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I’m pretty sure I’ve never been this excited about a Monday before in my life.
*
I hear Landon’s front door shut just before he says, “All right!” I look away from where Rae and I are cleaning out his fridge, and he grins as he walks into the kitchen. “Bill just toted the last of it off in his truck. Bed, dresser, dining table, couple of chairs, and your couch have all been taken away to give to charity.”
I grin, too, and turn back to the fridge. “Awesome! That doesn’t leave much for us to worry about.”
“Nope. What’s left? This kitchen stuff and my clothes?”
“Yep.” I throw out an old bottle of barbecue sauce Rae hands me. “Want to help us with this or start moving your clothes?”
“May as well help you guys. Get it done faster.”
“Yay!” Rae says.
It’s not even noon on Sunday and we’ve already gotten so much done.
We woke up early, ate breakfast, and went to see Lolly. It wasn’t a great visit—we were barely there five minutes before she went back to sleep because she’s sick again. It concerned us at first, but we were assured of her stability; Joyce, who works weekend mornings, swore up and down that Lolly is in good hands and the stress of having Alzheimer’s is what’s slowing her healing.
Landon and I hoped it was true. Whether it was or not, he’s been handling the whole situation with Lolly really well lately, and today made no exception. After she dozed off, he squeezed her hand and joined me and Rae in saying one-sided goodbyes. When we left, he was feeling relatively calm.
Getting back home kicked off the project of finishing emptying his apartment. It’s happened a day early because it occurred to us yesterday evening that it’d be hectic trying to move all his stuff tomorrow—he’s off work, but Bill and I aren’t. So we went this route, and we’ve made excellent progress. This most recent trip of Bill’s was his third of the day. Almost all of Landon’s smaller possessions have been dealt with and he’s replacing my older couch with his newer one, so we needed the other big pieces of furniture out of the way. We thought about trying to sell them, but the Kinleys wanted to take the stuff off our hands for donation purposes. We thought it was a nice idea.
The task of cleaning out the refrigerator is completed quickly, indeed, with Landon’s help, including walking the stuff that’s still good over to our apartment. Then we pack his dry and canned foods, dishes, and things like spare batteries and dish soap.
When we’ve gotten everything taken care of in here, we move to his bedroom. It’s the last room with anything in it—his bathroom, extra room, hall closet, and living room have all been emptied—and his clothes really are all that’s left. Getting them out of here might be the easiest thing we’ve done since we started the moving process.
Maybe fifteen minutes pass before we’re doing one last walk-through of the whole place.
When Rae and I meet back up with Landon in the living room, he asks, “Find anything we missed?”
“Nope!” we say together.
He smiles. “I didn’t either! Let’s get these last few boxes out and we’re done! Well, I still need to vacuum, but that’ll be cake.”
The best Rae can do is scoot boxes. I carry the ones that aren’t too heavy, and Landon handles the rest.
In no time at all, he’s completely out of his apartment and in ours.
He picks up Rae and the three of us have a hug party amid the boxes, bags, and various other things we’ve piled up in our living room.
“I love you,” I tell him.
He kisses my cheek with hard enthusiasm. “I love you, Liv-Andria.”
I plant kisses along Rae’s arm. “I love you, too, girlfriend!”
She giggles, kisses her fingers, and then pats them over my face. “Love, love, love you, Annie!” She does the same thing to Landon. “And you, too, Landon! Love, love, love!”
“Love, love, love, darlin’!”
She wiggles out of his hold and runs to the bathroom, so he takes my face in his hands and presses a long kiss to my lips.
There’s joy between us, excitement about this new step we’re taking…and as I give him a full hug while I kiss him back soundly, pressing my chest against his, the familiar feeling of longing shows up. It has him dropping his hands to my hips, has me pulling my mouth from his to check if we’re still planning to behave ourselves until tomorrow.
We’ve been adamant about waiting until then, buttonightwill really be his first night living here, plus it’s been a full two weeks since we decided to do this whole thing. It’s a day short of what he and the landlord settled on, but it’s not our fault the office isn’t open on weekends. If he wants to waive the last few hours, I’ll be okay with it.
Before I can get any of that out, his phone rings.
