We head to the kitchen. I take over heating our dinner while Carter perches on one of the barstools and he and Susa talk more politics. They don’t cut me out of the conversation, but honestly, I’m having fun just listening to the two of them. Since I’m only reheating stuff and putting together a salad, I don’t really need to focus on what I’m doing like I did last night.
Before we sit down to eat, I transfer the first load of clothes from the washer to the dryer and start a second load. It feels very…domestic. Despite Susa’s obvious money, she doesn’t come off as pretentious, and neither does her house, despite how much it’s obviously worth.
“Can I ask you something?” I say to her as we sit down to eat in the dining room.
“Sure.”
“If you’re rich, why is this all the furniture you have?”
She smirks. “I’m cheap. I don’t need anything else right now. And it’s just me. I’ll add stuff here and there as time goes on. But the other thing is after law school, I might not even be living here.”
“Oh.” A sad pang hits me at that thought. “Where would you move?”
“I meant I might not be living here-here, inthishouse. I might buy something else in the Tampa area. Maybe a condo or something without any outside maintenance to worry about. Eventually, I’ll need a place of my own up in Tallahassee, I’m sure. A townhouse or something.”
Her smile widens, and I don’t miss how she glances Carter’s way. “Unless we’re actually doing what we talked about last night,” she adds. “That would definitely give me a reason to stick around this area.”
“I was completely serious about that.” Carter glances at her. “Get him elected, then get you elected.”
My heart nearly seizes at that thought. They’vegotto be fucking with me.
As if they can hear my thoughts, both of them turn and look at me.
“What?” I shove a bite of moussaka into my mouth.
Carter smirks. “He’s adorable, isn’t he?”
She answers with a winning smile that exposes dimple. “Completely adorable.”
My face heats, and now my pulse is racing.
Adorable.
She calledmeadorable!
After dinner, I again volunteer to clean up the kitchen while they talk. I honestly don’t mind, because I like listening to them. Once dinner is finished, I hear a buzzer go off on the dryer. I swap loads again and bring the basket of clean clothes into the living room to fold while we talk. Carter talks me through it, and before long, I have a perfectly folded basket of laundry. I still sit there on the floor, caught up in their discussion about gerrymandering of districts and how the current GOP stranglehold is about to be broken once again, thanks to a court ruling that will take effect in two weeks, barring they redraw the districts in less obviously blatant ways.
This has been the best time I’ve had in…forever.
I don’t want it to end.
Don’t take any of this wrong—I was happy to help out in the kitchen and by doing Carter’s laundry. For the first time in my life, literally, I felt like I belonged.
Like they genuinely enjoyed my presence. When I worked up the nerve to ask questions, Susa was usually the one to clarify and explain things, in a kind and friendly way.
I wasn’t made to feel stupid.
Not a hint of condescension in her tone or in Carter’s.
What doesn’t hit me until much later is that tonight firmly guides me on the journey to what I have now become.
* * * *
Susa and Carter seem to enjoy teaching me how to cook. We’re there literally every night, and all day Saturday and Sunday, once Sunday Mornings With Carter have wrapped up. We spend that time eating, talking, sometimes quietly studying, or just chilling out watching TV and movies, or enjoying her pool. Two weeks into whatever this is, Carter hands me the keys to the Snot Box Tuesday morning after returning from our shortened and very slow walk. His pain levels today are off-the-charts by my best guess, based on his stiff movements, discernible limp,and pained expression.
“Can you go pick up Susa, please?”
A nervous flutter churns my guts, anxiety and anticipation vying for control. “I thought you were going to drive her today?”
