Page 19 of Clean Sweep
“A four week fiancée clearly has!” Starla cried under her breath. “She didn’t say anything to me. We just . . . stared at each other.”
I closed my eyes.
Four-week fiancée? No wonder Leslie wanted a deep clean and called someone else. The thought of Celeste popping home with someone I didn’t know and a ring on her finger after four weeks sent a shiver of something rather angry through me.
Nope.
This was the worst possible scenario. How had I forgotten the stupid vacuum? Did I curse God? Was this punishment for something?
“I’ve got this,” Landon said. “We’ll tell her the news about medical school and this won’t seem so bad.”
“Landon,” Starla cried, her face in her hands. “This is the worst idea ever. I just don’t think your plan is—“
“It’s fine. I’ve got this. I’ll take care of you now. We’re in this together. We need to just break the ice and then talk to her about it later, okay?”
He cupped her face in his hands. I turned my back and wished myself on Mars. Maybe Jupiter? Someplace that didn’t have air so I could focus on the panic of death instead. I’d take that.
Anything but this.
Starla let out a long breath. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”
After a 5,000 year eternity stretched in front of us, they clasped hands and turned to enter the house together. I sucked in a sharp breath when Celeste let out a peal of laughter and confirmed there was no getting out of this now.
Reluctantly, I followed behind the happy couple.
Stirred up drama that had nothing to do with me sounded like a miserable time, but the woman behind the mess had me intrigued.
At least I knew the house was clean.
ONCE INSIDE,I peeled my boots off and glanced around.
Not a knickknack or frame had been nudged out of place. She’d clearly taken pains to keep everything together in the twenty-four hours that had passed.
A lot of years went behind my hidden superpower of cleaning, organizing, and then making online videos on how to get the stains out of carpet. My more comedic ones, like how to organize a junk drawer by dumping it into the trash can and starting over, had even gained our business a lot of clients. Sure, it all looked fun behind the scenes.
Mostly, it was.
But most people didn’t know that I hated cleaning. Hated the grungy work in other people’s houses, breathing their fumes, inhaling their dust. I loved the feeling afterward, though, and that made it worth it.
There had been times in my life when I couldn’t sort all my problems out. Or any of them, really. Instead of the chaos of a small child and an immature wife, I found refuge in controlling what I could.
Namely, my house.
Eventually, I made a temporary career out of it. One day, I’d sell the business. For now, it taught Celeste how to work hard, provided a means for her to save for college, and got me out of the teacher-grind that had burned me out.
Lines of strain had appeared around Leslie’s warm smile as we shuffled into the kitchen. The air lay thick with the meaty scent of BBQ. A golden pan of cornbread sat on the table, near a bowl of coleslaw and buttered corn.
Leslie covered her tension with happy small talk and puttered around, grabbing plates and giving instructions on dishing up food. Another kid—probably Blake, whom Celeste spoke about often—descended the stairs. He spoke with Starla, giving her a shy smile, then nodded to me.
Meanwhile, Leslie and Celeste made little whirls in the kitchen.
I stood back and took it in. Hopefully, cleaning her house gave Leslie the same sense of control I often craved. I didn’t know Leslie, but I felt for her. Perhaps I’d gone a bit too far with the organizing and fixing, but I’d been on a roll. It had felt good to get back into it and one divorcée to another—it was needed.
Besides, the invoice would be nice.
Landon hadn’t let go of Starla as they walked inside and he held onto her now. He had always been a good kid. Intelligent to a fault. A little bit impetuous, but focused when he needed to be. Had he fostered those traits, or had life after high school eaten him whole and spit him back out as a mess who attached to a girl who wasn’t good for him? I knew that story with personal experience.
Could go either way.
