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“Do you want me to bring you a plate?”
“Thanks, but I doubt I’d be able to swallow anything at this point. Do you mind if we talk tomorrow?”
“Yeah, of course. If you need anything, just text me.”
“Thanks. Sorry. I just need to sleep, and I’ll be better.”
She backed out of the room. “It’s fine, Jason. Goodnight.”
She sighed and headed back to the kitchen to eat the rest of her dinner alone. After a few minutes, she scraped off her dish and threw it in the dishwasher.
Then she cleaned up her dinner mess and headed to the bathroom to clean herself up. It was surreal to have Jason so close but so far away. She had imagined what it would be like to spend time with him away from work and dog-walking responsibilities, but this was not what she’d hoped for.
11
Jason
Jason’s alarm rang at six o’clock, just as it always did. But unlike other nights, Jason hadn’t slept a wink. He’d been awake as Hannah had moved around her house the night before, cleaning and getting ready for bed. When she woke up, he heard her in the kitchen making breakfast, shushing her bird every time it squawked, and then closing the front door.
Only then had he closed his eyes and slept a total of thirty-four minutes. He sighed and pulled himself from bed. He’d have to fit in a nap sometime within the day, maybe when he checked into the hotel. For now, there was work to do.
Rueben gave him the day off when he explained the situation. When his grandpa finally announced his retirement, Jason wouldn’t have as much leeway. The other tasks on his list would take more time and more energy.
With the sewage smell still in his memory, he dragged himself to the kitchen to see what he could force himself to eat. With the small townhouse lit up with sunshine, he noticed more of Hannah’s eclectic nature. The sink was full of breakfast dishes and every bit of the counter was full of baking supplies, craft supplies, and... a jump rope. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
He turned and saw a table behind him. Thankfully, it was clean and there was a plate of something covered with plastic wrap with a little note and a key to the house.
He turned the note over and read it.
Thought a little comfort food would start your day off right. We’ll get through this. I’ll be back after my two jobs are done. Make yourself at home.
PS— I made all the citrus-flavored macarons I had ingredients for. Hope you like them.
He lifted the little note and stared at the plate of lemon, lime, and orange macarons.
Despite the mess he was in, he smiled and tried one of the orange-flavored cookies.
“Oh, that’s good,” he moaned, stuffing the rest of the cookie into his mouth. There was a dozen more, and before he could second-guess himself, he sat down and ate them all for breakfast.
Even though it didn’t solve any problem but his hunger, he was satisfied enough to do the hard things—make calls, go back to his house and take pictures, and meet the disaster-cleanup company.
After a long shower, he dressed and walked home.
The cleanup company showed up at eight and started right away. Just as he ordered to have happen, the house was attacked by an army of men. Some tore up the carpet, others cut the drywall up to the sewage line and everything was brought out to his lawn so he could take pictures. When he had done his part, they gave him an estimated completion date, and he headed back to Hannah’s to wait it out.
He tried to take a nap, but his mind buzzed with what still needed to happen next in his unexpected renovation. He paced around the house, making a mental checklist of all he needed to do. Or he tried. The clutter was more than distracting. His mind had blocked it out the night before, not caring about much except a place to hide. But now... it was a mess. So many things on the counter. He opened the cabinets, and everything was just thrown in. There was plenty of space, it just needed to be organized. He opened the fridge and sighed. How had she lived like this for so long? He would’ve gone crazy, and he would go crazy. Before he left, he was going to do his part to help out. Organization was his superpower.
If he couldn’t fix one problem, he’d fix another. He started on the biggest cabinet and worked his way through the kitchen, organizing it how he would have at home. He decluttered the counters once there was space in the cabinets, then wiped down surfaces. He unloaded the dishwasher, loaded it again, and started it.
He saw Hannah’s personality everywhere he cleaned, and it successfully calmed him. He imagined her baking cookies, spilling flour here and there, and not even bothering to stop to clean. She was a bit one-track-minded. He thought about how she’d somehow kept her desk clean at work, but when he had opened her drawer to find a stapler in a hurry, he’d been shocked with how disorganized it was. She had basically swept everything on top of her desk into a drawer to keep the top clean. It hadn’t bothered him at the time, but he now realized that method was her cleaning tactic. Hide messes, shove things into a drawer, and leave out what she needed most.
He took breaks to check the progress on his house, and was amazed to see how quickly the crews worked. When their huge vacs had sucked out all the mess, they power washed the floors and walls with cleanser. When they finished their part, the cleanup company threw his ruined things into a big dumpster and hauled everything away.
His insurance company assured him they were on his case. Those things would take time, and meanwhile, he had central air and heating to replace, construction bids to get, and cleanup to do. He could only imagine the mess the water left behind.
When the insurmountable things he needed to do made him too anxious, he returned to Hannah’s to clean some more.
Just as he opened the fridge a few hours later, to assess the damage, the front door opened.
