Page 4 of Coming Clean

Jeremy

“ I ’m he-eeeeere, and I have be-eeeeeer.”

“If you say, ‘I’m a poet and don’t know it’, you’re wearing that beer home,” I hollered, my voice echoing off the high ceiling of the kitchen.

David appeared in the doorway. “But I do know it.”

I gave him a look of disgust and took the six-pack he held out. “I also know you have Sparky’s.”

I laughed. David could scent good food from a block away. “Your timing is impeccable. The delivery guy just dropped it off.”

“Delivery? It’s like a mile from here.”

“You’re the one who keeps reminding me of all the money I have now. Why should I get off my rich ass and go get food when some guy will bring it to me for a few bucks more?”

David tilted his head and rubbed his chin as if giving the idea careful consideration. “Good point. How hot did you get it?”

“Medium. And I got you a leg quarter.”

“Awww, you know I can eat MediumPlus.”

Sparky’s was known for their outrageous spiciness.

Their mild was as spicy as most people could take it, and their medium was like most places’ extra hot.

“The last time you went that spicy you spent the next day in the bathroom. If you’re staying here tonight, I don’t want to face those consequences. ”

David pouted. “Fine. What else did you get?”

“Fries, obviously.”

“And slaw?”

“Yes.” I loved drawing it out, watching David’s excitement build.

“And corn pudding?” David was bouncing like a kid. No one would know he was a well-respected Assistant DA.

“Of course.”

“Dessert?”

“Cheerwine cake.”

David dramatically laid his hands over his heart. “I could kiss you.”

I screwed up my face at the thought. “Ewww. Don’t.”

“You have no idea what you’re missing.” David winked as he reached into one of the bags. He was straight, but he would also flirt with anyone.

“I love how supportive you are of me, but seriously, you’re the last person I want to kiss.”

David put one hand on his hip and waggled a fry at me with the other. “You’re turning into a grumpy old queen.”

I scowled. “You better stop while you’re ahead.”

He started to say something else, but I grabbed a few fries and shoved them into his mouth before he could. Food was always guaranteed to derail his train of thought.

“Mmm. These are good.” It was only years of friendship that allowed me to understand what David was saying, since he didn’t bother to finish chewing first. He was impatient to keep talking, as usual.

I grabbed two beers, opened them, and set one in front of him. “Take these plates into the den. I spread out a sheet on the floor. We can eat there, since the table’s still covered in crap.”

“Not because your aunt would never in a million years have let you eat fried chicken on the floor in there?”

I grinned. “Yes. That too.”

“Please tell me you slid down the banister when you first got here.”

I glanced toward the majestic stairway that descended to the entryway. I had certainly thought about it, and then I’d realized I wasn’t ten anymore and would probably bust my balls on the newel post. “Nah.”

David sat the food down. “Come on. Let’s do it right now.”

“Tell me you haven’t been drinking already.”

“No, but I’ve been thinking about this all day. Remember the time your aunt caught us?”

I groaned. “I was grounded forever.”

“But that was such a great day.”

It had been. I had laughed for the first time since my mom died.

I almost never invited anyone over, but knowing my aunt and uncle would be at an art auction, I’d asked David to come home with me.

We’d raided the kitchen, then watched a movie in my uncle’s den, fighting over the recliner.

My aunt and uncle came home early, opening the door just as I came flying down the banister, stopping myself just in time to prevent smacking against the newel post.

“Come on,” David urged again before racing up the stairs. His enthusiasm won me over and I followed. Just as I reached the top step, he swung his leg over the railing. “I get the first turn.”

I stuck my tongue out at my friend. He really was taking me back to my childhood.

He managed to slide down without injuring himself, and I prayed I could do the same as I straddled the banister.

The wood was as highly polished as it had been when I was a kid, as if it were made for sliding.

I picked up speed, nearly losing my balance as I whirled around the curve at the landing.

I gripped the railing tighter, desperate to slow myself before I reached the bottom.

I squeezed my eyes shut as if that would block the pain of a hard hit from the thick post at the bottom. Finally, I came to a hand-burning stop.

Laughing wildly, I jumped to the floor. David pulled me into a tight hug. “See. You needed that.” He patted my back. “Almost as much as you?—”

“Need to get laid?” I had no doubt that was what he was going to say. “Seriously, stay out of my sex life.”

“What sex life?”

“There’s Sparky’s in the kitchen. Maybe I should eat your share too.” I took off running. Halfway to the kitchen, David caught me and grabbed my shirt, trying to yank me back. I struggled, finally managing to pull myself loose and reach the counter first.

“You’re not eating my chicken.” He snatched the bag from me.

“Then take the food into the den like I said before. I’ll get us some utensils.”

David followed instructions this time, and I found him settled on the blanket breathing deeply of the spicy scent coming from the bag.

I reached in and grabbed my container filled with chicken tenders before it could be pilfered.

Then I handed David his leg quarter and set out the sides between us so we could serve ourselves.

Several minutes passed before either of us was up for more than eating and praising the food.

I had forgotten just how good Sparky’s was. Crispy, spicy, chicken-y heaven.

Once David slowed down, he said, “I found someone to clean your house.”

“You did?”

“Yep. Rita, the accountant who lives next door, hired someone recently and she’s been very pleased. She says it’s the best service she’s ever used.”

