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I follow him back upstairs while we wait for whatever this van is. He tosses me a pair of gloves from his back pocket.
"Put these on," he says as I look down at the cracked leather. He does the same with another pair.
Charlie and I both take the opportunity to walk the house to pass the time. There's definitely no love in the place. Some houses feel like houses, and some houses feel like homes. This place felt more like a model house than a place where three people lived.
I make my way upstairs and down the hall to finally find what must be Raven's room. The room is pretty barren. A small writing desk is off to one side with a few papers on it. A twin-sized bed with a dull-looking comforter is tucked away in the corner.
I enter the room and open the closet. A few outfits are up on hangers, and a small duffle bag is on the floor. I grab the bag and stuff as many clothes as I can into it.
Chances are that neither of us will be coming back here. I want her to have as many of her things as possible. I scour the room for any more belongings, but the place is pretty empty.
Before I exit the room, I decide to pull the one small drawer to the writing desk. Tucked all the way in the back is a little pink journal. Its color is almost blinding compared to the bleakness of the room.
I grab it, but I don't stuff it into the bag. Instead, I stuff it into my pocket.
"Teddy!" I hear Charlie's voice from near the front door. I hike the duffle bag over my shoulder and make my way back downstairs.
"Yeah?" I ask him. I notice there's a carpet cleaning van in the driveway. It's been backed up so that it's as close to the house as possible. The doors are open, and two guys in navy blue coveralls are climbing out.
"Neighbors," he says, pointing to the woman across the street not so inconspicuously checking her mailbox.
"I'll handle it," I reply, taking off the leather gloves and stashing them in my pocket. I take note of the company name on the van as I walk by and wave to the woman. "Hello!" I call out to her.
She acts like she's surprised at first, turning around as if she was just seeing the van for the first time.
"Oh," she fakes. "Hello."
I meet her in the middle of the cul-de-sac. I reach my hand out to shake hers. "Steven," I say, introducing myself.
"Penny," she replies.
"Nice to meet you, Penny. You wouldn't happen to need carpet cleaning services at your house, would you?"
"Oh, um, I think we're all set."
"Are you sure? You don't sound sure," I push. "But what I can assure you of is that nobody in town is going to beat our prices or our quality. You've got my word on that. That's the Steven Steaming guarantee."
"You own the company?" she asks. "But, you look so young."
"Not young, ma'am," I reply. "Young at heart. It's amazing what a vegan diet, eight hours of sleep a night, and two liters of water per day can do for your body. Believe it or not, I'm nearly 40!"
Her eyes widen, and I can see her trying to make sense of what I'm saying. I don't give her any time to come up for air. I want the conversation to be uncomfortable for her so that she backs off.
"But, back to your home and the dirt that I know is trapped underneath your carpets. If you agree to a cleaning right now, I'll give you 20% off."
"I need to think about it," she says, taking a step back.
"Are you sure, ma'am?" I say, taking a step toward her. "I can only offer this discount because we're already in the area."
"I'm sorry," she says. "But, I'd need to check with my husband first."
I love a good "check with my husband" excuse from a woman. I wonder how many times she's said that while out shopping.
"Maybe you can leave me with your card?"
"No cards, ma'am. I work on little to no overhead. That's why we can keep prices so low."
"Okay, well, I'll just remember the name then," she says, taking another step back.
