Chapter 33
Rowan Rafferty teaches Home Economics
Jesse had no idea where the cleaning supplies were when we started, but he sure as shit knew where they were two hours later.
We stood next to the stacked washer/dryer.
“Good. You put all the dark clothes in the washer,” I praised him. “Now, what do you do?”
He picked up a dryer sheet, and I shook my head. He then picked up the bottle of bleach, and I sighed. He tentatively reached for the detergent, and I held my breath. I nodded encouragingly, and he picked up laundry detergent.
“That’s good. Laundry detergent. Now, how much do you put in there?” I asked.
He pursed his lips in thought. “A capful?”
“No. That’s too much and will ruin the machine and the laundry. You only want to put in about two tablespoons worth. These are high-efficiency washers. They don’t take much,” I said. I pointed to the lowest line on the cap. “That’s about two tablespoons. Go ahead. Add the detergent.”
Jesse followed directions and started a laundry load without creating a soap bubble rave in his apartment, unlike our experience with the dishwasher, where he dumped half a bottle of dish detergent in the machine.
Thankfully, I caught him doing it before we turned the thing on.
I felt like I couldn’t turn my back on him, or he’d start another fire.
The dryer beeped.
“Okay. That sound means the dryer is done, and the clothes are ready to be put away.” I said.
“Great. True can get that when she comes home.” Jesse tried to walk past me toward the couch, but I blocked him and shook my head.
“No. What did I tell you?”
He rolled his eyes. “I live here, too. I need to contribute.”
“Exactly.”
“Ugh,” Jesse groaned as he pulled clothes out of the dryer and dumped them into a laundry basket. “This is so boring. Why can’t True do it.”
“You don’t think it’s boring for True, too? Why should she have to do all the boring stuff?”
“Maybe she likes doing things for me?” Jesse countered. “People do stuff for me all the time. It’s not my fault if it’s stuff like laundry.”
I glared at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
It took me another ten minutes to show him how to fold clothes and fifteen to supervise him putting everything away. The place was immaculate. And even though Jesse was a pain in the arse, at least he was learning. Maybe it would sink in, and he’d be a better man for True.
Or Kendra. My traitorous mind whispered.
My gut churned thinking of her ending up with this fuckwit.
“Can we please have a beer now? My wedding is tomorrow,” Jesse whined.
“Fine. What kind do you have?”