Chapter Seventeen
Brock
I loved my new job. It offered work I excelled in, I was appreciated, and best of all, I went in, did my thing, and came home. I really couldn’t ask for much better than that. And as great as work was going, things were going even better with Zeph and me.
We were practically living together—different than actually living together, but still pretty wonderful.
We ate meals together. He packed my lunches some days.
Other days, I packed his. I’d been thinking about opening up the discussion about things becoming more permanent, but it never seemed like the right time.
Until tonight when we came back to my place after a nice steak dinner, and I saw a fluorescent-green notice taped to my door. It was the sign I’d been looking for.
In our complex, the colors of notices indicated their purpose, which meant everybody knew if you were behind in your rent or if maintenance was coming to your place or if power was going to be out while work was being done, or, in this case, the lease was up.
“Everything okay?” he asked as I yanked it from the door.
“Yep. But tonight might be a good time to talk about what’s in this.” I wiggled it in front of him, and then we went inside and sat on the couch together.
I read him the letter, which included a four-hundred-dollar rent increase, which was over the top considering how much they were already getting from me each month.
“I am not saying we should have this conversation now because my lease is up, but it felt like maybe it wouldn’t be a bad time to have it.” I still hadn’t told him what “this” was, but I was working in that direction.
Daddy took my hand. “You sound nervous.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m using you to get out of a lease hike when I ask—”
He put up his finger, indicating for me to be quiet before I could finish my sentence.
Zeph reached in his pocket and pulled out a key chain, one that had to be from the same collection as the glitter monster on my lunchbox. On it were three keys.
“I was going to bring this up before knowing your lease was up, if that makes you feel any better.” He handed it to me. “This is a key to my front door, which you already have, but it felt weird leaving it off. This is for the garage, and this is for the back door.”
I stared at it.
“Will you move in with me?”
There were things to say, lots of things. I couldn’t remember one of them. I climbed on his lap and hugged him tightly and stayed there in silence, enjoying being hugged by him and the moment we were sharing.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he said a minute later and kissed the side of my head.
“Yes, Daddy. I’d love to move in with you.” And then, before we could talk the details out, we opted to use our mouths for something more fun.
Over the next month, I brought a suitcase full of clothes or a box of books with me whenever I came over, trying to make moving day not as horrible as they tended to be. It helped, but moving day still stank no matter the reason or where a person was going.
A lot of my furniture was donated. We didn’t need two beds, and my dresser had come flat packed and put together by me. It was hardly the stuff of family heirlooms. We borrowed a truck to get it all to the donation center. Along with any of the kitchen items I had that were duplicates.
The worst part of moving day was the cleaning.
And it wasn’t that it was dirty or I hated scrubbing floors.
It was that my neighbors had warned me that if the building manager found anything they didn’t think was acceptable, I wouldn’t get my deposit back.
Also, that they went out of their way to find reasons to make that happen.
And while I didn’t need to get it back in order to eat and survive, I very much wanted it.
It was mine. Our friends showed up with kitchen gloves and cleaning supplies, including a steam cleaner, to help us.
That made it much more fun. Well, as fun as cleaning could be. We all got it spic and span together.
“I dare them not to give you back your deposit,” Sammy said, looking quite proud of what we’d accomplished.
I was proud too. It looked better than when I moved in.
“And now we need a reward,” I said as I looked at Daddy.
“And by reward, you mean hot pot and barbecue, obviously.” It was my current favorite.
We all agreed to meet up at our favorite place in two hours, giving me enough time to take care of returning my keys and for others to get the supplies home and clean up.
“This is it.” Daddy pulled the door to my apartment closed for the last time. “Now you’re stuck with me.”
“I’d hardly call it stuck. You’re more like glitter.”
“Even if you think I’m gone, I’m still there.” It was true. He was going to have a hard time getting rid of me.
“I was thinking even more like glitter because you sparkle and make the world happier.”
“I’ll take that, Daddy.” I stood up on my toes and kissed him, stopping only when I heard one of my neighbors open their door. “Let’s go take care of this paperwork, get us some barbecue, and then we can go home.”
Our home…together.