Chapter 9
9
Janie
THIS WAS PROBABLY a bad idea, but what in hell else was she going to do? The desire to put yet another of her past bad decisions behind her had been so strong she hadn't really thought the whole thing through when Devon made his offer.
So here she was, holding the key to a man's house in her hands for the first time in her life. She didn't like being indebted to anyone, but maybe this wouldn't be so bad. She'd clean Devon's house once every two weeks for the next six months, and then they’d be even.
Sure, this whittled her days off down to one Sunday every two weeks, but it would be worth it. She could check off one more bad mistake rectified and one more debt paid, bringing her closer to finally having her shit together. Would it prove her mother wrong? No, but at this point that was never going to happen. But she would be one step closer to proving herself wrong, which was better than nothing.
Shuf fling around the caddy full of cleaning products she brought along just in case Devon used crappy shit, she slid the key into the deadbolt and twisted it open. After turning the knob, Janie stepped inside, getting her first look at Devon Peters’ private world.
And dropped her caddy of tools to the floor.
"What the fuck?" She couldn't believe what she was seeing. "He's got to be kidding." No way did Devon think an every-other-week cleaning was all he required.
The place was a wreck. Not filthy per se, but certainly not clean. The primary issue with the interior of the mid-seventies tri-level was the chaos. There was shit everywhere. Bags were piled on the floor. Clothes were on the couch. Personal items were stacked on end tables and entertainment centers. The front living room alone would take her all day to clean.
Her stomach dropped. What the fuck was the kitchen going to look like?
Walking slowly so she could take it all in, Janie made her way down the hall leading to the back of the tri-level. Two sets of stairs sat on her left, one leading to the upper floor and one going to the lower level. Past them, a kitchen with an attached dining room took up the entire back end of the ground level. Both rooms were just as bad as the formal living room. The large dining table was covered with mail and the most random assortment of items she'd ever seen. Everything from pencils and pens to makeup and… Was that cat food?
She snapped her head around, but there was no sign of a cat. She wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse.
There were no dirty dishes in the sink, but that was about the only redeeming quality the joined rooms had. The windows were smudged. The stove needed scrubbing. It looked like someone just piled the groceries onto the counters instead of trying to put the items away.
And then there was the floor. The tile itself was pretty enough, but she had a sneaking suspicion the grout lines were not intended to be dark brown.
No wonder Devon was so eager to make this deal. The asshole knew he'd be getting the better end of the bargain. “Motherfucker.” She was pissed. Seriously considering marching her ass to the station so she could lay into him.
But she was also a little excited. It was nothing she would ever admit to him, but the opportunity to whip a place this chaotic into shape had her itching to get started. Of all the dumb things, cleaning had always been oddly soothing to her. She'd failed at just about everything else she'd ever attempted but had always been able to keep her home spotless.
It was an odd thing to be proud of—much like her former pride at never being arrested—but she was. Even though every other aspect of her life was a total shit show, knowing her home was organized and tidy made her feel like she wasn't a complete failure.
And right now, seeing that while Devon seemed to have it all together, his house was a shit show? That sort of made her feel better too. Like sh e wasn't the only one dropping the ball. And since he’d helped her juggle one of her proverbial balls, she could probably help him out too.
But she was still going to lecture the fuck out of him over it.
Going back to the front door to collect her caddy, she carried it into the kitchen, deciding the heart of the home made the most sense to start with. She pulled back her hair and got to work.
It took over two hours to go through all the food on the counters, sorting it by type and size and then doing the same with the food in the cabinets. After clearing out anything that was expired or almost used up, she put every item in place, doing her best to come up with an organizational system that made sense and would be easy for a single man and three teenage girls to be consistent with. Or, at the very least, easy for her to keep up with every two weeks.
Now that the counters were clean, she went to work scrubbing them down, wiping both the surface and the tiled wall behind it. Next were the cabinets. After filling the sink with hot water and a splash of dish liquid, she dipped in a sponge, kicking herself for not bringing a bottle of wood degreaser. If she'd known how the place looked, her car likely would've been packed to the gills with every cleaning product she owned, making the mess a little easier to tackle. But it was probably better she didn't know what was in store, because she might not have made this deal.
Or m aybe she would've made it faster. She’d barely made a dent in the kitchen, and already felt real fucking good over how much better it looked. Not much she'd done in her life made her feel good about herself, but right now she was genuinely accomplishing something. And once the counters and cabinets were done, she stood back and looked it all over, a little smile curving her lips at the difference she'd made.
An unexpected sound put a little damper on her happiness, and had her spinning toward the side door, sucking in a surprised breath as it swung open. Three young girls tumbled into the kitchen, stopping short when they saw her standing there. For a few long seconds, everyone stared at each other in silence, equally shocked at seeing someone else in the kitchen.
Finally, the oldest of the girls stepped forward, brows pinching together as her blue eyes snapped from the newly scrubbed cabinets and counters to where Janie stood. "I'm not complaining, but who are you and why are you cleaning our kitchen?"
Janie shifted on her feet, not quite sure how to respond. "Did your dad not tell you I was coming today?" Devon told her the girls would be gone for the afternoon, assuring her she would have the house to herself, but she'd assumed he'd let his daughters know someone was coming to clean their house.
The older girl shook her head. "No. He told us he was going to do some cleaning before he went to work today." She propped both hands on her hips. "That jerk was going to pretend like he'd been the one cleaning the house."
Janie checked her watch—pleasantly surprised to discover she’d remembered to charge it the night before. Somehow she'd accidentally worked an hour longer than she'd intended. "That is actually kind of hilarious." She shrugged. "And a little brilliant, honestly." She'd intended to lecture Devon over the state of his home when she saw him, but might as well get warmed up now. "Because this place was ridiculous. You three girls are old enough to clean up after yourselves." She crossed both arms over her chest. "Do you just drop things wherever you’re at and then forget they exist forever and ever?"
