One of the guys, whose name tag readMac,lifted a shoulder. “Four to six weeks depending on the severity. Once we clear it up a little bit, you can go in and assess your damages and gather any items you’d like.” He pulled a business card from his breast pocket. “If you’ll call the landlord’s office tomorrow, they’ll be available to go over your options.”
“Options,” she repeated.
“Hey, Mac!” came a shout from inside her apartment.
“Excuse me,” Mac said, and disappeared inside.
Charlie turned, her eyes unfocused and her face devoid of expression. “Well, shit,” she said after a minute of silence.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. But we should talk about this somewhere else.”
“Somewhere else. I have nowhere to go.” She barked out a laugh. “Have you looked inside there? It’s a disaster zone, Liam.”
“It’s just stuff. It can be replaced.” I guided her by the shoulders out of the melee while I figured out how to tell her what had happened. I’d tried to protect her and I’d wound up causing her even more damage.
For a few minutes we just watched the parade of repairmen go in and out. Each time they stomped over the sodden carpet, Charlie winced. As the minutes passed, her shoulders grew tighter and tighter until they were somewhere up around her ears.
“Why don’t you stay at my place?” I said. I didn’t know I was going to offer until the words spilled from my mouth. The more I thought about it, the more the idea made sense. It wasn’t going to be forever. We were best friends, for fuck’s sake. Of course she could bunk with me. It was my fault she was without a place. It was my responsibility to make it right.
“What?” She blinked owlishly up at me, like she was waking from a dream. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Why don’t you stay at my place until they’ve got yours sorted?”
She blinked again, her mouth hanging slightly open. Then she shook her head and said, “No, I couldn’t do that to you. You love your house. We just talked about how you didn’t’ want to settle down and all that.”
I shrugged, feeling awkward as hell. “It’s not that big of a deal, and it’s not like I’m asking you to marry me. It would just be for a couple weeks.”
“I can’t move in with you!” I wasn’t sure her eyes could get any bigger.
I shot a pointed glance at the ruins of her apartment. “Well you sure as hell can’t live here.”
A variety of emotions crossed her face, starting with irritation and ending with resignation. “Just for tonight,” she said after a while. “Just until I can talk to the super and figure out what my options are.”
Our building manager had never been what you’d call responsible, so I didn’t have any high hopes about her “options”, but she’d already had enough shit dumped on her in the past couple of days, so I agreed. I waited outside her front door while they let her run in and grab a few things that weren’t completely soaked. I would have offered to help her, but she had the wrinkle between her brows that meant she was looking to fight with someone.
As soon as she came out with a couple garbage bags full of her stuff, I took them from her hands and said, “C’mon, I know you’re hungry. Let’s heat up a pizza and I’ll get you some medicine for the headache you’ve got.”
She squinted at me. “How did you know I have a headache?”
After reaching the elevator, I turned to her and pressed the crease between her brow. “This right here.”
She only sighed, and I figured I wouldn’t push her for the rest of the night. She had enough to deal with. We loaded her things into my truck and she was silent for the short drive over to my squat little duplex. The paint on the clapboard siding needed refinishing. The door was a little cock-eyed and the landscaping was practically non-existent, but it was dry and it was as clean as a bachelor pad could get, which was a hell of a lot better than her place. And it’d save her more money than if she got a hotel.
I set her bags down underneath the kitchen bar as she kicked out of her shoes. While she threw herself on the couch with a grown, I grabbed a frozen pizza from the freezer, unwrapped it and set it on a cookie sheet while the oven preheated. I shook a couple Tylenol into my hand and brought them over to her, along with a glass of water.
“Take these.”
She did as I’d instructed and gulped down the whole glass of water. “Thank you,” she said on a heavy exhale. “I guess I’ll know better than to think things couldn’t get worse in the future.”
I chugged my own glass of water, hoping the knot in my throat would dissolve. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we’ll get it taken care of.”
“I know. I just I hate it when things are out of my control.” She frowned, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “What?” she asked indignantly.
“You’re gonna go through your whole life frustrated if you think you can control everything. If my family had taught me anything, it’s that you have to learn to roll with the punches. Cliché, but it hasn’t done me wrong yet.”
She shook her head, then winced and slumped down against the couch. “I’d rather know what’s happening. Have a plan. That way if something does go wrong, I’ll know what to do.”
“So, you’re saying you should have planned to lose your apartment?” Maybe I was wrong about understanding this woman in particular. I scratched my head.
