"That's basically it," I say curtly. "There's a finished basement, the backyard. And you saw the front porch."
Her demeanor changes slightly—more rigid than it was just a moment ago. Standing straighter, she interlocks her hands in front of her waist. "Sounds good."
I turn away from her, resisting the natural urge to crack a joke or drop a one-liner, but then I twist back anyway. "I don't know if I mentioned this in the interview, but as of now, this is just for the season. I'll obviously be around much more next year after retiring, and Ruthie will be even older…" My voice trails off as if I'm learning it too.
She presses her lips together. "I get it."
I tip my chin down and head toward the hallway. "You can find your way back to the kitchen?"
"Mhmm."
"Great," I say over my shoulder. "I'm gonna grab a shower."
I take the few steps it takes to reach my bedroom, walk through the door, and slam it closed. I wait to hear Tess's footsteps pass by on the other side, and when they do, my eyes slink shut. I take a deep breath, then push off of the door and walk into my bathroom. I turn the water on, letting it warm up so that it can hopefully wash away the sweat at my brow.
And the mood I still can't seem to kick.
9
Tessa
"Do we need creamer?"
Trevor glances up from his phone turned sideways in his hand, his forearms resting on the cart handle. "No, we still have almost a full hazelnut one."
"But, I don't like that one," I remind him for what feels like the millionth time since he first bought it.
"Well, all you asked is if we needed creamer." He flashes me that playful smile and winks.
I reach for the sweet cream oat milk one that I prefer and stick it underneath my arm. "What about eggs?"
"I don't think so, but you have the list."
I scan the Notes app on my phone. "Yeah, but last time I checked, we didn't. I only used two for the banana bread I took to the Montgomery's. You had some for breakfast, right?"
Trevor looks at the ceiling as if he can't remember what he ate. "No, we don't need any. There were still some in there."
"How many?" I ask skeptically.
He holds up two fingers as he looks down again at his phone. I smother a sigh, reaching for a carton of eggs and bringing both that and the creamer to the cart. "Another big game?"
Trev nods. "The Flames just pulled their goalie."
"Huh?"
"Carter Ward," he clarifies as if the player's name was what I needed clarified.
Rather than explain myself, I continue walking past the dairy section of Grover's and head toward the produce. Trevor groans as he trails slowly behind me, his attention more on his screen than the bins of colorful fruit he should be avoiding crashing into.
I pick up a few avocados, waiting for him to catch up, looking for one that's not too green but also not too brown. I eventually find one at the same time that he slides up beside me. I drop it in the back corner of the cart, and move on to the apples. My eyes trail over the Galas and the Red Delicious before landing on the Honeycrisps. "I'm getting these if you want some of your Fujis."
"Nah, I'm good," he says, his phone finally away. He picks up a Granny Smith and tosses it in the air. "How's the job going, by the way?"
The irony of him throwing the green fruit like a baseball at the same time he asks about my new job for the first time ever makes me wonder if that's what made him think of it. As far as he's concerned, I may no longer even be employed.
"It's good," I answer, bagging the apples and tying off the thin plastic. "Liam's being a little standoffish, but I think he's just afraid I'll bail."
"Is that what happened with the last one?"
