Page 8 of Jeremy
No,not thinking about that today. I can’t.
“HappyMaids Service is sending a team in about an hour,” Justus says. “You’re goingto kill their happiness.”
Tuckerchuckles and grabs his keys. “I told them you’d leave the key in the mailbox.”
WhenI go to chuck the extra house key in the mailbox at the end of my drive, it’sstuffed with circulars and coupons. I never check it because no one has thisaddress, and all my bills are set up to be paid automatically from my bankaccount.
Justas I’m about to throw it all in the trash can beside me, a one-hundred-dollarbill falls out of the pile and floats to the ground.
“Whatthe fuck?” Tucker asks. “Did someone send cash through the postal service? That’sstupid.”
Climbingin the back seat of Tucker’s car, I sort through the pile until I locate theslim, white envelope. There’s only one word scrawled across the front in whatappears to be feminine handwriting.
Asshole
“Yeah,it’s for you all right,” Justus quips, but his eyes grow wider when I pull outa stack of bills.
“Fifteenhundred dollars. Who the hell put fifteen hundred in cash in my mailbox withouta name or anything?”
“Maybesomeone got the wrong house?” Tucker suggests.
“Fuckif I know.” There’s nothing in or on the envelope to give me any clue where itcame from.
“Whenwas the last time you checked your mail?” Tucker asks.
“Aweek or two after I moved in. Didn’t see the point. No one uses snail mailanymore.”
“That’sweird. What are you going to do with the money?”
Shrugging,I shove it back into the envelope. “I’ll hang onto it for a while. If someonegot the wrong house, I’m sure they’ll be back to get it.”
“Becausethat’s not shady at all. It was probably meant for drugs or some shit,” Tuckersays. “Do you have your gun with you?”
“Yes,Dad. Locked and loaded. Now, let’s get a steak. I’m starving.”
#
Eighthours later, after a steak dinner, haircut, and a few games of pool at a localbar, we return to my house.
Aminivan with Happy Maids scrawled across the side in pink paint sits in mydriveway, and two young women are just coming out of my front door.
Justusstops and gives them a bright smile. Justus isn’t the type to cheat—and godknows Sadie would cut his nuts off if he did—but that doesn’t stop him fromflirting. “Hello ladies, I just want to point out that this is not my house. Ilive in a nice, clean place—”
“Withhis wife,” I interrupt, and they both laugh. Reaching into my wallet, I pullout four hundred bucks and split it between them. I don’t know how much theagency pays, but it can’t be enough for what they had to deal with. “Thanks.”
“Thankyou,” one of them replies, giving me a green light look if I’ve ever seen one.
“Drivesafe,” I mumble, and walk past the guys into the house.
Theyfollow me inside.
Wow.The place is spotless and smells like lemons. They even did my laundry. “Dude,what was that?” Justus asks, as Tucker carries the cases of beer into thekitchen. He returns with three bottles and passes them around.
“What?”
“Thatchick was practically humping your leg.”
“Notinterested.” I flop onto the couch and take a long pull from the bottle.