She wasn't their parent, but for the love of God. The least they could do was pick up their own fucking tissues after they blew their noses. Devon worked hard. It seemed like he was always working. And on the few days he wasn’t, she'd seen him driving these girls all over town. The man did everything he could to make sure they were loved and taken care of. The least they could do was—
She nearly stumbled back.
Holy fuck. She was defending Devon.
The middle daughter lifted her brows, and for a second, Janie thought she was going to argue back. Finally the girl gave her a sheepish grin. "It is pretty bad, huh?"
Janie threw her hands up. "It's fucking awful." She motioned at the bags each girl carried. "Go put those where they belong and come back here . There's no way I can clean this place on my own." She probably shouldn't be bossing his kids around, but it seemed like Devon might need a little help with that too.
And she was hella good at bossing people around.
Janie made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go. I don't have all night."
The girls glanced at each other a second before filing down the main hall. They paused at the closet just inside the door, glancing back her way before opening it. A rush of items rolled forward, piling onto the floor at their feet.
Janie's jaw dropped, but her next reaction came completely out of the blue. She threw her head back and started to laugh, feeling lighter than she had in—ever.
Because Devon Peters—lecturer of lecturers—was just as big of a fucking mess as she was. Only in the literal sense.
The youngest of his daughters leaned closer to her older sister, eyes wide. "I think she's lost it."
Janie wiped at the corner of one eye, pulling in air as she tried to get herself back under control. "Honey, I don't think I ever had it."
She snapped off her rubber gloves and moved to where they stood, shaking her head at the stack of crap they'd been piling up pretending it would never form an avalanche. "I guess I know what you girls are going to be doing tonight." She turned back toward the kitchen. "I'll get you some trash bags."
Collecting a bag from the kitchen, she shook it out as she walked down the hall, intending to pass the task of organizing the closet off to Devon's daughters, but it became clear this wasn't the kind of project they'd tackled before. So she stayed beside them, helping sort through the mess, separating everything out into manageable piles before deciding what needed to stay, and what needed to go. By the time they were hanging winter coats and backpacks into place, someone's stomach growled. Loudly.
Checking her watch again, Janie was shocked to see it was well after seven o'clock. "Are you girls hungry?"
"Starving." The youngest turned to her older sisters. "Can we order pizza?"
"Nope." Janie answered for her. "I just spent three hours going through all the food in your kitchen, so I know there’s plenty here to eat."
The youngest pushed out her lower lip in a pout. "You sound like our dad."
Janie curled her lip. "That was mean." She pointed at the remaining items left to be dealt with. "Why don't you three finish up here, and I’ll make some dinner."
She was sort of taking over, but Devon knew what he was getting himself into when he asked her to come here. At least he should have. If he hadn't already guessed she was the kind of woman who made shit happen, then that was his own stupid fault.
Carrying the three garbage bags worth of trash they pulled from the closet out to the deck, she left them there for Devon to deal with when he got home. Going into the somewhat cleaned kitchen, Janie went through the cabinets, pulling out two packages of macaroni and cheese, two cans of tuna, and then w ent to the freezer, fingers crossed she would find the last item she was looking for.
Devon had plenty of food, but most of it was snack items or ingredients. She could have gone through all of it and come up with something a little fancier than what she had in mind, but there was way more to do than worry about impressing these girls with her culinary skills. She decided to whip up one of her childhood favorites, hoping these kids would enjoy it too. As luck would have it, there was a bag of frozen peas on the top shelf, so she added it to her pile, carrying everything to the stove where she started a pot of water boiling.
As it heated, she grabbed a broom and swept the floor, dumping the collected pile into the trash just as the water bubbled. After adding the noodles, she started on the mail in the center of the table, separating out the junk and dropping it into the trash before draining the noodles and mixing all her items together. As she was stirring, all three girls filtered in, expressions curious as they peeked into the pot.
The middle daughter leaned over her shoulder. "What's that?"
"It doesn't really have a name, but it's something I ate a lot when I was young." She pointed at the cabinet to her right. "Grab some bowls so we can eat and get back to work."
The older daughter lined four flower printed bowls down the counter and Janie scooped some of her doctored-up macaroni and cheese into each one. Once dinner was all dished out, she picke d up her bowl and turned to the still overflowing table. "Where do you guys usually eat?"
The oldest daughter gave her a sheepish smile. "On the couch while we watch television."
Janie opened the silverware drawer and fished out spoons, adding one to each bowl. "Not judging. That's where I usually have dinner too." She carried her bowl toward the hallway. "Come on. Let's go eat." She situated herself on the overstuffed loveseat, waiting until all three girls were seated on the couch before saying, "We didn't really get to introductions. I'm Janie. You probably already figured out your dad hired me to come clean your house on Sundays."
The oldest daughter gave her a little smile. "I'm Riley," she thumbed at the middle daughter beside her, "this is Olivia," then she pointed to their youngest sister, "and that's Gwen."
Janie studied Devon's daughters for a minute. "I'm sorry I was a little hard on you girls. I was just really surprised when I got here. This place is pretty—"
"Disgusting." Olivia finished for her. She grinned, looking unoffended. "We know. Our dad tells us all the time."
Janie leaned forward, meeting their gazes. "If you know, then why don't you help him? He's got a lot on his plate. I know you guys are kids, but—" She stopped short.
What the fuck was she doing? She was lecturing these girls the same way Devon had l ectured her countless times.
But it was kind of for their own good. And fuck if she didn't hate that, because now it had her looking at Devon's lectures a little differently.
Janie groaned, flopping back as she shoved a spoonful of macaroni and cheese into her mouth. "Being an adult is stupid. "