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Today’s date was still on the rough spectrum. I can picture Trey’s date being even cuter and more perky, while mine was a Lord of the Rings fan. I guess we’re going to cover every fantasy genre out there on these dates. We went to the Museum of Fine Art and actually made it to dinner this time. It was an anticlimactic date, up until he tried to go in for a cheek kiss and I pulled out aMatrixmove to dodge.

It was a bit much, but I can only control so much of my instincts when it comes to the opposite sex and their intentions.

And then there’s Trey. I got brave and hugged him the other day, but I wouldn’t mind something more when it comes to him. Except he probably had the time of his life with his second match. He’s probably glad we didn’t get paired up for this date. I’m sure the producers of the show are grateful too.

I could text him and casually see what he’s up to, but that would be taking it too far. Then again, I could make it about the job. The stuff we ordered won’t arrive until the end of the week.

Ugh, hormones are lame at this time of the month. Just because he didn’t call or text doesn’t mean I need to obsess over it.

Shaking my head, I refocus on my current job.

Sullivan Home Cleaning Log Day 1067.

Okay, so I don’t know what day I’m on cleaning my father’s home, but I know it feels at least that long. With the bits and pieces of time I’ve been able to spend there, it hasn’t gone as quickly as I would like.

Yet, it’s been good for my dad to go through the room I’m currently working on to find anything he doesn’t want taken away. We’ve already had the dumpster emptied once, and from the look of this place, it’s going to be another four or five before the house is cleaned out.

“Kenz the Benz,” a familiar voice says behind me. I turn to see my oldest brother getting out of his family van. “How’s it coming in there?”

“Turtle slow.”

Even though Damian isn’t my dad’s biological son, my dad adopted him and my other two half-brothers once he married my mother.

“What brings you here?” I ask, pulling out a new mask and a pair of gloves from one of the boxes I bought yesterday.

“I figured you could use some reinforcements.” He points to the curb where my other two brothers are getting out of a truck.

“You all came to help?”

Damian pulls me in for a hug and squeezes hard enough to make it difficult to breathe. “We know what it was like growing up before you came along to keep things in line. I figured we could get our hands dirty and help get this place cleaned up for Dad.”

“Your hands aren’t all that’s going to be dirty. Take a mask and gloves. You’re going to need them.”

Once inside, I turn to see their collective faces, eyes wide over the mask. “He’s been living like this?” Porter asks.

“This isn’t even half of it. This is the kitchen after several days of cleaning.” There are still some mounds of garbage and the odd broken dishwasher in the middle of the room.

They all shake their heads. “I should’ve checked in earlier. Dad just always asked to meet somewhere else. I never thought that he might be having trouble here.” Ty’s eyes are tearing up, and I get it. The emotional weight of what’s happening around us is more than we could’ve comprehended.

“Let’s get going. Dad said he was going to get gas when I got here.” I start giving directions, telling my brothers where to put things and the process that will get this done the fastest. Having them here to help is a boost to my enthusiasm for the job.

We spend an hour in the kitchen and have cleaned it up to the point it’s ready for a deep scrub cleaning.

“Keep us working,” Damian says. “Julie knows I’ll be here for as long as you need me. These guys too.” He punctuates the last word with a slap to Ty’s gut.

“The family room is piled high with so much stuff. I’d say we can get rid of the garbage and then we’ll wait for Dad to find anything of value to him.”

Porter shakes his head as we all look at the scene before us. “Are you sure there’s anything valuable in there?”

“It might not look that way to us,” I say, grabbing a garbage bag and picking up a bunch of used coffee cups. “From everything I’ve researched though, we have to ease him into the changes or else he’ll revert back. We also need to convince him to see someone about this.” I wave to the mess, wishing I could wave a magic wand to make it disappear.

Everyone turns to Ty. “Ty is the best option for that,” Damian says, pulling down the mask for a second. His beard has to take up most of the space in the mask, probably making it hard to breathe.

“Why me?” Ty asks, his voice going high and squeaky like when he was younger. We all know secretly he’s pleased.

“Because you were the one to convince him to go on that road trip when I was in elementary, remember? I don’t think he’s taken an extended vacation since,” I say, putting my hand on my hip.

“I’ve gone on vacation,” Dad’s voice calls out and we all jump and turn around to the back door. “Wow, there’s a kitchen here.” Tears well in his eyes and his lips tremble.