Page 25 of The Deals We Make
I get the oddest vision of wrapping it around my fist while I do all kinds of things to her I hadn’t considered before. She’s got a great-looking ass—wouldn’t mind the chance to check it out…if she could manage to swallow her hatred of me for five seconds.
“That her?” Switch asks.
“Yup.”
“Can see why you’re staring. She’s a pretty one.”
I punch him in the shoulder. “Shut up.”
We step out of the truck and start unloading the things into the house.
“Cal, this is my best friend, Switch. He’s gonna help me with the kitchen. Switch, this is Calista.” I see the way the wordsbest friendbring a haunted look to her eyes.
It’s followed by a flash of panic I don’t understand.
“Hey, Calista,” Switch says, offering her his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Hey,” she says, but there is a crack in her voice, and she looks for a long minute at the hand my friend offers before shaking it for half a heartbeat.
“Not sure I want to know what he could possibly have had to say.” She turns to me. “Mom may not want everyone to see her house like this. There’s a reason she’s staying hidden away in here.”
I’m not sure why she feels my friend can’t come in the house, but I’ll work with it.
“He’s gonna give me a hand power washing shit in the yard. Won’t be traipsing through the house. Matt Lawrence is my neighbor. Asked him to come do the chimney so you can get a fire going in here while we figure out what’s going on with the heating.”
Calista’s eyes widen. “Matt Lawrence from high school.”
“The same. Runs his own chimney cleaning company but asked if he’d come do it himself as a favor.”
Calista looks between the two of us, like she’s confused. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s what friends do, Cal.”
“But we aren’t…” She lets the words drift off.
“Well, this isn’t awkward at all,” Switch says, patting me on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go carry the shit we brought around back.”
My eyes remain on Cal. “I don’t know where the young girl I used to know went, but I hope you find her in this house somewhere. Because you are something else.”
I follow Switch to the kitchen.
“And I thought I had my work cut out for me marrying a Mafia princess,” he says when I find him unlocking the door to the rear of the house.
“Not trying to get her to marry me.” I head for the fridge and begin clearing it out. “Figured we’d get everything we can power wash out onto the porch. Give it a good spray off, then pile it up for the dishwasher. I’ll photograph the cupboards, take everything out, then clean the inside of them.”
“Why are you photographing them?”
“So I can put everything back the way we found it. If Mrs. Moray has dementia, I’m sure life is already confusing as fuck. If she has depression, she probably doesn’t need the barrier of finding where everything is if she wants to cook a meal.”
“And that’s why you’re such a good man,” Switch says as we hook the power washer to the tap.
“Just doing what’s right.”
It’s fucking frigid out here. The kind of cold where the hairs in your nose feel like they’re about to snap.
We work together tirelessly. The only interruptions are when Matt arrives to clean the fireplace and Calista comes into thekitchen to refill the freshly cleaned refrigerator with the supplies I put out on the back porch to keep cool while we worked.
It’s dark by the time we finish, but the kitchen is as spotless as we can make it. It’s still in rough shape. Broken cabinets. Stains we couldn’t get off the sink, even with the power washer that we brought inside for the job, which was a fucking mistake as water sprayed everywhere.
