The door opens, and one of them stands in the doorway. I can’t remember whether it’s Stack or Finny, they look so similar.
“Hey! Do you need help moving some more things?” he says.
I shake my head. “No, I wanted to thank you all for helping get my stuff over here. Are you Stack or Finny?” I ask, grimacing.
He laughs. “Stack.”
“How did you get that name?” I ask.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s not a great story. I used to stack everything my mom gave me. Blocks, shoes, pasta, everything. We started the nickname, and it stuck.”
I’m smiling at the mental picture clouding my brain of this man as a child with towers of things stacked around the house. “Do you know Burton’s first name?”
He holds both hands out and says, “I value my life too much to divulge that.”
“It can’t be that bad, can it?” I ask, pulling out his drink and treat.
“He thinks it is. Thank you very much. Word to the wise, if you want anyone to know something about you, tell Jessa.”
“I believe it,” I say.
Stack waves for me to come in, and I take exactly two steps inside, enough to close the door but not enough to be standing in the middle of the home. Not that I don’t trust them, I just feel like I’ve got “intruder” stamped on my forehead.
“Let me go get the guys,” Stack says, walking down the hallway.
I glance around, not surprised by the lack of decoration on the walls. There’s a basic setup in the front room with a large couch, coffee table, and television.
To the left is a large dining room table and the kitchen. From the outside of the house, I know it stretches back a ways, so that must be where all their rooms are.
Finny and Clark come out, thanking me for the gifts. Clark talks to me for a moment before headingback to get in the shower.
Now my body is attuned to every other sound in the place, wondering if I should head out and leave the gift for Burton on the table. But then again, I feel like I need to explain the coupon book.
At least three minutes go by when I decide to leave everything but the coupon book on the table. His name is on the soda and candy bar, so hopefully he sees it when he comes out.
The front door opens just as I reach for the handle, causing me to jump back and let out a squeak.
Burton walks in, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.
“Hey,” he says, giving me a smile. “You’re back. How was the trip?”
“Hey,” I say, tucking my hands into the pockets of my pants so I can hide the coupon book. Why would I think a grown man would like something like that? “It was good. I’m glad to be home, though.”
“Sorry, were you leaving?” he asks, stepping inside and holding the door for me.
“Kind of. I thought you were down the hallway, and I brought you something to say thank you for all the help with the car and the apartment and everything.”Wow, flustered much?
Burton laughs a bit and turns to see the drink on the table. “Perfect. I was just thinking about a strawberry lemonade. This is the best ending to tonight.”
I laugh and say, “No Coke or Dr. Pepper?”
He shakes his head. “Naw, my parents wouldn’t let us have any caffeine growing up, and then when I moved out, I went crazy, drinking it every day. I might’ve thrown up, and now I can’t even look at the stuff.”
And there is another tidbit about Burton.
“Well, again, thank you.” I take a step toward the door and pause, trying to decide if I should give him the coupon booklet, like it’s Father’s Day and I’m four years old.
“What’s wrong?” Burton asks. When I turn toward him, he’s twisting the cap on the lemonade bottle.
