Page 7 of Wreck Me

He reached out as if to touch one of the uprights holding up the porch’s roof, but Ginny waggled a finger at him. “Ah, ah, ah. Your lawyer said no touchy.”

He shoved his hands back into his pockets. “There, now you’re safe.”

“I don’t know about that. I don’t feel safe at all. You’re obviously very confused, but you seem to want to take my house.”

“This isnotyour house. You can’t just claim a whole house because you feel like it! What did you do five years ago, break a window? That’s breaking and entering. It’s illegal.”

“I did not break into anything. I had a key. And since then, all I’ve done is fix this place up.” She corrected herself. “No, wait,” she said, and tapped her phone screen lightly. “I’ve beautified it notoriously.”

“There’sno wayyou had a key.”

She hopped up and headed for the front door. Reaching inside and to the left, she pulled her key ring off its hook. “I did and I still do, see?” she said as she dangled the unusually large brass house key toward him.

His face registered genuine shock as he held out his hand. “Let me see that.”

She quick tucked the key down the front of her shirt. “As if.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I was sent out here to clean the place.”

“You were not.”

“I was. Some fool thought it could be rented. But there were actual mushrooms growing like stalactites from her ceilings, holes in her rotted front porch, and a cracked toilet in the only bathroom. Not even a craven capitalist such as yourself would get away with housing another human being in it. I certainly wasn't going to steal anyone’s money by cleaning her in that state, so I took pictures and sent them to my sister. The guy at least had the sense to cancel the cleaning.”

The man was rubbing his forehead as if trying to smooth out the wrinkles that had just erupted all over it like a Ripples potato chip. “I…that can’t be right, I mean…”

“It is right, and it is what happened.”

“But even if all that’s true, it was just to clean it. It doesn’t explain why you’re still here.”

“Well, obviously, I came back.”

“Why, though, if it was so disgusting and unlivable?”

Ginny’s face blushed for real now. He had no idea how private the answer to that question was to her. “I…don’t want to tell you.”

“Because it’s a lie you haven’t finished making up yet?”

“Because you’ll laugh.”

He bit his lower lip as he stared impatiently at the sky. “I promise I’m not in a laughing mood.”

In five years, Ginny had never spoken aloud her true feelings about the house to anyone. It was just too personal, too precious. But now that someone had directly asked, she suddenly very much wanted to talk about it. Once Monique got there and cleared this confusion up, the man would leave anyway, never to be seen again, so what harm could come from telling him?

She slid down slowly into a cross-legged position with her back to the front door. “Fine. What do I care if you laugh? You’re probably not even capable of something so human as humor. After I left, there was something about the house, something almost…calling to me.” His eyes flickered toward hers, and she was worried he was going to interrupt. He didn’t, but to keep from being annoyed at his reactions, she closed her eyes tightly and pressed on. “I went back and, walking through the rooms, I could just feel how much she had been loved, you know? How much love there still was in her walls. I mean, the place is small, and she isn’t going to win any house beautiful competitions, but she’s solidly built and even has some sweet little eccentricities.”

“Eccentricities?”

His tone was dismissive, but she barely registered that fact. The more she spoke about those first magical minutes at the house, the more she was right back there on that day. Her voice took on a dreamy quality. “There’s a tall, narrow window in the bathroom that sends this cheery slice of natural light sweeping across the room like a sun dial.” She formed her right hand and forearm into a vertical line and demonstrated how the band oflight moves. “And the fireplace surround has legit Dutch Delft tiles in it. In one, there’s the cutest tiny blue and white couple walking hand-in-hand by a windmill.”

“You don’t say,” the man said in a droll tone, but she wasn’t going to let him ruin the very first telling of her memories of the place.

“I do say! And there’s a built-in kitchen breakfast nook that reminds me of a booth at a diner I used to have brunch at every week.”

By now, she felt as if she were musing out loud to herself. “It just felt…feels…like home.” She placed her palms flat on the porch boards to commune with their energy. “That first day I returned, I laid a tarp over the holes in the roof to protect it from rain. I didn’t even know why I bothered. But then the next day, I came back with a bunch of tools and a sleeping bag and started living here. And whenever I’m not on a cleaning job, I’m fixing her up.” She reached both arms up over her head and gave the front door a friendly pat. “This ol’ gal needed work, but she didn’t deserve to be given up on.”

There was a short silence, and then Ginny heard the man give a slow clap. “Very nice performance.”

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