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“That’s not necessary.”
The king of the street already welcomed me on Saturday through his pants . . . with his dick.
“I wanted to give you a few weeks to settle in, and time has gotten away, but now it’s already organized. I’m going inside right now to print out the invitations.”
“I don’t want a fuss, Carol.”
“Nonsense.” She smiles. “You’re a part of the Kingston family now.”
Actually, Carol, I’m a dirty dry humper who has no shame.
“Five o’clock on Saturday afternoon on my front porch.”
Feeling like the biggest bitch in the world, I smile. She’s being so nice, and here I am dreading talking to her. What the hell is wrong with me? “Thank you, Carol.”
Suddenly I’m feeling all emotional, and I hug her. “You really don’t need to throw a party, though.”
“Nonsense.” She smiles into my shoulder. “Go run that marathon.”
“Okay.” I begin with a slow jog. “Have a nice day.”
My brother Liam smiles as he looks around the house. “I love it already.”
“Do you really?” I smile hopefully.
“Uh-huh, it’s perfect.” He holds open a rickety door and closes it. “You need to replace these hinges.”
“The interior designer has come up with a plan, and we’re doing up one room at a time. This room is first, so I guess we will get to it.”
“You’re paying an interior decorator?” He frowns. “Isn’t that shit expensive?”
“No, he’s not too bad. Charging me by the hour. But he does think it’s going to be between thirty to sixty thousand dollars to complete.”
“Fuck.” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“I’ve got an interview at a nursing home this week.”
“I thought you liked your job?”
“I do. This is a second job, just one or two shifts a week so I can try and save faster.”
“Don’t kill yourself for a house renovation. It’s not worth it.”
“It’s fine. I’m just going to stack my shifts at the hospital, and then on my days off, I’ll just do one shift at the nursing home. The money is really good.”
He nods. “Okay.”
“So, how did your date go?”
He exhales and flops back onto the couch. “Yeah, okay, I guess.”
I watch him for a moment. “So . . . I’m guessing from your reaction that you had dinner and went home alone.”
“No, we got busy.” He seems bored.
“And?”
He shrugs as if uninterested. “It was . . . mediocre at best.”
