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Based on our playdate at Noah’s house, her messiness and inability to cook aren’t news. I grin to myself, and having finally made a decision, my body relaxes.
Logan: I can live with that. Call me when you get off work tomorrow evening, and we’ll sort this out.
I find Noah’s name in my phone’s contacts and delete ‘Playdate’ from in front of her name. She’s simply Noah—I like the sound of that.
Chapter 21
Noah
“Isthatthelastof it?”
I heave the box from Logan and Maggie’s apartment into the back of my car. We’ve crammed Logan’s now-repaired SUV so full I fear he may break another axle driving the few blocks from his apartment to my house. Iz insisted on spending her Saturday morning hanging out with the girls while I sweat it out in the early November dawn. Iz’s help saved our asses, because we’d have needed to make double the trips with the space Rainey and Maggie would’ve taken up in our vehicles.
“I think so, but I’ll do a final check.” Logan says as he slams the hatch shut.
He turns and leans his back against the car, laying his head back onto the glass and tilting his face to be warmed by the sunshine. I gawk. The mess of brown hair on his head is longer than I’ve ever seen it, and he’s wrangled it under a beanie this morning, with long tufts poking under its edges. I’ve never been one for facial hair, but the scruff he’s sporting makes me want to drag my lips across it. Probably not appropriate thoughts about my roommate.
Logan and Maggie have spent a lot of time with Rainey and me over the last week as we’ve coordinated the move. He’d been understandably apprehensive about my offer. I lost track of the number of times he worried out loud ifIwas sure this was okay, making me wonder ifhewas truly comfortable with the move.
Allowing Logan to help with Rainey’s care required another background check and approval from my caseworker. Luckily, the rush for Logan’s background check wasn’t as pressing as Iz’s had been, and we received it with days to spare.
The idea of Logan living in my home full-time, of seeing him every day, is exciting. I’ll have help with Rainey’s care. Logan will continue his job search while Maggie and Rainey are in school, not needing to worry about paying rent. He shared his fear of Maggie’s reaction to the move, but the girls seemed ecstatic when we told them they were going to be living in the same house. Maggie even claimed the move would make Rainey her sister. Logan’s attempt to explain why that wasn’t the case proved unsuccessful, but hilarious.
I lean back beside Logan, bumping shoulders with him. He and Maggie are minimal in the belongings department, but holy shit, I’m exhausted from lugging boxes up and down stairs. I need a hot bath, a glass of wine, and a nap in the worst way. Between last night and this morning’s moving, I’m a limp noodle in sweatpants and a long-sleeve t-shirt.
I poke Logan in the side with my index finger. “Go check if we got everything. I’m tired.” He turns his head to the side where I stand and lazily smiles at me. I poke him again.
“Go on, I’ve got a tube of cinnamon rolls in the fridge at our house. They’re waiting for me to come home and eat them.”
“Ourhouse?”
“Yes,ourhouse. You’re going to be living there. Now, get a move on or I’m going to leave your ass here.”
He leans his head back against the glass and whines, “You’re dramatic. Go home. I’ll be right behind you.” The fatigue in his voice drips through his slowed speech.
Logan doesn’t have to tell me twice. Last night, Paul, Lee, and I helped move his furniture into a storage unit I’d insisted on renting for him. Logan wanted to donate the furniture to charity, claiming he didn’t know how long it would be before he could rent another place with an eviction now on his record. I learned the hard way over my teenage and early adult years it’s always better to hold on to stuff. Marie Kondo would die from hearing that, but I’ve donated and re-bought many of the same things as I moved from home to home. Thinking of the money wasted makes me sick. The nag living in the back of my head reminds me this is why I’m a semi-hoarder with a perpetually messy home.
Izabeth has the girls in her palm when I find all three sprawled on the floor of Rainey’s room. They’re playing a concocted mixture of ‘house’ and ‘pizza parlor,’ and I’m smart enough to not ask questions.
“You guys get everything from the apartment?” Iz glances up at me from the floor.
“I think so. Logan’s doing one last check. I’m going to gnaw my arm off if I don’t get some food soon.”
“Where’s my dad?” Maggie asks.
“He’ll be here soon. He was grabbing the last couple of things. Does anyone want to make cinnamon rolls?”
Both girls ditch Iz and are down the stairs and in the kitchen before my tired feet even leave Rainey’s bedroom.
“Go wash up, and I’ll get everything started. You two can put the icing on when they come out of the oven.” Maggie and Rainey skitter down the hallway, and their tiny bums disappear into the half bathroom.
“So?” Iz lifts an eyebrow at me while opening the cinnamon rolls.
“So, what?”
“How are you feeling now that Logan’s stayed here the last few nights?”
Logan and Maggie officially moved in on Thursday when Logan brought most of their clothes and essentials from the apartment. It was the first night all four of us slept under the same roof. I determined, from the moment my lips formed the words and asked Logan to move in with me, I was going to be as relaxed about our living arrangement as my anxiety would allow. We’ve not encountered any problems yet.
