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She bit her lip nervously as she turned to the door and started unlocking it. “I should warn you about a few things. I don’t want you to be shocked.”
“Okay,” he said, drawing out the word.
She turned the key and then waited. “I may look put together at work, but I allow my home life to be a bit of a mess. My injured hand hasn’t helped much either. But that’s just an excuse. I really am okay with mess. And I have a bird.” She spoke so quickly that she was sure he was ready to run home, poop smell and everything.
“Do you clean up after your bird?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Luckily, she had started that habit years ago. “And I clean ten minutes a day, so it should be fine.”
The poor guy looked so scared that she laughed. “If it’s not comfortable enough, I won’t feel bad if you find a hotel out of town. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
He shook his head. “I’d have to drive pretty far away. In that case, going to Grandpa’s house would be better. But I’m sure it’ll be fine for one night. A hotel room will be open tomorrow, and if insurance approves it, I’ll be out of your hair.”
“All right then.” She blew out a slow breath. “Keep expectations low.”
Looking ready to fall apart any minute, he gave a curt nod and grabbed two of the suitcases. Hopefully, the look of her place wouldn’t completely keel him over.
She pushed the door open, but was stopped by the jacket she’d thrown in front of the door.
“Ah, sorry.” She hurried to pick it up and hang it on the wall rack already weighed down by jackets that didn’t fit in her closet.
She did a quick scan of the house and sighed. Her ten minutes from the previous night had at least been enough to clean the front room. She turned and watched for Jason’s reaction, but he was in survival mode. “The bathroom, please.”
“Let me just run in there really quick.” She left him at the door and ran ten steps down the hallway to the bathroom. Her cheeks burned as she looked at her pajamas on the floor, the ring of hair in the drain and the toothpaste in the sink. She grabbed a towel and used it to wipe out the sink. Then she cleaned the drain and buried the small stack of hair in the depths of an overfilled trash can. “Crap,” she muttered to herself.
Her hand throbbed as she grabbed the clothes and towel, gave the bathroom another look, and shrugged. If she hadn’t already scared him away, there was at least hope he would look past this weakness.
She dropped the clothes in a hamper in her bedroom and closed the door. It was the danger zone she hoped he’d never see.
“Okay,” she called, closing the spare bedroom’s door on her way back down the hall. When he was in the shower, she was going to blitz-clean that first. There had to be some space left in her bedroom where she could shove some more things.
His expression was blank as he carried a bag with him to the bathroom.
“There are towels in the drawer, maybe.”
“It’s fine,” he barely whispered. “I’ve got my own.”
She sighed in relief. “Right. Okay, well, take your time. Please.”
As soon as she heard the water turn on, she went into demolition mode, picking up whatever didn’t belong and either putting it away or shoving it somewhere else. She took her bird and placed the cage in the only empty spot in the front room. She fed him, then covered the cage to keep him quiet. Her closets were stuffed to the brim with craft projects she had never finished and playground equipment she could use but hadn’t yet found a fit for within one of her lessons. Somehow, she squeezed in more. The spare bedroom was another story. Bags of clothes that didn’t fit in her closet were all over the floor, and although the bed was made and somewhat clean, clearing it off was another matter.
She grabbed armfuls of clothes and plopped them on her bed, prepared to sleep on the couch if needed. When that was done, she pulled out the vacuum, ran it over the ratty carpet she had been meaning to replace, and then straightened things on the bookshelf. The room was full of high school pictures, memorabilia, and dried flowers from prom dates. Despite her parents' inability to see the good in her, guys in high school liked energetic girls, and she’d had her fair share of dating experiences, good and bad.
When she was satisfied the room was decent enough, she placed his things on the bed and closed the door. The water was still running, so she headed to the kitchen and blazed through a sink full of dishes, finally cleaned the jam stains off the counter, and ran a broom over the floor. When she heard the bathroom door creak open, she was exhausted and her hand was on fire, but the kitchen looked clean enough. The counters were packed with dishes that didn’t fit in the cupboard and baking supplies she used often enough that she didn’t want to put them away. She needed to stop taking free things others gave her. She opened her fridge and pulled together a quick spaghetti dinner as he settled into the spare room.
When he didn’t come out by the time she was ready to eat, she went to his room and knocked softly. “I made some spaghetti. Are you hungry?”
She leaned her ear against the door, but all she heard was mumbling. She cracked the door open as quietly as possible, but the door always stuck, and she practically had to push it open with her hip.
The light was off, and there was a lump in the middle of the bed where his blanket was. She scanned the room and then turned around. Had he gone back to the bathroom?
“Jason?”
“I’m here,” he said softly.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
