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My chest shakes and when I look her in the eye, her mouth curls up. “House centipedes aren’t harmful. They’re beneficial. They eat a lot of other pests like roaches, ants, and termites.”
“I’d rather carry every bug you just named around in my pocket than be in the same room with one of those…scuttle monsters. Every damn spring, we get them. Even with an exterminator.”
I follow her back to the bathroom where she looks all around, checking each wall for additional intruders. “Poison doesn’t work so you went for a more dangerous weapon?” I ask, picking up the dildo from the tub. The memory of her naked and soapy holding it above her head was the funniest thing ever. Like I walked in on some weird fever dream version of the Psycho shower scene.
“I didn’t exactly have a flyswatter or shoe handy.” She steps back into the spray of water.
“Uh-huh, and you just keep this, what? Under the sink?” I tease, waving it at her.
She glances over at me with a sheepish smile. “Fine. You busted me. It’s your fault for kissing my neck. It’s my weak spot. Now, keep an eye out while I rinse off because once I see one, there’s going to be more.”
“Okay, but I’m going to need to watch you with your little friend afterward.”
“At your place,” she says. “I’m not sleeping here tonight.”
She isn’t kidding. After finishing her shower and getting dressed, she grabs a stack of sticky mousetraps, peels the paper from them and lays them in a line across her bedroom doorway and the doorway to her bathroom.
“Do you usually catch any like that?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
“Yes. I’ll wallpaper the damn place in traps if I have to.”
I’m not going to point out that centipedes can walk on walls and ceilings, so a doorway of traps isn’t going to keep them out. Instead, I make a mental note to call an exterminator and fill in any crevices and cracks around her trailer to help.
It was hilarious but still, I don’t want her to be scared.
My post op doctor’s appointment finally arrives and I’m cleared to go back to work full time. There will be a lot to catch up on during the next couple of weeks, but I’m not too worried. Monroe accepted the job offer and will start on Monday. I’ll be looking for an assistant for him soon too. It’ll all come together.
On my way back from the doctor’s office, I get detoured down a side street, thanks to a road closure. It’s a nice little neighborhood of craftsman houses with tended yards. At the stop sign on the next corner, I pause and look again at the man sitting on the top step of a stone porch. Ronnie spots me too and gives me a wave. There’s a for sale sign in the yard and the house is obviously unoccupied.
What’s he doing here? He looks okay, but there’s no one around and I know he doesn’t drive. He watches as I park at the curb and head up the front walkway.
“Are you doing alright?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” He doesn’t get up from the step, so I sit beside him. “This used to be my house. I wanted to see if they had changed anything and got lost on memory lane for a bit.”
This is the house he lost when he got sick. “Maren told me about what happened. This is where she grew up?”
“Sure is.” He points to a corner of the yard. “Her playset used to sit right over there. I had to move it because she kept trying to swing high enough to jump over the fence. I thought she was going to impale her fool self.”
“A daredevil, huh?” He grins at my chuckle. “That’s not surprising.”
“At least half of my gray hair can be blamed on her, but she was a joy. She’s my joy and always has been. I miss that wild little girl sometimes but I’m proud of who she became.”
“You should be. She’s amazing.”
One fuzzy eyebrow is cocked at me. “Does she know you’re in love with her?”
The surprise on my face puts a smile on his.
“It isn’t hard to see. I know what love looks like.”
“I haven’t told her yet. It took her months to agree to date me. I’m afraid I’ll scare her away,” I confess. “I want to love her if she’ll let me. I want her to feel safe and know that she can depend on me.”
I’m not sure why I’m telling him this. Maybe because he’s the one who knows her best and wants the best for her. The one who can give me some insight into her reservations. “I don’t think I’m her usual type.”
His wry chuckle contains no hint of amusement. “No and thank the blue heavens for that.” He looks over at me. “Did she tell you about her parents?”
“I know they left her, and that she doesn’t remember them.”