David always got to know his neighbors and they loved him no matter how different they were.

He had that uncanny ability to get along with anyone.

Even my aunt and uncle hadn’t minded him, except when he was sailing down their banister.

I often wished I had that quality too, but I seemed to be better at sticking my foot in my mouth or appearing aloof and difficult to talk to. I didn’t mean to, it just happened.

“Can you text me her number?”

“Rita’s?” David asked between bites.

“No, the woman who’s cleaning her house, smartass.”

“It’s a man, actually, or at least the company is run by a man. It’s called Spit Shine Clean.”

“Okay. Text me his number. Once I get unpacked, I’ll call him for an estimate.”

David groaned. “I forgot about the unpacking.”

“I should’ve made you work before giving you chicken. Hell, I should have made myself work before ordering the chicken.”

After dinner, I made coffee while David cleared off space on the kitchen bar so we could eat dessert there.

The coffee pot was one of the few things I’d made sure to pack where I could find it.

It was a true essential, since my aunt and uncle had only drunk tea.

David and I each drank a cup with our beloved Cheerwine cake, one of Sparky’s specialties.

“Should we start in here?” David asked.

I looked around the kitchen at the unlabeled boxes and sighed. “We might as well but just unpack the basics. Hopefully I won’t be here too long.”

David frowned. “I hate to mention it, but have you looked into how easy it will be to sell a house this size?”

I had. The statistics depressed me. “Can I just keep my head in the sand about that for a bit longer?”

“I suppose, but you’re going to need to unpack more than a coffee maker and a few outfits.”

“I know I’m not going to be able to sell it right away but…” I sighed. “Fine, we’ll unpack more of my things, but I really hope getting rid of the house won’t take ages.”

“Or…” David’s voice trailed off.

“Or what?”

“You could stay here.”

I had no intention of letting him know I’d been thinking the same thing. “What the hell would I do with a house this big?”

He shrugged. “Throw awesome parties?”

“Right, us poetry scholars are known for our wild evenings. I might even hire nubile young students to read Byron aloud. That would stir up the crowd.”

David grinned. “It would be nice having you close.”

“Yes, I get that, but this house…”

“Is gorgeous. And you always loved it, even though you hated how you were treated here. It’s been in your family for a long time. Your grandparents lived here and?—”

“My great-grandparents before them. Yes, I know.” David was right. I loved the house. When I was very young, it had belonged to my grandmother. The few memories I had of that time were happy ones. My aunt and uncle only moved in after she’d died. “But I don’t want the house.”

“Are you sure?” David asked.

I looked up at the high ceiling and then out the window across the back lawn. No, I wasn’t sure. I’d always loved the backyard, and the neighborhood was awesome. But I didn’t want to be surrounded by memories of my life here, and I didn’t need all this space.

Connor

My phone rang as I headed out the door early Monday morning.

I wanted to ignore it, but it could be a client.

I glanced at the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was being forwarded from my business line.

Did I answer it and risk being late for the client I already had, or ignore it and risk losing a new client?

“This is Connor with Spit Shine Clean, how may I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Jeremy Parks. I got your number from Rita Harkland.”

A potential client. I was glad I’d answered. “Great. Were you interested in having your house cleaned?”

“Yes, I… Actually, it’s a house I inherited,” the man said.

“Okay. Is this a one-time clean? Will you be selling it? We can make it look beautiful for prospective buyers.”

“Probably. Things are up in the air right now. I need to get it ready to be on the market, but it might take a while for it to sell so I might need multiple cleans. I… Sorry, I’m just a bit frazzled.”

How did this guy make frazzled sound adorable? And why had I even noticed? I didn’t do adorable. “No problem. Why don’t we set up a time for an estimate, and then we can talk about further scheduling?”

“Sure. That sounds good. My week’s really open. I’m on sabbatical right now.”

Sabbatical? That was like a paid vacation, right? What kind of job gave those? “Okay. Just so I have an idea, how large is the home you’d like cleaned? Are you, or anyone else, living there?”

“It’s thirty-five-hundred square feet, and I’m living in it.”

“Okay. How many bedrooms and baths?”

“Five bedrooms, four and a half baths.”

It sounded like Jeremy had inherited quite a nice house. “All right, and the address?”

“Eighty-nine Austria Avenue. It’s in West Asheville.”

“I know the street. It’s not too far from my place.” Was he talking about the big green house, the one I always admired when I jogged by? I’d love to see the inside.

“Oh, okay. Um… what day works for you?”

A shiver ran over me and my senses went on alert.

I’d come to think of the feeling as my battlefield sixth sense, the one that told me I was stepping into danger.

What sort of danger could come from Mr. I’m-On-Sabbatical?

“I’ll actually be working for some clients in the area tomorrow.

Would tomorrow morning at nine work for an estimate? ”

“Yes. That works. I’m looking forward to it. To… um… meeting you. I mean, to finding out about the service. The cleaning service.”

I swallowed my laugh. It wasn’t a great idea to insult a prospective client. “Great. See you then.”

As I drove to my next job, I reviewed the phone call in my head. Jeremy had every reason to be flustered. He’d probably lost someone close to him, and he’d just moved, too, but he hadn’t sounded overwhelmed or grieving, he’d sounded nervous.

I shook my head. I was being ridiculous, wasn’t I? At least I only had to wait until the next day to find out more about him.