In the kitchen, I poured us both a glass of bourbon. Fancy took the glass to the head and immediately regretted it, frowning at the nutty spicy flavor of the liquor. Opening the fridge, she selected a beer to wash away the taste of the bourbon. After a few sips, she eyed me curiously. “Are you not going to say it back? I mean you don’t have to if you don’t feel it … but …”
I drank the remainder of my bourbon before answering. I’d declared my love for her a few nights prior, nothing had changed. “First day of kindergarten you came in and your hair was in two twisted pigtails with big pink ribbons at the top. The ribbons were almost as big as your head. And I thought, wow. I was five and could barely spell my name, but knew my life was forever changed in that moment. So, I’m glad you’re in love. Welcome to the party. I’ve been here waiting on you for a long fucking time.”
She rested her hand on my cheek, her thumb stroking my face. “Well, I hope I was worth the wait.”
“You were, you are, and you always will be.”
When Ozzie entered a room,his presence was felt. From the porch he was banging on the door and beat boxing to some made up tune.
“Keep your pants on,” I shouted from upstairs while I shrugged into a robe.
“Fancy, oh Fancy girl. Let me in.”
I swung the front door open, irritation written all over my face. “What the fuck, Oz?”
“Don’t tell me you were still sleeping. Not on a beautiful morning like this.” He pushed past me.
“I like to ease into my day. Thank you very much.”
“Whoa.” Oz retreated, bumping into me. “Edison’s a hoarder? I would’ve never guessed.”
“He’s not a hoarder. I mean sure this place has a lot of?—”
“Shit. It’s a crap load of shit.”
“Edison bought the house as is. And he’s sorting through the items at his own pace.”
“A snail’s pace. He’s lived here for almost a year. You’re dating a squirrel.”
“What?”
“Have you ever come across a squirrel’s stash house? Tons of acorns, mushrooms, and plants all stuffed to the gills.”
“I’ll have you know many of these items are sought after collector finds.”
“One man’s trash is another’s treasure.” His tone didn’t match his words.
“Exactly.”
“Like that two headed goat over there.” He pointed to what I called the parlor of curiosities.
“It’s not real.”
“Ehh, are you sure about that?”
I wasn’t sure. But I preferred my claim over the possibility of Mr. Castle beheading conjoined goats. “Do you want coffee?”
“Yep, you know how I like it.” Ozzie followed me to the kitchen, sniffing the entire time. “Are you cooking?”
“No.”
“Then why does it smell like cheese?”
It was too early for Oz to be picking at every single flaw in this sweet little house. “I don’t know.” I surrendered my arms in the air. I don’t know what to tell you. The house smells like cheese. But it’s just downstairs.”
“Let me get this straight, Edison has your nose so wide open you are willing to shack up with him in his creepy old man house that smells like Limburger.”
“Okay, first off who still calls it shacking up? And second, I happen to like this old smelly house.”
