Page 70 of Banter & Blushes

“Nice place.”

“Thanks.”

I follow her to the kitchen and set the food on the counter.

“If you don’t mind waiting a little longer, I can heat everything in the oven. It tastes better that way than in a microwave.”

“I’m in no hurry.” The only thing I need to do before tomorrow is make sure I shave. I run a hand over my jaw and remember the makeup. “Do you have a bathroom?”

“No, I use the ocean.” Tiffany smirks.

That was stupid of me. “I mean can I use the bathroom?”

“I don’t know. Can you?” She laughs.

I frown, and she laughs harder. “It’s down the hall right there.” She points behind her.

I slide down the narrow hallway and find it. This room may be even brighter than the living room, with a flowered shower curtain.

I lock the door behind me and stare in the mirror, then almost fall backward when I’m eye level with a sign that reads, “Get Naked!” Not the thought I need to have in the bathroom of my ex-girlfriend.

Tiffany always had an odd sense of humor, and I’ve been in enough Southern women’s houses to know they think stuff like that is cute.

But that one caught me off-guard.

A bright pink towel with lace hangs from a hook by the sink. I’d rather use a paper towel and not mess that one up. I open the closet door and do a quick scan. Just more towels and girl stuff, including more things I don’t want to touch.

I roll off some toilet paper and hope for the best.

It’s a little mushy, but does the job of wiping my face clean. That leaves me with a wad of mud-colored wet paper balls. I can’t put those in the trash, she’ll see them. I toss them in the toilet, then flush.

The toilet clogs. Of course it does.

I open the closet again and grab the plunger I saw in the corner. It’s bright pink like everything else in this room, and has flowers on the handles. Where does she find this stuff?

She clearly bought this plunger on looks alone, because it’s not getting the job done. I flush again, and mildly panic when the water fills higher. This is not cool.

It’s just paper. Isn’t that crap supposed to dissolve?

“Colt, are you okay?” Tiffany’s voice sounds dangerously close.

“Yeah.”

I give it one more good plunge, then wipe the sweat from my brow. Wearing makeup isn’t looking so bad right now.

“The food is ready. Let me know ifyou need anything.”

I plunge a little more, breaking the paper apart.

That’s it. I’m coming clean. No pun intended.

I open the door to Tiffany right outside, arms crossed. She looks concerned. I would be too. Heck, I am.

“Your toilet is stopped up.”

“Oh. Did you find the plunger?”

I nod, then glance back to the flowered handle sticking up from the toilet.

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