Page 31 of Forced Proximity
A while.
“I don’t know.”
She sat down on the couch and looked up at the roof above her head. “Do you think that the roof will hold?”
“Probably.” I walked around, taking everything in. “Did you happen to see if there was anything to eat?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t look.”
I left her there to go find out what there was to work with.
The baby wouldn’t be able to go long without food without being miserable.
I flicked on the lights in the kitchen, ignored the way the rain was pouring inside from the shattered kitchen window, and started opening cabinets.
I hit pay dirt in the fourth one over.
Powdered milk.
Good.
At least there was something I could offer the kid if we didn’t get anyone here anytime soon.
I grabbed it and walked back to the living room where Dru still sat looking forlorn.
Shocked.
I didn’t blame her.
“Let’s find you some dry clothes.”
She sighed. “What makes you think there’ll be any?”
“Because there’s non-perishables in the kitchen. They live here at least some of the time. People tend to leave clothes behind when they live somewhere. And generally, VRBOs or Airbnb doesn’t generally leave food behind for other people. I wouldn’t trust opened food, and neither would any rational human being.”
She stood up and walked with me through the downstairs.
We hit the master bedroom, and I flicked on the light.
Major cracks spiderwebbed across the walls, and I stopped her from entering all the way.
“You stay out here,” I urged.
She stopped in the doorway. “Guess there was more damage than the roof just ripping off.”
“I imagine that the entire foundation shifted,” I admitted. “It being pier and beam, the air can get underneath the structure and lift it up if it’s bad enough.”
“Hmm,” she said as she watched me start to go through the drawers. “Anything good?”
I held up a pair of pants that were so long that there was no doubt they wouldn’t fit. “Dude must be tall.”
She jerked her head toward the bed. “Alaskan King. As soon as I saw the bed, I wondered.”
I moved to the next set of drawers and pulled out some sweats. “At least these have drawstrings and can be rolled up.”
“Try the other dresser,” she suggested.
I moved to that dresser and sure enough, there were some female clothes in there as well.
