At least just now, but he stepped into some sticky substance on the kitchen tile. No clue what it might have been or when it happened.
When he returned from bringing the trash bag outside, his eyes took in the kitchen. Shit. Not much better.
Every room he went in was worse than the one before.
His hands were up as if he couldn’t control the chaos and didn’t know where to start.
It didn’t seem to matter when there was a knock at the door.
Fuck.
He jogged to the door and pulled it open. There was Natalie with two bags in her hand.
All neat and organized. One for tonight and another for their trip to Boston.
Why did it bother him to see that?
Because the minute she walked in the door she noticed his living room. “Have you been sleeping in here?”
He rushed toward the sectional and picked up the three blankets that were haphazardly lying everywhere. One even on the floor.
“Sometimes I get some work done here while watching TV.”
“And you’re cold?” she asked. “It’s been beautiful for days.”
“The mornings are chilly and I’m in shorts and a T-shirt.”
He picked them up in haste; she moved closer and grabbed the one on the floor to fold and put it over the back.
The ugly wicker and glass coffee table had an empty bag of chips, some crumbs and grease smudges. He snatched that up quickly.
She lifted the two empty glasses he’d left behind and followed him into the kitchen.
“Oh my God,” she said. Her hands were up and she walked back out of the kitchen as if he were holding a gun to her chest. “Did you have guests?”
“No,” he said. “Just haven’t really cleaned up.”
“Since I’ve been here?” she asked. Her wide eyes showed her disgust. Not much he could do about it.
“I’m kind of out of practice. I haven’t done it in a while.”
“I know what we are doing tonight.”
“No,” he said. “I’ll take care of it later.”
Her head was shaking rapidly, her shoulders twitching, and she even gagged twice. “I can’t. This is too much. Arik, how do you live in this? Or eat in here?”
“I need a cleaning person. I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to clean up right after you make something to eat? Or throw out something that’s empty? I thought you weren’t going to get into that situation again.”
“I’m not,” he said, pulling her out of the kitchen. If she gagged again he was going to feel even more like a dick. “The truth is out. I’m a slob.”
“Yes, you are. You’ve hidden behind housekeepers. I noticed some of it before at the hotel, but didn’t expect this. Were you like this at your grandmother’s house? Please don’t tell me she picked up after you.”
“I’m not that much of a jerk,” he said. “She has cleaners.”
Natalie laughed, looked around his living room where he’d made her sit on the couch, her eyes landing on the cookie crumbs nearby her stuck to the upholstery.
