“I thought about that, too. You have all your equipment, though, eh?”
Penny nodded. “It would be ridiculous to try and transport it all and set it up for one session.”
“But what if you set it up in the garage?” Brett started the blender as if purposefully giving her time to ruminate on that idea.
When the motor stopped, Penny said, “You’d let me do that?”
“I’m not using that space for anything other than storage. We could move everything to one side or stack it against the back wall. I don’t think it would take up more than a third of the space if we organized everything.”
Penny took another bite of oatmeal. “Do you think they’d work with me? Take a chance like that?”
“I was willing to have you move in, so I’m guessing yes.” Brett poured his shake into a tall cup. “Do you want any?”
“If there’s extra, but don’t—”
“There’s extra.” He pulled another cup from the shelf.
Penny took her bowl to the counter and sat on a stool, and Brett passed her the shake. “That would be amazing. Seriously. I could take care of everything in the garage. You wouldn’t need to help.”
Brett scoffed. “I need to go through my crap anyway. It’ll be good.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.” Something like hope bloomed in Penny’s chest. She didn’t have a job, but if she could see private clients? Even a couple of appointments a week would help toward the money she needed to come up with for her parents’ surprise and fill the gap before she got a bite on her applications. “When would you want to do that?”
Brett took a drink of his shake. “Does now work?”
They cleaned up breakfast, and Penny put on some jeans and a T-shirt, then followed Brett out to the back of the house. He wore a hoodie and a pair of shorts with slip-ons. Penny found herself inspecting the musculature of his lower legs and the few inches of visible thigh—for purely professional assessment, of course. He opened the garage door, then limped toward the pile of boxes.
“Don’t lift anything, Brett. Tell me what to move, and I’ll move it.”
Brett exhaled and nodded, then lifted the flaps of one of the boxes that sat on top of the stack. Penny stayed back, not wanting to intrude by peering into his personal stuff.
"Definitely don't need most of this.” Brett reached into the box and pulled out a stack of old comics. “We could wait until Tyler gets here, and he could move—”
“Unless these boxes are full of dumbbells, I’m sure I can manage. Is this one ready?” Penny stepped up next to him. Brett nodded, so she picked it up and moved it out onto the driveway.
They continued through the stack, and Penny was impressed with how organized it was already. Brett had items from his old apartment that he’d held on to in case he had a use for them here. Since he didn’t, Penny moved lamps, two end tables, a painting, an old coffee maker, and an iron to the driveway.
She insisted Brett allow her to look through an old photo album featuring a young Brett with braces and a mullet. On the last page, she found stubs from his first professional hockey game and a note written on pink stationery covered in hearts.
“Who’s Anna?” Penny held up the note, and Brett’s eyes lit up.
“Where did you find that?”
Penny grinned. “It was in the back of this album.”
Brett hobbled over and opened the note. “Anna was the prettiest girl in grade five.”
“She got ugly in grade six?”
Brett chuckled. “No, she moved.” He showed her the note, and Penny read it out loud.
“Want to be partners for Mr. Allen’s science project? Check yes or no. P.S. What shampoo do you use? I love your hair.” Penny snorted. “Wow, Anna had gumption.”
“She couldn’t resist the half mullet.” Brett preened, running his hand through his hair.
“Did you pass along your secrets?”
Brett folded the note and slipped it back in the album. “It was all about the Aussie.”
