pigsty?”
“That’s a question you should be asking yourself isn’t it? Or did you really drink so much last night that you can’t remember? You’re acting like brat. How old are you? This is ridiculous, clean up your own damn mess.”
“Don’t you dare to speak to me like that, I’m you’re guardian! I deserve some respect! You’re going to clean this up now, or there will be consequences!”
Robert walks up to us. He looks into the bathroom, and wrinkles his nose. He stands beside Caroline.
“You should listen to Caroline. We do a lot for you, can’t you be considerate enough to do as she asks?”
I’m can barely contain my fury. My voice falls flat. “Leave. NOW.”
They look at me, and start to laugh. “You can’t decide that. Do as I say.”
I pull out my phone and call Don, “I need you at my place.”
Don doesn’t live that far away from me, just a couple of houses down the block actually. My partner is usually the one to handle the adults. He’s a mix of kid and adult and can bridge the communication gap with ease. Right now, I’m going to need his adult side.
“Ooh. Calling a friend? How frightening, and so rebellious,” Caroline smirks.
I give her a grin that doesn’t reach my eyes. She steps back.
Don walks through the door, and Robert and Caroline blanch. He’s a sweet guy, but really tall and intimidating. His whole presence fills the hallway. When he’s angry his voice is as cold as ice, his words come out like sharpened blades. Once he comes in, I know I’ve won.
“What’s the problem here?”
“Oh, the rentals are becoming raging alcoholics and power mad. I told them to leave. They refused on the basis that I don’t have the authority.”
“I see.” Don looks at Robert and Caroline, he doesn’t even bother to glare at them. “You should leave. Immediately. Otherwise you’ll find yourselves blackballed everywhere. And I do mean everywhere.”
I add, trying to hide my glee, “You can take some of your things. I’m feeling generous. You can even have Robert’s car. In fact, I’ll leave with my friend for dinner, and come back in a few hours. Of course if you do anything other than take your own belongings, well…”
I walk up to Don and tug his shirt. We walk to the door and I call Chucho to me. I’m going to take him with me, I don’t trust the rentals.
We head to Don’s house, the cutest one on the block, painted a cheerful lime green. His dog, Dulce attacks us as we go through the door. Chucho and Dulce are best friends. We let them out into the yard, where they begin to play tag with enthusiasm.
“How’d things go so downhill?”
“They saw a bit of what you did last night, and couldn’t handle it.”
“Oh. When I took care of the complication last night?”
“Pretty much.”
Monday night was supposed to be an extraction and relocation, but the girl changed her mind and decided to press charges. She changed her mind because her stepfather caught us, and Don had to take care of him. Taking care of in this case equals beating him up and breaking some bones. Seeing bone jag out and break skin isn’t generally considered the most pleasant thing in the world. The guy may not walk again, if he does it will be painfully. The police brought me in because they thought it might have been some type of vigilante work, and now Austin’s probably going to be my permanent base.
He gives me a side hug, and then goes off to the kitchen to make dinner. I make myself at home on the couch, and get myself a healthy dose of everything food on TV. Halfway through a show about cake, he comes in with two heaping servings of chicken fried rice.
“This is one of my favorite channels, but it’s much better to watch it when you don’t have an empty stomach,” he says as he hands me a plate.
I nod; I’ve been salivating since I turned on the TV. We dig in and watch the rest of the episode. After a couple of hours, we switch to the news. Once it’s over, Don and I head back to my house. Caroline and Robert are gone. We do a sweep of the house. They didn’t take anything important to me. All the important documents and my laptop for EXCOR are in a hidden safe, which they would never have the intelligence to find, let alone break into. Plus, I have video cameras monitoring this room, and I checked them while I was at Don’s.
I look into the hall bathroom, still splattered with vomit. I’ll clean that later. Don decides to stay with me, so we go back and get the dogs and some clothes for him. I make sure he finds the guest room, and then head to the shower. Once I’m in my pajamas, the weight of the day falls, and it’s all I can do to pull up the covers. Chucho snuggles next to me, licks my elbow, and I pull him close. Another couple of seconds and I’m out.
