Page 72 of The Woman in the Hollow
They weren’t.
But in the interest of not lying, she was going to get right on top of redecorating them now.
“Doesn’t the living room couch pull out?”
“I’m afraid I just carpet cleaned the whole thing.”
She was going to have abusyday to back up her lies.
“Oh, well, then. I guess she has to stay here.”
“That’s probably for the best.” I couldhearthe relief in her voice. I couldn’t wait until all this insanity was over so I could tease her about this shit for all eternity.
“Do you need me to bring some more food by?”
“No, we’re set.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“I can cook.”
“You’re going to cook for her?” she asked.
“You did teach me.”
“I did. I did. She’s a lucky girl. Okay, I have to get back to my redecorating. I’ll call later to check on Hazel.”
“Sounds good, Ma. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I shook my head as I moved around the kitchen, jotting down a note in my phone for what I needed from the store. It was a lot. My pantry and fridge were nearly bare. What can I say? I was a single man. And who wanted to spend all the time cooking for just themselves?
I shot off a text to my cousin Smush—Sofia—asking if she could squeeze in a quick shop for me.
I had a feeling we were losing her as our personal shopper soon. She seemed to be gravitating more and more to this one client she had. Enough that there was a lot of scuttlebutt around the family that she might be involved with him.
But as long as I had her, I was going to use her.
So when she agreed, I amended the list with some essentials for Hazel: toothbrush, body wash, changes of clothes, and any other shit she might need.
Yeah, I’ve done this many times before.
That had been her response to the growing list.
And while it might have been common for her, it was all new to me. I found myself pacing around the house, fiddling with things, rearranging things, cleaning things that were already immaculate.
Finally, realizing it was all just nervous energy, I took myself down to the basement.
Flicking on the light, I found old, paint-splattered cement floors, dirty cinderblock walls, and the three pieces of gym equipment I kept at my house.
I loved the gym.
I liked going for a good run.
But sometimes, I was stressed as fuck but also couldn’t leave the house for some reason or another.
My original plan had been to set up a whole home gym, but seeing as I’d never be able to have all the equipment the gym itself had, I’d held myself back and stuck with the basics: a really good treadmill, a bike, and one of those all-in-one home gyms that would allow me to do some strength work without having a dozen dumbbells or plates lying around, just waiting for me to jab my toe into them when I went downstairs to do laundry.
