Just a Little White Lie(14)
“Easy for you to say.”
He grabbed their bags and headed down the walk. “Welcome to my humble abode. Remember, I haven’t been here for over a year. Dad’s lawn-service guy keeps the outside up, but inside, the dust bunnies may have mutated, multiplied and taken over the place.”
“Wouldn’t the cleaning staff—”
His bark of laughter stopped her. “Sugar, there’s no cleanin’ staff here.”
Embarrassed heat crept up her chest, her neck, and spread over her face. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. I’m not ashamed I do my own housework.”
“And you shouldn’t be! I—”
“Grew up in different circumstances than me. No big deal, Lucy. Forget it.”
“But—”
His voice hardened. “I said forget it.”
She felt like a heel.
He put the key in the lock, then stopped. “This place belonged to Grandma Hattie. When she moved in with my folks, I figured the house would be a good fit for me.”
“Okay.”
“I just don’t want you expectin’ too much.”
“Jake.” Exasperation spilled into her voice. He ignored her and turned the key.
The musty scent of a space too long closed up greeted them. Jake dropped their bags in the foyer and started opening windows. To get some cross ventilation going, he propped open the door leading onto the screened back porch.
“If it doesn’t get better pretty soon, I’ll run down to the Dollar General and pick up some of those smelly things to set around.”
She nodded.
Picking up her bag, she stood in the open doorway. Oh yeah. No doubt a man lived here. It wasn’t Grandma Hattie’s anymore. No elderly woman’s doodads cluttered the space. No lace doilies, no porcelain or ceramic knickknacks. Instead, solid, earthy touches—a sea-and-sand-colored pottery vase, a turned-wood bowl. And electronics, lots of electronics.
Once he had the house opened up, Jake showed her to her room and left. Unashamedly, she studied the small space. The walls had been painted a pale blue that surprised her with its delicateness. White gauzy drapes covered the windows. An old metal bed was topped with an ancient, hand-sewn blue-and-white quilt. She did a quick backward flop onto the bed and sank into its softness. Heaven. A single, small painting on the far wall was the only non-utilitarian item in the room. Moving closer to study the oil of an old hound dog, she decided she liked both the painting and the room. Comfortable and homey. Certainly not lavish, but not Spartan either.
Lucinda made quick work of unpacking the few things in her duffel. At the bottom, she uncovered an embossed white-and-gold bag. She stared at it for a moment, then tucked it under her arm. A notepad and pencil in hand, she wandered back into a haphazardly tossed-together living room. An ugly maroon sofa, a new leather recliner, a massive TV hanging on the far wall and a couple tables and lamps. A pile of video games were stacked precariously beside a very expensive stereo system. Everything Jake needed, she supposed, and nothing he didn’t.
She jotted a few items on her list then walked out to the kitchen and tossed the bag she carried into the trash. Jake stood in the middle of the room, water spots dampening his old T-shirt.
“Time to give this place a good cleaning.” He nodded toward the washer. “I’ve got a load of sheets started. Figured we’d freshen them before we make up the beds.”
He eyed the paper in her hand. “What have you got there?”
“A list of jobs to be done and what we’ll need for each.”
“You’re kiddin’. Tell me you’re kiddin’.”
“No. I thought we could divide them up and decide who’s going to do what.”
“Sugar, you start wherever you are and keep going till it’s done. I’m gonna start right here with this dust.”
“But that’s on my side.” She pointed to her list.
“Sorry to spoil your party, but I think there’re still a few things for you to tackle.”
“That’s not the point.” She huffed, crossed dusting off her list, and attacked the next item. “You need a plan.”
“Nope, I’ve just got to get the job done.”
“Which you’d do—with a plan.”
“Or without.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Oh yes, you can.”
She shook her head.
“Sugar, we have a whole house to get through. Hit the highlights for now, and we’re good. Why don’t you start in the bathroom? Give the tub and toilet a quick scrub, wipe out the sink.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” The man was impossible. Scrub the toilet? Yikes.