Page 9 of The Rebound
“Oh, I fell asleep, didn’t I? Sorry. These days I’m always on the brink of a nap.”
“It’s no problem. Come on, let’s get you inside.”
I offer her a hand, and Kinley accepts it. Her palm is soft as silk, and her grip light and pleasant. A shiver climbs up my arm and spreads across my chest.
Just going to ignore that sensation for now.
Since her feet are swollen from walking around all day, Kinley lets me help her up the stairs. Once we’re in her condo, she gestures to the couch with her half-empty water bottle.
“There. Just leave me there to die.”
I chuckle, following her lead to the couch and steadying her as she lowers herself with a huff. Once I’m sure she’s comfortable, I look her in the eye and deadpan, “Rest in peace.”
Kinley lets out a low laugh from deep in her chest, sinking into the cushions. “Peace, huh? What would you say at my funeral?”
I take a moment to contemplate this while I’m stacking pillows beneath her ankles. “She had a great sense of humor and very swollen feet.”
“Deep,” she says, her eyebrows hitching. She takes a gulp from the water bottle before stifling another yawn. “Thanks for your help today. You’re really the best neighbor I’ve ever had. Or maybe I’m the worst neighbor you’ve ever had.”
I shrug. “Like I said, nothing better to do.”
It’s true. If I weren’t here, I would just be sitting alone at my own place, probably playing video games. Maybe getting tempted to get into trouble. At that thought, I glance around, deciding I might as well continue to make myself useful.
While Kinley dozes, I wander around her condo, putting away the new purchases one by one. New air fresheners in the bathroom. Paper towels and cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink. Two kinds of prenatal vitamins on the kitchen island. Four bags of frozen broccoli in the freezer.
Huh. I guess she really likes broccoli.
Laundry detergent and fabric softener in the cupboard above the washer and dryer. A small succulent in the living room on the window ledge, where it will get plenty of sun. The new pair of plush slippers outside of her bedroom door.
While I organize whatever I can, I walk past the second bedroom door, which is cracked open a couple of inches. Inside, the walls are painted a soft beige just like the rest of the condo, and boxes of diapers are piled on the floor.
This must be the nursery.
I almost peek my head in for a better look, but think better of it. I’d rather have Kinley show it to me herself. Besides, there’s not much to see. It doesn’t look like she’s done much with the space yet.
I’m tempted to start helping her unpack the rest of those moving boxes too, but that feels a little more personal than unpacking the shopping bags we filled together just a couple of hours ago. I glance at my watch, seeing almost dinnertime, and wonder if I have enough time to go back to my place and whip something up for her while she’s still asleep.
“What time is it?”
I turn to see Kinley standing up from the couch, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She smiles at me, refreshed from the short but much-needed rest.
“Almost dinnertime.”
“Oh man, I must have slept for a while. I’m a terrible host.”
“You were tired. I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and put away as much as I could.”
She looks around, taking in the view of a tidier living space. “Are you kidding? That’s so nice of you. I’m ... whew.” She blinks back some tears and swallows. “I’m getting emotional. Will you let me make you some dinner as a thank-you? I really can’t be indebted to you like this. It’s too much.”
“Kinley, it’s really okay—”
“Please? I love cooking. It wouldn’t be a hassle for me. Plus, I’m starving. You’d be doing me a favor.” She uses my own words from last night against me with a knowing smile.
I rub the stubble along my jaw, uncertain if accepting a favor from a pregnant woman will somehow undo all the good karma I’ve earned today.
You know what? Screw karma. I like spending time with Kinley. And if she wants to make me dinner, then why the hell not?
“Sure, I’m down.”
