This is the thirty-sixth part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII, Part XXIII, Part XXIV, Part XXV, Part XXVI, Part XXVII, Part XXVIII, Part XXIX, Part XXX, Part XXXI, Part XXXII, Part XXXIII, Part XXXIV and Part XXXV before continuing.
I took the longest shower of my life, washed my hair three times, and still didn’t feel quite clean.
But I didn’t want to use all of Uncle Phil’s hot water, and I was probably as clean as I was going to get, so I grudgingly turned off the water, toweled down, and got into my clean clothes.
I regarded the dirty clothes on the bathroom floor with extreme prejudice.
Could I burn them?
It seemed the only safe thing to do.
It also seemed incredibly wasteful. I could hear the ghosts of both my mother and her mother screaming at me for even thinking it. They had both been frugal, and now that I had been unemployed for over a month, I needed to start thinking seriously about my spending.
With a sigh, I opened the door to the bathroom, picked up the clothes with as little contact as possible, and carried them to the laundry room where I threw them into the washer.
I went back to the bathroom to wash my hands thoroughly before touching anything else. Then I went back to the laundry room, dumped the maximum amount of detergent I could safely use and set the water temperature as hot as it would go.
I then had to admit I had done all I could, went to bathroom to scrub down the floor where my clothes had contaminated it, then headed to the kitchen for breakfast.
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I saw the kitchen table practically groaning with food.
“Food’s getting cold,” Michael said as I emerged from the hallway.
“You made all this?”
“Jen helped with the last of the pancakes.”
“It smells wonderful.”
Michael pulled out a chair for me with a flourish. I’m not even sure I thanked him, I was so mesmerized by the food.
“What’s your pleasure, m’lady?”
“It all looks so good…”
“Three of everything, coming right up.” He started loading a plate without waiting for a response.
I thought about protesting that it was too much, but my stomach rumbled before I could muster the will to turn down food.
I saw Michael smile at the sound, but he refrained from commenting.
When he placed the plate full of food in front of me, it took everything in me to not dive into it face first.
Once I had stuffed myself silly, I sat back with a groan.
“I’ve never seen a woman eat her weight in breakfast food before,” Michael said with a twinkle in his eye.
“I have,” said Jen. “The aftermath was not pretty.”
I groaned again at the thought.
“Not that you have anything to worry about,” she hurriedly added.
I smiled to let her know I wasn’t offended, but my phone rang before I could provide further assurances. I saw that it was my sister, and excused myself to go take the call in my room.
To be continued…