Page 16 of First Date: Divorce
“Through this door—” He jerked his head to the door behind him.“—there’s a bathroom.Small but private.”
*
Private was good, she thought as she climbed into the bed with the homework from Pauline.
Still, even with a bedroom and bathroom to herself, she shared this space — his space — with Eric Larkin.She hadn’t planned on that when she’d packed.
First thing tomorrow, she’d shop for a few necessary items for that kind of sharing.
Right after she explored his house.
Only so she’d know how he arranged things.
CHAPTER SIX
TUESDAY
K.D.did not get her full exploring or shopping done first thing, because Pauline had other ideas of how to start the day.She served up coffee, juice, and drill sergeant.
Actually, Eric did the coffee and juice.Also fluffy scrambled eggs and perfectly toasted bagels.
Drill sergeant?That was all Pauline.
But K.D.didn’t know that was ahead when she showered and dressed before opening the door to the hall, carrying the papers she’d studied last night.
The door to the room she’d guessed as Eric’s bedroom was closed.The door to the hall bath, however, was open.
From the hall, she saw the towels were not dropped to the white tile floor, but the hanging job would never pass muster with a neat freak.Not that she was one.Not really.
She stepped into the bathroom and adjusted a towel so it wouldn’t slide off the bar.
The towels were the same dark green as pillows on a couch she’d spotted through an archway last night.The shower curtain was green with abstract sweeps of white and cream.She twitched it back, spotting a grocery store shampoo, soap, a washcloth.
A smooth counter as white as the floor surrounded the sink.Not vinyl, she knew that, but didn’t know what it was.She flipped open the medicine cabinet above the sink.Not the regulation, narrow kind her matchbox apartment offered.But generous in width and depth, with three panels of mirrors.The two on either side could adjust for an all-around view, though he had them flat.
A razor, shaving cream.She mentally catalogued the basic collection of headache pills, a couple over-the-counter packets for allergies, bandages.A Chicago Cubs mug with a broken-off handle held a hairbrush and combs on the bottom shelf.She closed the cabinet door, catching a glimpse in the mirror of the form at the doorway.
Without turning, she said, “How often has Pauline told you that you need a new toothbrush.”
He stepped across the threshold and leaned against the doorframe.“Would you believe me if I said she hasn’t?”
She twisted her neck to look up at him.“No.”
“Four times.Most recently yesterday.By the way, you missed this.”He stepped into the room.It wasn’t a bad size for a bathroom, but it suddenly seemed the only way for two people to navigate it was to stick close to each other.
Reaching in front of her, he caught the narrow front panel of the cabinet directly below the sink and tilted it back, revealing a triangular space that held nail clippers, and small scissors.
“A secret drawer, huh?”
“A wife should know all a husband’s secrets.”
A flash crossed her brain, too quick to be identified.Then she saw something in his eyes that hadn’t originated with his brain.
Uh-oh.
And a second uh-oh, because maybe her flash hadn’t originated in her brain, either.
“Before secrets, the basics.So, first, I need to know your house.”She breezed past him to the hall.
