His hand lands on my thigh, just over my knee. I glance at him. Etna’s already watching me. For just a second, it’s just us as we stare at each other.
This is fine. Whatever we decide, nothing will break us. We’re best friends. We will endure even this.
I bow my head, feeling foolish for the flush I can feel on my cheeks and my awkwardly shy smile. Fuck’s sake.
CHAPTER 7
ETNA
We finally get homeon December eighth, and I’m so damn thankful I could kiss the Arizona desert sand. The constant flying back and forth between hot and cold was hell on my sinuses. Even with the supplements I take to boost my immune system. Fortunately, I’ve been doing this for a few years and my body has mostly figured it out. Still sucks at the time, though.
Keno and I divide and conquer the immediate chores as soon as we walk into his house. I take the suitcases and garment bags, and he takes the gear bags. Time for a good soaking, and not gonna lie, but he does it best. That man is anal about clean gear, so sign me up for that.
We did laundry on the road a couple times via the hotels we stayed in, and we’re pretty good about keeping clean clothes in one suitcase and using the other for dirty once we get to a point where that makes sense in our laundry cycles. We managed to time it right that we were going to need to do laundry again in the next couple of days.
It’s not often we travel for an entire month. I can count on one hand how often it’s happened to me. Fifteen or so days is usually the limit. We traveled for two weeks at the start of this season, stayed home for a week, and then traveled for a month.Luckily, our longest away streak coming up is only for a week. Otherwise, it’s one to three day trips here and there.
Once I have the washer started, I turn in the small area as best I can and open the steam closet, where I begin loading in half of our suits that can’t be run through the washing machine. Keno saw mine when he was traded to Arizona and immediately bought one, too. The only problem is his laundry room is a fraction the size of mine. We’re talking barely bigger than a linen closet.
Which makes perfect sense. I don’t think this house was truly meant to be a full-time residence. It’s not built like one. It’s a vacation house on the lake for a small family.
With laundry done, I decide I’ll tackle the kitchen. We didn’t leave it messy, but we also didn’t throw out what we should have before leaving. There’s a basket of rotted gooey fruit-turned-sludge on the counter surrounded by fruit flies.
Cringing and holding my breath, I drag the trash bin from under the sink and slide the entire basket off the counter into the trash. Then I cover the counter with disinfectant, and spray the air, trying to poison the flies in toxic death. I let the spray sit unnecessarily while I brave opening the fridge. It isn’t too bad, but why would we have saved the milk? Ew.
Then there’s a glass containerfilledwith fuzzy mold. Both go straight into the trash. I throw out slimy lunch meat, squishy vegetables, and something unidentifiable in a grocery bag. One last examination of the kitchen and I pull out the garbage bag to toss into the bin outside. That thing isn’t waiting until it’s full. Gross.
With another trash bag in the can and a wipe down of the newly disinfected counter, I pull up our grocery shopping app and start filling the cart with fresh shit. With thirty-six items and $214 in my cart, Keno joins me in the small kitchen.
“Where’s the fruit basket?” he asks, looking at the counter as he opens the fridge.
“In the trash. As is the glass food storage container from the fridge. They were disgusting.”
He chuckles. “Both are washable, believe it or not.”
“Their smell alone will never leave my nostrils. I’m good.”
Keno shakes his head. “You ordering food?”
“I am. Any requests?”
“Nope. I imagine we’ll probably put in two orders this week since we’ve already forgotten where we were in our cycles of shit. You get the list on the fridge?”
I nod then hand him my phone. “Here. See if I missed anything or if you want something I didn’t think of.”
While he’s busy with my phone, I open the tiny-ass pantry to take inventory. It’s so small that if we’re out of something, it’s glaringly obvious because there will be a hole in our puzzle. Everything looks filled, so I open the overhead cabinets on either side of the stove where we also keep things like spices, baking shit, and pasta. Still no holes.
Turning back to Keno, he’s watching me. “What?”
There’s an indiscernible expression on his face. He shakes his head. “Nothing. I just placed the order. It’ll be here in a couple hours.”
“Cool. Enough time to put on clean bedding, dump the towels in the wash too, and take showers and shit,” I say, and head for the bedrooms.
Keno catches me on the way by, grabbing my arm to stop me in my tracks. There’s that look again. “Okay, so… let’s get married.”
I’m a little surprised at the way my breath whooshes out of me and my heart gives a little patter. “Yeah?”
He nods, all serious and nervous.
