“I’m taking this bedroom because it has a bigger window.” Doug gestured toward the ugly square window, which had thick bars over it on the outside. The shadows from tree branches overlaid the bars, not allowing for much light.
“It looks like a kidnapper room. Just saying.” Nelson peeked in the tiny closet, which had a bar for hanging clothes, no wider than the length of the door, and a little shelf above.
I glanced behind us at the door, which didn’t quite fit the frame. There was a half-inch space between the carpet and the bottom of the door. I started to swing it shut to see how bad it was, and Doug lunged to stop me. “Don’t close it. The door handles are bad. You’ll lock us all in here.”
Nelson began to laugh and couldn’t stop. “I can’t believe you’re gonna sleep in here.”
“Knock it off.” I flicked Nelson on the arm, but he kept on laughing. “Would you sleep here, Willa?”
I opened the door all the way and leaned on it, looking over at Doug. “Yes. I’d sleep just fine.”
Doug let a small smile slip. He knew I was lying. There was no way I’d sleep here alone. And that was saying a lot, because I enjoyed time alone.
We followed Doug to the laundry room that led out to the two-car garage. From there, we walked around to the backyard through the gate, covered in ivy. Doug had to pull the tendrils back to reach the latch.
“Do you know what this plant is?” Nelson asked, with foreboding in his voice.
“No, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell us,” Doug rubbed his forehead. “Let me guess. Death’s knell? Giant’s wart?”
“Sleep’s demise?” I offered, leaning my head lightly on Doug’s shoulder. I kind of enjoyed this overly sarcastic side of Doug that Nelson brought out in him.
Doug froze at my touch for a moment, but then his arm came around my back, his hand resting at my waist. I didn’t dare look at him. But he had to know how right this felt, just being together.
Nelson gave us both a dirty look, now that we’d stolen his dramatic moment. “It’s a creeping fig, actually. See these green fruit? Don’t eat them. The seeds are poisonous. And I’d kill the whole thing because it grows like crazy, and if you let it touch the house it will ruin the paint.”
We glanced back at the house. The paint was a non-descript beige, grayish color. And peeling. But he had a point. It was probably better to get rid of the ivy,thenrepaint.
Doug nodded. “I’ll add it to my never-ending list of things to do to this place.”
Doug
I seriously resented Willa for being here and reigniting feelings I’d rather keep buried. She kept finding reasons to touch me, and every time she did, my nerves kicked up in excitement. What was she doing here? Was it boredom? Curiosity? Because neither of those were reasons to break her promise to give me space. I was glad Nelson was here, but it also kept me from calling her out on it.
Back inside, Willa went straight to the packing box she’d opened and started organizing my kitchen. I didn’t want her in my kitchen. I knew I’d picture her here, long after. I’d have to rearrange my cupboards so I wouldn’t think about her every time I did the dishes or got out a plate.
Nelson stayed near her, distractedly putting food away in my pantry, while pestering her with questions about herself.
I didn’t have a chest of drawers moved in yet, or a bed, so I couldn’t unpack my clothes or sheets. Instead, I took a bucket and rag and wiped down my bedroom walls just so I didn’t have to be in the same room with them.
This never-ending project house would take up all my time and thoughts for the next year or so. And that was good. I didn’t need spare time right now.
“Hey, Doug?”
Nelson came in, tapping out a message on his phone. “The girl with the computer speakers messaged me back. I have to go buy them tonight before someone else does.”
“You’re leaving?” I pulled the panic back where he couldn’t see it, since he was looking at me funny.
“Is that okay?” he asked, glancing back toward the kitchen.
“Of course. Yeah. Just don’t hit on the seller. The yard sale site is not Tinder.”
Nelson smiled. “We’ve been chatting back and forth.”
I pointed at him. “Just buy the speakers, and text me when you get home so I know you’re okay.”
He saluted. “Will do.”
I picked up my bucket of soapy water and moved to the walls in the spare bedroom. Maybe Willa would get bored and leave. The only sound was the swoosh of my rag against the plaster and the occasional clank of a dish being stacked.
