“Hunter,” Archer shouts from outside. “I know you’re in there, dude. Come on and let me inside before I scare your neighbor.”
I sigh and put down the bag of frozen peas, unlocking the door and returning to my computer desk before my brother makes it inside.
“What the fuck, dude?” He looks around the apartment. I still haven’t gotten around to cleaning up the dust and drywall. I’ve been sucking down ibuprofen and icing my face with frozen vegetables because I don’t yet have an ice cube tray.
“I mean…I knew you were living that bachelor life, but this is…what happened to the ceiling?” Archer gestures around the room.
“Gravity,” I grunt, plunking the peas back on my nose. “I’m not used to it anymore.”
I don’t have any other furniture, so Archer sits on my weight bench. He shakes his head. “Do you even have a broom? Of course not. Come on, man. We’re going to the co-op. You need to stock up your house.”
I sigh and toss down the peas. Archer and I climb into his truck and drive the short distance to the store, with Archer insisting we will need to buy more than two armloads of household stuff. He gives Mary Pat a salute as we walk into the store and grab a cardboard box.
I follow along behind my brother as he tosses things into the box, plucking up a broom from housewares. “Is this made from found materials?”
Mary Pat, hearing me from up front, pipes in, “You’re damn right, Hunter! The Acorns have been spending their afternoons making brooms. They go walk the banks of the creek. Real nice craftsmanship, don’t you think?”
I grunt in response. The Acorns are a group of Oak Creek senior citizens who never mind their own business.
When Archer seems satisfied, he plunks our purchases on the checkout counter. He grabs the membership application and shoves it my way. “I’m just here temporarily, Archer,” I say, frowning.
Mary Pat rolls her eyes and starts laying into me about how the membership discount will pay for itself in just a few weeks of me buying the fancy protein powders she sold me earlier. I can’t argue with her math.
I start filling out the form and she leans forward on her elbows. “Ya know,” she says, watching as I write in my address. “Technically a duplex is one household. If you catch my meaning.”
I pause to ponder what she’s just said and I look up at her. “I do not catch your meaning, Mary Pat.”
“You really don’t know your head from a hole in the ground! I’m saying you pay the membership fee for your household and get a card for your tenant, too. Abigail.” She crosses her arms. “It’d be a real nice gesture, is all I’m saying.”
Archer laughs. “Yeah, Hunter is the king of nice gestures.”
I frown at my brother, but fill out a card for Abigail. Mary Pat is probably just a few years away from her Acorn initiation. I hand her my credit card for all the Castile soap and tea tree bathroom cleaner. I remember the bloody towel and ask, “Do you have something here to remove blood from fabric?”
As we unload our stuff, my brother starts asking me too many questions. He wants to know about my students and my workout. He starts asking about my divorce and, in an attempt to silence him, I blurt, “I saw Abigail without her pants on.”
Archer stands up from where he’d been cleaning up plaster dust. “All right. Now we’re talking. Spill it.”
I explain how I’d failed to test the weight load for the studs where I hung the rings and he throws his water bottle at me. “I don’t give a shit about the calculations—though Dad is going to be super disappointed in you. Tell me about your neighbor’s panties.”
“Well.” I’m unsure how to explain what happened. “She heard me fall and I suppose she rushed over to help. She had a towel on her head.” I hold up the bloody towel that I’d left on the counter.
“And what did you say? When she rushed in half naked to save you?”
“I observed that she was not dressed.”
“Oh my God, Hunter. I cannot with you.” He gathers his things and makes his way toward the front door. “Jesus, Hunter. A half naked woman ran into your house. This is such a fucking missed opportunity.”
As I sift through the products from the co-op, preparing to soak the blood from Abigail’s towel, I think about what Archer said. Missed opportunity. Was he implying I should have…what? How would Archer have gotten Abigail all the way naked? Capitalized on that incident for sex? Could he really be disappointed that I didn’t do such a thing? He knows I don’t understand women or people at all, really.
I’d like to understand Abigail, though. Every inch of her exposed flesh is burned into my memory. What are the chances she’d ever show it to me again> Leaving the towel soaking in the sink, I head off to bed, wondering how disrespectful it is to dream about my tenant’s bare thighs.
I wake up, as usual, to the sound of Abigail singing. I toss her clean towel in the dryer before showering. I estimate that she will head out to work in about 20 minutes, if her routine today is the same as before. Dressing and quickly eating my oatmeal, I grab my bag and the warm towel just as I hear Abigail fussing with her lock next door.
I walk up behind her on her stoop and she startles, yelping as she turns and finds me standing so close to her. “Here,” I say, thrusting the bundle toward her. “I cleaned the towel. I’ve also included a co-op member card for you.”
Her jaw drops and I can tell, once again, that I’ve broken social rules I didn’t know about. Studying me, Abigail takes the bundle and quickly unlocks her door. She tosses the towel inside, where it lands on a small table she’s set up inside the door. I think about how it would be a nice place to stack mail or set down keys. Abigail seems to be able to plan her house layout for how she lives her life. Fascinating.
I realize I’m staring when she coughs and gestures for me to walk on ahead down the porch steps. “So,” she says, sipping coffee from her travel mug. It smells strong, and I like the familiar scent. It reminds me of my house growing up, where my parents always seem to be brewing fresh coffee, day or night. “Is your nose ok?”
“What?” I move my hand to my face. “Oh. Yes. It’s fine.”
I continue walking, and my stride is much longer than hers, so I’m soon well ahead of her on the sidewalk. I hear her yell, “Ok, well I guess I’ll see you later?” Her voice goes up at the end, like a question, and I walk into my office wondering how many mistakes Archer would say I made this morning.