Break
Wednesday morning arrives, but I’m exhausted from the stress of the last two days. Don knocks on my door, but I can’t even leave my bed. He pokes his head in, looks in and tells me I’m not working today. I’m too tired to argue. I lie in bed, and dawn arrives bathing me in a soothing glow. I could lie here forever, and why not, I’ve just gotten then day off.
Chucho, however, has other ideas. He digs at my sides, paws me, and tries to scratch me out of my blankets. I spoil him, I know. He barks at me. I stare at him. He turns his head, waits a bit, then peeks back at me. I give in. As much as I would like to, I won’t stay in bed all day. Chucho practically dances to the door. If he were someone my size, I might kick him. I don’t, and we walk out to the front yard, Dulce following.
I tell them they can play together by themselves, I’m too worn out, and head back in. Don is making breakfast. It smells delicious. I just stand there watching him cook, so hungry I don’t offer to help. Don doesn’t mind, just tells me to go sit down, the orange juice is already on the table. Our dogs interrupt me, pawing at the door, wanting to beg some eggs off us. I let them in, but all they’re going to get is their plain old dry dog food.
Don finishes our omelets, and grabs a plate of toast, bringing them to the table. I dig in, and notice that he’s watching me.
“Please stop that, it’s creepy.”
“You eat too fast. You won’t feel full if you keep eating like you’re starving.”
“Will you stop staring at me then?”
“Sure.”
I eat a bit slower, relishing the food I didn’t have to prepare myself.
“You don’t have to do school stuff either today.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I think I might take our dogs for a little walk after breakfast. When I come back, I’m going to do a bit of cleaning.”
“Not exactly the most restful plan in the world, but I won’t interfere. Do you mind me using your study?”
“Go ahead, I won’t be.”
I take my empty plate to the sink and wash it, along with dishes Don used to cook. Then I call Chucho and Dulce from the couch where they’re getting dog hair over everything to, ‘Go outside’. They immediately run towards me, tails wagging furiously. I put on their leashes, and we head out into the world.
Both dogs half drag me on the way to the park. It’s not very far from my house, and we make it there in a couple of minutes. There are a few elderly couples walking around, stretching their legs. I nod as I pass them. We take our time, the dogs sniffing about, Chucho marking his territory, Dulce growling at old people. The sun is getting higher and burning hot today, so we go back home. Walking helps me wake up, and once we reach the house, I’m at about seventy percent; which I consider a definite improvement from the fifty percent I was before. I settle the dogs, they are thicker than thieves. I make my way to the closet and grab my cleaning supplies. I go to my room and find a handkerchief to cover my nose and mouth.
When I finally get to the bathroom, it smells terrible. I pour cleaner everywhere and wait until the vomit can be cleaned up. I wipe up every bit, and open the window to air out the harsh smells. When I leave, I close the door and block it with a towel; I don’t want the smell to overwhelm the rest of the house.
I pitter an
d patter around the rest of the house doing some spot cleaning. Eventually, I tire and scoot the dogs over for some space on the couch. I decide I can veg for a bit now, and what better than a Buffy marathon? That’s right, nothing. Don is still in the study taking extra calls because he’s filling in for me.
I watch Buffy and am carried along, feeling her feelings. I go through half a season, before I notice that I’m hungry. Lucky for me, Don pops into the living room with dinner.
“You cheated! This is the frozen ravioli that I bought last week!”
“I’m not a slave. Besides you like this stuff, why are you complaining?”
“Because you let me. Now hand it over.”
Don smirks and pretends to hand me my plate. He snatches it back just as my fingers brush the plate.
“Shouldn’t you say something to me first?”
“Thank you. You are a god among mortals. Please may I have my dinner now?”
“You may.” He hands me my plate, and I can’t keep the glare I’m holding in. He just chuckles. That’s Don for you.
We watch a few more episodes before bedtime.
“G’night,” I yawn at him and stumble to bed. I think he says good night too, but I’m tired and can’t hear what he says. It was probably good night.
Waiting
Thursday morning, I wake up, this time to some cat who’s making a lot of noise under my window. Chucho barks back furiously. I haul his butt out of my room, and change into some running clothes. I knock on Don’s door, “Want to