Page 99 of Every Now and Then
“I suppose this could work for a few months,” Annabelle comments, eyeing the space.
Backtracking through the dining and living rooms, we walk down a short hallway, poking our heads into the only bathroom in the house. It’s tiny. In the corner, there’s a floor-to-ceiling cabinet with decent storage, but the pedestal sink offers exactly zero counter space.
“How am I supposed to get ready in here? There’s nowhere to put my makeup or blow dryer.”
“Not to mention, there will be three of you all sharing this space every morning."
When we get to the first of only two bedrooms, she stops in the doorway. “The girls will have to share a room, which they won’t like.” Walking into the room, she slides open the closet door to check out the storage space. When she turns back around to survey the room again, she says, “It’s too small to fit two beds, even twin beds, so I’ll need to buy bunk beds, I guess.”
“Yeah, not much room for two kiddos.”
The theme of this entire house is small. It’s going to be an adjustment, moving from a 4-bedroom, 3,500 square foot home into a tiny 2-bedroom, 1-bathroom cottage, even if it’s only for a few months. They aren’t used to living on top of one another, and it’s going to be tight quarters if Annabelle chooses this house.
She sighs, sounding resigned. “I had hoped that there was enough space to bring in more of the girls’ furniture to make the room feel familiar. I guess I can bring in some of their décor.”
“Have you thought about a storage unit? Whether you choose to temporarily move into this house or somewhere else, you won’t be able to bring all your furniture.”
“Ugh, no, I hadn’t,” Annabelle murmurs, rubbing her forehead. The relaxed Annabelle, who spent the morning in bed with me, is gone, replaced by a much more stressed version of herself. “I’ll add it to my to-do list.”
“I can take care of that for you,” I offer, wanting to take something off her plate.
“Hayes, I can do it.” She tilts her head and puts her hands on her hips, staring at me like that’s going to be enough to stop me.
Spoiler alert: it’s not.
Damn, she looks cute,though.
“I know you can but let me help.”
She continues to glare at me.
I see the moment she caves. Her hands drop from her hips, and the corners of her mouth turn up. “You’re a steamroller, Ruston Hayes.”
I stride forward, gripping Annabelle’s shoulders, as I smile at her. “Yeah, but I’myoursteamroller, Annabelle Morris. Now let’s go look at the other bedroom. We need to see if your king-size bed will fit. I’m guessing it won’t. May need to buy a smaller mattress along with the bunk beds. If you want, we can swing by a furniture store later.”
I know that if I told Annabelle outright not to rent Dave’s house, she’d be more inclined to do it just to prove a point.
When she got married and had children, she became financially reliant on Kyle. After his death, she had no choice but to stand on her own, and she’s earned that independence the hard way. She’s not about to surrender it easily.
So, no, I won’t tell her what to do. But I’ll be damned if I don’t help her see reason. And reason says moving into my condo is the best plan.
After a strategic pause, I add, “We should probably measure the living room, too. Not sure about your sectional. Might be too large for the space.”
After checking out the primary bedroom, Annabelle releases another sigh. Ticking things off on her fingers, she says, “Bunk beds, a smaller mattress for me, possibly a new couch."
“Doesn’t really make sense,” I muse, “to buy those things when you’ll only need them for a few months.”
“Dammit, this house won’t work for us,” she says, wagging a finger in my face. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to steer me away from this place, Hayes. Just because I’m not going to rent Dave’s house, that doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to move into your condo.”
I hold up my hands. “Didn’t say it did.”
But she will. And once she does, I’m never letting her go.
After we leave Dave’s house, I point the car in the opposite direction of her home.
“Where are we going?”
“My condo.”
