Page 81 of Story of My Life
Levi offeredthe towel-clad Hazel his hand, leaving me to deal with the bedraggled, barking mutt.
“I changed my mind. I want a separate shower and tub. One that doesn’t require a stepladder,” Hazel said, as she did her best to keep the towel securely in place while straddling the lip of the claw-foot monstrosity. I got an eyeful of long, lotioned leg and realized Levi was probably enjoying the same view.
With one swift yank, I brought down the rest of the shower curtain and its hooks. “Here,” I said, shoving it at her.
“Hey!” Hazel complained.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I said, climbing into the tub as she climbed out.
Levi’s grin was sharp and mercenary before it disappeared.
Melvin looked up at me mournfully. “What did I tell you about taking naps in other people’s tubs?”
He sat and held up one gigantic paw.
“You’re an idiot,” I complained as I picked up one hundred-ish pounds of wet dog.
This job was already a bigger pain in my ass than I’d anticipated, and I’d expecteda lotof pain-in-the-assery.
Thudding came from downstairs, and Melvin exploded into a barking fit.
“I thought Gage had a meeting,” Hazel said, wrapping herself like a mummy in vinyl rubber duckies.
“He does. That’s your front door,” Levi explained.
I glared at him over the wet, writhing dog. My brother never used two words when one would do, yet here he was helping Hazel out of tubs and speaking in complete sentences.
Hazel looked down at her attire, a panicked expression on her face.
I started to volunteer, but Levi beat me to it.
“I’ll go see who it is,” he said and closed the bathroom door on his way out.
“Oh, uh, I need to get dressed,” Hazel said, beckoning toward the door.
“Not until you help me dry off this idiot,” I said. “If you open that door, he’ll tear through it and roll on every piece of furniture you have. The whole place will smell like wet dog.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Just get a towel.”
“If he’s such a pain, why bring him to work with you?” she asked.
“Because he was used to going to work with my sister before the accident and now he drives her nuts if he’s home with her all day.”
“Oh,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry?—”
“You gettin’ that towel or do we need to use yours?” I said curtly.
Hazel shrugged the tail of the shower curtain over her shoulder and produced a fresh towel from the linen closet.
“I’ll hold him. You dry,” I instructed in a slightly less antagonistic tone.
No sooner did Melvin’s paws touch the ground than he tried to bolt. It took the two of us, all four hands, and a sacrificed shower curtain, but we managed to get the dog reasonably dry.
I opened the door. The damn dog sprinted for freedom, barking the whole way down the stairs. I slid down against the side of the tub, joining Hazel on the floor.
We both sat there in silence, catching our breath, shoulders brushing.
