Fuck. I need to get back to work. I don't have time for distractions. And Callie? She's a distraction. She's definitely a distraction.
Three hours later I've cleared everything out of the kitchen and dining room, putting the stuff that might be worth saving in the living room and everything else in the garage, including the old appliances. I called to have a dumpster delivered but they said it'll be a day or two before they can drop it off.
Now that I've cleared out those two rooms, I'm ready to do one of my favorite things. Demolishing. I love the feel of swinging a sledgehammer into a wall. I've decided to tear down the wall between the kitchen and dining room and make one large eat-in kitchen.
I lift the sledgehammer up and slam it into the wall. I'm not a violent person but I admit I was imagining Marissa's boyfriend's face on the wall before smashing it in. He has a long face with a pointy nose. He tried to grow a beard to cover up his lack of a jawline but a month into growing it, he still didn't have a full beard. I can grow a beard in a day. If I let that thing grow for a month, I'd have a beard so thick I'd look like a damn mountain man.
Her boyfriend's one of those metrosexuals I talked about with Callie. I don't know if he has a man bag, but I've seen him carrying around Marissa's purse. There's no way I would do that, and Marissa knew it. I loved the girl, but I wasn't going to walk the streets of Chicago carrying her damn purse.
"Nash?" I hear Callie's voice just as I was about to slam the sledgehammer into the wall again. I check to see where she is, then lower the hammer. She's standing at the entry to the kitchen, wearing her work t-shirt and jeans, which fit tight to her body. Damn, she has a nice body. Small, but with lots of curves to grab onto. I need to stop looking at her that way. She's my neighbor. That's it.
I lean the hammer against the wall. "You should ring the bell next time and wait at the door. This is a work zone and I don't want you getting hurt."
"Oh. Okay." She seems unsure of herself, a complete contrast to how she was earlier. "I didn't think you'd hear the bell with the radio on."
I go over and turn it down. "Do you need help with the garage door? Sorry, I was going to head over there but I didn't notice the time." I walk over to her, but keep some distance because I'm dripping sweat.
"I can get the door. I just stopped by to see if you were coming to lunch today."
"Probably not." I wipe the sweat off my forehead. "I need to stay here and work. I'll just have something delivered."
"Yeah, that makes sense." She chews on her lip and glances back at the living room just behind her. "You got a lot of stuff, or your grandfather did."
"Most of it's junk, I'm sure. I need to sort through it and figure out what to toss."
She nods.
Why is she over here? Shouldn't she be getting to work? I check the clock. It's only nine-thirty, so she'd be early if she left now. So did she come over here to talk to me? I don't really have time to talk. But she has this sad look on her face and I feel bad telling her to leave.
"Do you want a drink?" I ask. "I have some pop in the cooler."
"No, that's okay. I should probably get going. You're busy." She turns to leave.
"Callie."
She turns around. "Yeah?"
"I changed my mind. I'll be there at lunch. I'll stop by during your break, if that works."
Her lips tug up at the sides. "Sure, that's fine. Or if not, then whatever."
"You know I don't like to eat alone."
She smiles. "Yeah. I know."
"Hey, could I ask you to do something for me? I know that's a question but—"
"Only personal questions are banned. You can ask me other questions. What do you need?"
"Is there any way you could drop some stuff off at the laundromat for me? I noticed there's one just down from Lou's."
"You want me to do your laundry?" She sounds both offended and angry. "Do I look like a maid?"
"It's not my clothes. It's the bed linens. They're covered in dust. I about choked on it last night. I just need you to toss them in the washing machines. I'll deal with getting them in the dryers when I get there for lunch. I'll give you fifty bucks to do this for me."
"Fifty bucks just to put stuff in the washers?"
"It's more than one load. I don't know how many it'll be."
"Okay, I'll do it. Do you have it ready?"
"No. Just wait there. I'll be right back." I grab some garbage bags from the box I had in the kitchen, then go upstairs and strip the linens off the bed in the guest room and the master and yank the drapes down. Might as well wash them too. I come down the stairs holding four big bags.
"I'll take them to your car." As we're walking there, I say, "Shit, you won't be able to carry these into the laundromat, will you?"
She stops. "What are you saying? I'm not strong enough?" She lifts the sleeve of her t-shirt and flexes her bicep. "Look. All muscle."