The washing machines were full in the basement laundry room, all four of them. Cady could wait until later, but she already had the bulging bag slung over one shoulder, the basket with soap and fabric softener in her arms, her pockets jingling with quarters. Ian needed at least one clean shirt for work that night, so she decided to trudge up the stairs and head to the Laundromat a couple of blocks away.
In general, she hated doing laundry, but at least this way she wouldn’t be stuck in the dingy laundry room for a couple of hours. She’d already learned the hard way that the signs that said “don’t leave your laundry unattended” weren’t kidding.
Most people in the neighborhood had been flocking to the Laundromat by the soup kitchen that offered internet gambling while you wait. For five dollars an hour, you could sit at a computer and play all kinds of games for a chance to win up to three grand. There was even a big spin type deal. Lucky regulars who clocked in enough hours could walk away with a carton of smokes or a bottle of booze.
So there were plenty of machines open in the middle of the afternoon at the regular Laundromat that boasted Court TV on the battered screen bolted to the ceiling, and Cady filled two of them. Running to the newsstand across the street, she bought a copy of a magazine showcasing articles like: “Twenty Days to a New You” and “Ten of the Hottest New Looks This Summer”. Satisfied that no one had tampered with her clothes in the short time she’d been away, Cady settled into one of the hard plastic seats and leafed through the magazine.
“Hello.”
The voice startled her; she hadn’t even noticed the guy sit a couple of seats down from her. “Hi,” she replied, looking back down at her magazine, hoping he wasn’t a talker. There was nothing worse than being stuck someplace for a couple of hours with a talker.
“It’s me.”
Cady looked up, her eyes narrowing as she studied him closer. “Do I know you?” She didn’t think so. Dressed in a white t-shirt and cargo pants over scuffed boots, he fit into the neighborhood alright, but he didn’t look familiar. Cute, with short, bristly hair and hazel eyes, he stared at her expectantly before his expression crumpled in disappointment.
“No,” he frowned. “I suppose not. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“That’s okay, it happens,” she smiled briefly, turning back to her magazine. Instead of moving on, he slid into the next seat, leaving only one space between them. “I meant it’s okay that you bugged me once. That doesn’t mean I feel like talking.”
“But you love to talk.” His brow crumpled in confusion.
“I… guess I do, but usually with people I know.”
“How else would you get to know me?” he grinned. “You can call me Ash.”
He really was cute, but come on. Hitting on women in a Laundromat? How cliché could you get? Cady bit back a smile, returning her eyes to the printed word without replying. She didn’t want to encourage him.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to go somewhere and talk?”
“No, thank you.” Now she sounded like Ethan. “I pretty much have to stay here with my laundry.”
“Afterwards then?”
“No, thank you.” Nervously, she chewed on the inside of her lip, not looking up at him, hoping he’d give up.
“No, of course not. Something public. Something safe,” he murmured. “A walk in the park? Or maybe on the beach?”
It wasn’t the usual offer of a drink or a date, and she couldn’t resist looking up at him again. Why was he trying so hard? “No, thanks. I’m not…”
“You’ve given up on men, I forgot,” he muttered distractedly, scratching at his forehead.
“What did you say?”
“You smell so good.” His head dipped forward suddenly. “I don’t remember you smelling this good.”
What a total nutjob… “Um, thanks, gotta love the April fresh scent of Downy.” Cady looked around, wondering if anyone would help if she squawked. “Listen, I think maybe you’d better go sit over there.” Cady gestured to the other side of the room with the back of her magazine, rolling it tightly in her hands in case she had to use it as a weapon.
“What don’t you like about me?” His brow crumpled in dismay, making no sign of moving. “I’m very muscular, and I’ve been smiling plenty. Do I need more tattoos?” He lifted the sleeve on one shoulder to expose more of the design there.
“What?” She had trouble following him, it was like they were having two different conversations.
“Should I have brought you a gift?” he asked earnestly. “I didn’t know where to find wildflowers in this place.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re making me really uncomfortable.”
All at once he seemed to clue into her distress. “This is all wrong.” He lurched to his feet, eyes darting around uneasily. “I’m sorry to have troubled you.”
Cady stared after him, making sure he wasn’t about to double back. She caught the eye of a careworn woman trying to keep two toddlers entertained while her clothes dried. “It takes all kinds,” the rawboned woman shrugged. “At least he didn’t whip it out.”