Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
She bites her bottom lip, her gaze darting to the house.
“I’ll just go.” I thumb over my shoulder and take a single step toward the sidewalk, not wanting to make this awkward.
She grabs the sides of her cardigan and pulls them over each other. “No. It’s okay. You can have a look. Just let me make sure the bathroom isn’t a mess.”
Instead of leading me to the front door, she takes me around the back, to the deck with the hot tub. A sliding glass door opens to a formal dining room that doesn’t look like it gets much use. On top of the table are two gift baskets full of treats.
“You celebrate a birthday or something?” I nod to the baskets.
“Or something.” Her cheeks flush.
“Secret admirer?” I toe off my shoes and leave them on the mat at the door.
“Also no.”
“How come I’m not allowed to bring you replacement slippers but this gift giver is allowed to send whole freaking baskets?” I ask.
“Because you’re my student. And if you must know, these are from my ex. If I could send them back, I would.” She waves a dismissive hand toward the table.
“Your ex, huh? Does that mean he’s trying to get you back?”
“Trying and failing. Give me a second.” She disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone with the baskets.
I round the table, checking to see if there are cards attached, but they’ve either been removed or they didn’t exist in the first place. One of the baskets has been opened, with a few items missing. I wait at the threshold of the room until she gives me the all clear. Then I head down the hall.
I’ve been in this bathroom once before, when I retrieved the first aid kit after she hurt her hands. Just like that time, it’s neat and tidy, smelling of Clover’s distinct perfume, or body wash, or whatever it is.
She points to the wall with the window that faces the driveway. It’s one of those frosted-glass jobs, so no one can see in, but it still provides light. There’s an obvious wet mark on the drywall. I press around the area, and it feels damp and spongy. “So, I’m gonna be totally honest with you.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” She clasps her hands.
I knead the back of my neck. “I don’t have a lot of plumbing experience, apart from knowing how to fill and drain a pool and how to use a plunger on a toilet. But you’re right that there’s water coming in from somewhere, and I’m guessing it probably has something to do with the gutters, like you thought. So, if it dries up, you know you’re good, but if it doesn’t . . . Well, either way, I’d call the landlord. And I have a few contacts for professionals if your landlord doesn’t have anyone.”
She nods. “Oh. Well, you’re ahead of me on the plumbing knowledge because mine begins and ends with knowing how to use a toilet plunger.”
“I can give you a number, if you need one.”
“I’ll check with my landlord first, but I appreciate it.”
“Okay.” I nod, then rack my brain for something else to talk about that isn’t plumbing. “Have you had a chance to practice the moves you learned in my class yet?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Do you want to run through them? It’s always good to practice them the week you learn them, so they stay fresh in your head.” I thumb down the hall toward the dining room. “Seems like it might be good to have some practice if you’ve got a persistent ex who doesn’t know how to deal with being dumped.”
“He’s harmless, just annoying.” She taps her bottom lip, maybe considering it.
“It won’t take long. We can run through them once, real quick. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”
She hesitates, but finally says, “Okay. We could do that. Should I change into something less constrictive?”
“Sure. Yeah. That works. I’ll get the living room set up for us.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She steps out of the bathroom, giving me room to leave, then disappears into her bedroom. I move the living room furniture around so we have space to practice the moves without knocking lamps over or shoving breakable things off the tables.
I pull my hoodie off and drape it over the couch cushion. I don’t have any kind of junk protection, but I can improvise.
Clover appears a minute later wearing a pair of capri yoga pants and a Stranger Things T-shirt that slides off her right shoulder as she sets her glasses on the coffee table. She adjusts it, but it falls again almost immediately, so she leaves it where it is. Her long hair is pulled up in a ponytail that hangs down her back. Her feet are bare, her toes painted a pale green. I’m thinking that’s her favorite color.