Reaching my hand out, I let him direct me, and stop when he says, “Right there.”
I lift the first item my hand lands on and move to the next when he confirms it’s not the one. I’m about to push on the second one until he says, “Wait. I think that’s it. Lift it all the way out.”
I slowly work my hands to the top of the metal hanger and lift it away from everything else, keeping my phone up in front of it as best I can.
“White Adidas logo in the top center and the strings look like they get chewed on a lot.”
I nod, not even sure I’m in view anymore, and close the closet door. “What can I say . . . I’m a nervous chewer. Everything but my nails, since that’s apparently where I draw the line.”
“Sounds like I should be scared to see your pencils.”
“Probably. I haven’t written anything by hand in a long time, though, except scribbling crooked signatures with a pen, so they’ve all been given a break.”
“There’s a bright side to everything, they say.”
“Who’s they?” I arch a brow, sliding the phone more to the left.
“Who the hell knows.”
I bark out a laugh. “Hmm . . . well, let me know when you figure it out.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Can I help you with anything else?”
“Um . . .” My face dips to where my feet are, and I knock them together, unable to sort out the designs on my colorful socks. It’s like a rainbow throwing up in front of me. “I’m not sure where my boyfriend set my shoes. He took them off when I fell asleep on the couch wearing them. I did it so I could wake up in the morning and water the plants without bothering him.”
“Did you not water those plants? Or did you just go out there in those cute socks?”
My face flushes. “I . . . he’d watered them for me already by the time I finally got up. Said things get done faster that way and he had too much to do today.”
“Hmm. Well, you have me. You can call me again if you need to, and we can make him realize that you’re perfectly capable of doing everything you used to do, so there’s no need for him toworry about how slowly you need to do something the first time or two.”
Why does the “you have me,” part stick out to me the most? I don’t know this guy, and he’s doing nothing more than the job he’s volunteering to do. “Thanks.”
“Where do you think he would have put your shoes? Same closet perhaps?”
“Yeah. On the shoe rack. He’s all about being tidy and organized. I was never the best at it, so now that we live together—”
“Nothing is in the same place it was before the life-changing event.”
“Exactly. It was a bad car accident.”
“Yeah, it’s all on your profile. I try to read them before accepting the job so I know more about who I’m helping.”
Travis must have added all my details. “Makes sense. Okay, so those shoes, they’re navy blue sneakers.”
“Do you have several pairs of those too?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” I make a face. “You may think I’m weird for this . . . but . . .” My words shake. “I have outside and inside shoes. Shoes for walking and exercising in.”
“That’s not weird. I do the same. I won’t dare wear my outside clothes to bed.”
“Really?” My voice goes higher. “Me either. Even though these days my outside clothes resemble my indoor ones. I mismatch my pajamas on purpose, but I can’t say the same for the others.”
His laughter is gentle on my ears and a kind of sound I could see myself never getting tired of. “Yeah, so if you’re weird, then I’m weird. But I might just be weird anyway, and for other reasons.”
“Like?” Not sure why I’m so curious to hear him talk about himself, but I am. Maybe because he makes me feel like nothing has changed. Like I’m the same person I was before.
“I sometimes sleepwalk. It’s worse during more stressful times and when I don’t get much sleep.”
