Chapter Ten
One thing Reese had promised herself when she left Roark was that she would have her basic needs met.
Throughout her whole childhood and into high school, things were shut off abruptly.
Joyce would flake on bills, and Reese would only find out the water was off when she turned the faucet and nothing came out.
Her mother never thought to prepare her for it.
Never seemed to care that Reese was the one who had to walk into school with oily hair, unwashed clothes, and feel the humiliation that stayed with her all day.
More than once, she had tried to drown it out with cheap dollar store perfume, praying no one got close enough to notice what she couldn’t wash away.
It only got worse as her body started changing.
Hair growing where there hadn’t been hair before.
Breasts swelling. The softness leaving her face, only to be replaced with angry acne and skin that always felt greasy.
Then came her period. That had been the worst of it.
Having to stand there and argue with Joyce to buy her pads instead of cigarettes or vodka.
She could still hear her mother hiss, Get them from the school nurse.
As if that were a thing.
Not having a working shower had taken a bigger toll on Reese than she had expected when she moved in.
It wasn’t like she smelled. She showered often enough.
She had a working toilet and sink in the house.
It wasn’t neglect. She was actively trying to fix the problem.
But it still got under her skin in ways she hadn’t been prepared for.
Every time she had to wash in pieces instead of stepping under hot water, something old and shameful stirred inside her.
Progress on the house was slow but steady, and she planned to get a lot done that weekend. Maybe even clear the kitchen enough to use the back door. That would make getting to the dumpster much easier.
She stopped by her house to grab her shower bag and a change of clothes.
She moved as fast as she could, though she wasn’t sure why.
Did she want to beat Matty by getting there, showering, and leaving before she got home?
Or was it just nerves? Something close to not wanting to bother the maintenance woman for too long?
A quick shower and out of there so she didn’t disrupt any more of Matty’s day.
The answer wasn’t any clearer when she pulled into the back parking space of the red brick home on Nixon Avenue.
There was only one small car there. She pulled beside it, choosing the farthest spot away so she could avoid taking someone’s space.
When she stepped out of her car, she looked around to see if anyone was watching her, which was ridiculous.
She had permission from the apartment renter to be there.
Plus, it was Kerrie’s property, so there was no real reason to feel like she was trespassing.
However, the heaviness of the key in her hand as she was about to slip it into the lock suggested otherwise.
With a twist of the key, she pushed the door open and quickly shut it behind her as Matty’s warning about not letting Hester the cat out rang in her mind. She turned to the living space, groped for a light, then flipped it on.
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting the space to look like, but the neat minimalism seemed quite on brand until her eyes landed on two bookshelves crammed with books.
“She wasn’t joking about reading a lot,” she muttered to herself, then jumped when a blur raced across the room. “Hester?”
There was no response.
“Fine, don’t be social.”
Tugging her bag higher up on her shoulder, she looked around.
It was a nice little space with an open floor plan.
The front door led into the kitchen, which branched off into a living room space and a small dining area.
The bookshelves were on either side of the TV and stand, with a recliner and couch in front of it.
A couple of books were on the coffee table, and a navy plush blanket was on the back of the couch.
She could imagine Matty curled up on the couch with a book in her lap and wrapped in the blanket with some soft music playing in the background.
She gave off the vibe that she enjoyed staying in.
She walked over to the shelves, her fingertips tracing the spines of a few. There were so many that she had piled them neatly in double stacks.
“You really like reading,” she muttered.
The furry blur zoomed by again, reminding her that she really didn’t belong in the space. She was wasting time.
There were three doors at the short hall, one straight ahead and one to her left and right. The door to the left was just ajar. She slowly pushed it open.
It was Matty’s bedroom. The bed was made, and nothing was on the floor. Even the pillows were perfectly aligned. The urge to go inside and see more was strong, but it felt like an invasion of privacy.
To her right was a bathroom.
It was minimally decorated like the rest of the apartment, but it was nice. A white and blue striped shower curtain matched the blue rug in front of the sink and the toothbrush holder on the vanity. A white towel was neatly folded next to it. It was a cute little setup.
Curiosity got the better of her as she sat her bag down. She opened the top drawer to find normal things like a hairbrush, a pack of razors, and some floss. There was a bottle of cologne. Cremo Distiller’s Blend.
She lifted the bottle and pressed the nozzle, letting the mist spray into the air.
It drifted slowly, a soft cloud of mist, and she stepped into it before she could think better of it.
Her eyes fell closed as she breathed in.
Woody. A trace of smoke. Something warm under it, like vanilla.
Her throat tightened. The scent wasn’t overwhelming but lingered in a pleasant way.
Perfect for the handywoman. A shiver slipped down her spine.
It had been so long since she’d leaned close enough to another woman to catch something like this at her collar, to let it cling to her own skin by accident.
For a second, standing alone in the small bathroom, she could almost imagine leaning into the crook of Matty’s neck, inhaling it against her warm skin.
Her eyes snapped open, and she shook her head, quickly replacing it as if the bottle had burned her. “Jesus, Haley is right. Maybe I do need to get laid.”
A glance in the mirror reminded her why she was there. Her hair was separated into chunks, glued together by coffee and hairspray. The stain on her blouse may or may not wash out.
She closed the door behind her and began pulling out her shower toiletries. When she opened the second drawer, she was pleased to find a neat stack of washcloths. Of course Matty had extras ready and folded.
Pulling back the shower curtain, she wasn’t surprised to find three bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash lined up neatly on the side of the tub.
She turned on the tap, set her own bottles beside Matty’s, and began peeling off her clothing.
It should have felt more satisfying to rid herself of the damp, sticky bra, but the cool air against her skin only made her grimace.
She left everything in a pile on the tiled floor so her clean clothes in the bag wouldn’t get dirty.
The shower was heavenly.
The stinging hit of spray against her cold skin when she stepped under it caused her to moan aloud.
She stood there for a few extra moments, breathing in the steam curling around her, letting it loosen the tension inside her before she finally got to work.
She had lingered long enough. She needed to get clean.
She was wiping the soapy washcloth over her belly when the bang of a door made her jump. A few moments later, there was a soft knock at the bathroom door and then the sound of it opening.
“Hey, Reese, it’s me.”