him one day. Now or in the future.
He wondered if she would be willing to help him fix the house since he wasn’t doing so great at it. Then he could spend his days watching her ass as she sashayed around, being an expert on everything. Today’s green shirt said “Hlltam Hoob” in bright pink. Her black hair had been the same as it was almost twelve hours before, just a bit messier.
When his lights had gone out, and he had seen that hers were on, he went over to borrow a flashlight—another item to add to his list of things needed for the house. That list was so long. Not that he had thought she would actually answer the door because it was two in the morning, and he was practically a stranger.
Once she had opened the door, he had learned something completely new about the woman. Agatha was small, smaller than he had thought she was sitting on her front step. She was maybe just over five feet tall, and that was with her orange tennis shoes on. Since he was 6’5”, she was tiny compared to him, tiny and light. He had noticed when he had lifted her off the ladder. He grabbed a few things upstairs and turned off the lights as he left the house. She may be a stranger, but her house wasn’t trying to kill him. Until he got things checked out at his place, he was homeless. Tomorrow he would have to find a place to live for a while. Tonight, he was happy he would be staying across the street even if Agatha didn’t seem exactly happy about the idea. She had offered, and he had taken her up on it. Not only was he getting a place to stay, but he would get to spend time with her.
When Chris made it to Agatha’s door, he wondered if he should knock. She had invited him, but did that mean he should just barge in? He decided it must, so he walked into her brightly lit house. He had noticed the comfortable furniture before when she got the flashlights. There were two couches and a loveseat in tan with bright colored throw pillows, which contrasted with the walls that were a bright yellow, and the ceiling was even brighter yellow.
Chris didn’t see Agatha, but he could hear her upstairs, so he headed up to find her. On the top floor, he realized that her house must be bigger than his because there were eight bedroom doors visible. Hearing her in one at the far end of the hall, he followed the noise and found her throwing a light blue comforter on the top of the bed, which matched the paler blue of the walls. Leaning against the door, he watched her. He could tell she had not been ready for company.
“Sorry to put you out like this. I could get a hotel for the night.” He stood, holding his stuff, hoping she didn’t send him away.
“No, I just have to change the sheets. I don’t remember who was the last in here or even when.” She tossed a pillow back on the bed that she had put on the dresser.
“So long ago?” he asked.
“Not too long. Maybe a few months. But who was it and why?” She bit her lip as she thought about it.
“Best to change the sheets then.” He grinned.
“Oh yeah, sheets needed to be changed,” she said, not looking at him.
Chris walked in and set his stuff on the dresser. “Whose room was it?”
“Mabel, but she moved in with her boyfriend—sorry, husband now, Cliff.”
“Mabel and Cliff? Was he a soldier fighting in the great war?” he teased.
She laughed at his joke. “I wish. His name is Clifton Scott V. Yes, those Scotts, and she had shit parents.”
“I don’t recall any Scotts,” he said, racking his brain for who they could be. Probably someone important. His dad probably knew them.
“Old money. I’m sure you heard about the new library. They’re putting up half the money.” She shrugged as she stuffed the pillow into a case.
He let out a whistle. “Mabel married well.”
“Cliff married well. He got Maby.” She turned to him. “Bathroom is down the hallway, and sleep as late as you want.”
“See you at the bathroom, roomie.” He watched her walk out the door.
“Nope, I have my own,” she said as she left. He followed to see what door she went in. It was one closest to the stairs and farthest from his bedroom. He wondered if that was why she had chosen this room for him.
Looking around him, he saw no cracked or falling plaster. Everything looked neat and tidy and lived in. Even though the house was basically empty, it was still clean and tidy.
Chris probably spent too long in the working shower, but he was just glad he didn’t wreck anything while he was in there. The room was well-organized and stocked with anything imaginable one might need. Or anything if you were a woman, because there was nothing but girly stuff everywhere. Since it was there, he used the body wash and shampoo and ended up smelling like a field of flowers. Like Agatha.
After crawling into bed, he wondered about the woman of the house. Tonight, she had been less prickly than she had been before. At first, he didn’t think she would give him a flashlight, much less a bed, though he had to admit he would rather be in her bed for the night.
