I get the gist of what she’s saying even though I wish I didn’t. “When do we need to be out?”
“Well, like I said, you have seven days to evacuate. Legally, we have up to four days to fumigate and then another four business days to inspect the structure.”
“So I’m out of my house for at least eight days?”
“We go by ‘business days,’ so really closer to two weeks.”
This is getting sticky and messy. Fast. “So, I need to find a place that will take me and my dog, and I have seven days to do it?” A noise behind me startles me, causing me to turn. I’d forgotten momentarily about Duncan being here until I see him standing at the counter giving me a thumbs-up.
“We’ll organize some compensation for accommodation, and I’ll see if there is anything else you have a right to as a tenant.” She pauses, and I can picture Loretta on her end of the phone: she has glasses in my version of her, they’re wire-rimmed and cat-like, and her hair is jet black and pulled back into a tight bun. Matronly but also kind, yet a hint of scary. “I know this is distressing and sudden, and I’m so sorry. I hate being the bearer of bad news, but look…I just work here.”
Way to wiggle out of any accountability. Now where do I direct my anger? “I hear ya, Loretta. Thank you for the call?” I roll my eyes as the words fall out of my mouth. There’s nothing to be thankful about here. Nothing.
I’d had a hard time finding a place to rent that would take dogs, much less a Rottie as big as mine. Toto is a giant baby doll, but tell that to the average Joe walking down the street. Landlords see a dog his size and automatically think “She has no control over him,” yet they have no idea how much training that dog, and I, have been through.
Disconnecting the call, I shove my phone in my back pocket and plaster a smile on my face as I walk back up to the counter. I can feel Duncan’s eyes watching me carefully, so I make a show out of checking my watch for thetime.
“Okay, your time here is almost done, my friend. Levi is going to be here to pick you up in a half hour, so let’s look at your work.” I reach behind the counter, grab the cookbook he’d tried to steal the night before, and slide it across the counter. “Obviously, this is payment today.”
Duncan looks at the cookbook, then drags his eyes to mine. “Do you have to move out of your house?”
Kids. I forget they hear everything.
I nod my head, then shake it as I shrug my shoulders. I’m a mess, but I try to play it cool. After all, I’m the adult here, so he can’t see me sweat. “I dunno? Maybe. We’ll see.”
“You have a dog?”
Smiling, I pull my phone out and show him the picture of me and Toto that I use as my lock screen image. “This is my baby boy.”
“Oh…WOW.” Duncan laughs, taking the phone from my hands. “He’s big!”
“He really is.” I giggle. “Maybe you can meet one day.”
“Yeah,” Duncan says, his eyes sliding back over to the cookbook. “So, I get to have that now?”
“You earned it.”
He pulls it across the counter and flips it open, smiling as he looks at the pages. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” We stand quietly for a few minutes, him thumbing the pages, me staring as he does and thinking about my impending homelessness. “Do you want to tell me why that particular cookbook is the one you wanted?”
I’d be a fool to not see his face cloud over; it’s as if a dark storm cloud has entered the vicinity and is only hanging out above Duncan. His eyes flicker as they look around the room, like he’s batting back tears. I stay still, not wanting to disturb his thought process, but we’re both startled when the bell above the door rings out as a customer comes inside.
When I turn to greet them, part of me is a little surprisedto see Levi with Austin on his heels. Grinning from ear to ear, he holds up a couple of giant to-go cups and shakes them in the air.
“I brought you guys Georgie’s favorite. Fresh squeezed lemonade.” He hands me one before turning to Duncan and handing him his. “From my mom to you. How’s it been going?”
“I was just about to look at Duncan’s work. He set up the table and display for the book signing this week, and”—I pat the cookbook that still rests on the counter in front of him—“he earned his book, didn’t you?”
Eyes on the floor, Duncan shrugs as he turns away from us, putting his back to Levi. Cocking my head to one side, Levi and I exchange a look. I can see in his eyes there’s some confusion, and I'm beginning to understand even more. This is not the kid I’ve been hanging out with the last few hours.
“Dude, we need to make our next appointment,” Austin interrupts, giving me a wave. “Hey, Georgie.”
“Hi, Austin.” I grab a bag from behind the counter and slide the cookbook inside it, turning it over to Duncan and leaning down to talk to him so only he can hear me. I can sense he’s hesitant, and while I want to reassure him, I also want to make sure that what he heard about my housing issue doesn’t become a topic of conversation with the Porters. “This is yours. Anything we say, me or you, when you’re here, that’s for us to know. I hereby deem this our safe space, capiche?”
Holding out my hand, I stick out my pinky. I’m going full-on pinky swear here and luckily Duncan is a fan of this as well. Chewing back a small smile, he wraps his pinky in mine and nods his head once.
“Okay, then.” Standing up straight once more, I wink at Levi. “He’s dismissed.”
