“Right here.” She pointed. “On that purple sticker—preferably before you start the machine.” Astrid shrugged. “It works.”
“Yay. I like his silly face, too.” Nova stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes like the frog statue.
Halley laughed. “Dork.”
The teensiest corner of Charlie’s mouth curved up. “You look just like him.”
“Can we name him Hero?” Nova was very serious about this. “Since he made the water and soap and clothes stop flying all over the place.”
That was when Astrid noticed a pair of red shorts hanging off one of the fan blades overhead. There was a sudsy sock atop Rebecca’s craft boxes stacked on the laundry room’s shelves. And several other items on the floor or stuck to the wall. She couldn’t keep a straight face, no matter how hard she tried. She giggled. “A hero, indeed.”
“You, too, Astrid.” Nova clapped her hands. “Look, Charlie. She brought my bike helmet back and treats from her aunt and her aunt’s dogs, too. And showed us how to do laundry.”
Charlie’s hooded gaze darted her way before sweeping over his girls, the frog and washing machine. He sighed, both hands raking through his hair.
It wasn’t the first time he’d done that—the hair thing. “I didn’t want Nova to miss her helmet.” Astrid shifted from foot to foot and stared down at the water. “And my aunt is an amazing baker. She’s on the traditional side. New neighbors are always welcomed with food and a smile.” She smiled at Charlie.
“That wasn’t necessary.” Charlie glanced her way again, but he didn’t smile.
Halley’s sigh was even more disappointed than the last one.
“And her dogs are really cute.” Nova paused. “One of them is huge.”
“Oatmeal. He’s harmless.” Astrid’s gaze caught on the very blue spot on the pocket of Charlie’s all-but-see-through shirt and his rather distracting chest. While he might be fine staring at her, she was not okay with staring at him or the drastic surge of her stomach flutters that resulted. “Your shirt. There’s a spot.”
Charlie stared down at his shirt, scowled again, and tugged the garment up and over his head. He sprayed the shirt with spot cleaner and moved aside the frog statue, added his shirt to the wash, closed the lid and put the frog back in place.
Astrid watched the whole thing, speechless. Besides his chest being...well, impressive, his barely repressed frustration was obvious by the force he used to throw his shirt into the washer. Astrid had never met anyone so...so mad. He seemed angry with the world. She’d hoped showing him the frog trick would somehow ease the tension but, clearly, that wasn’t the case.
“Can we have some treats?” Nova asked.
“What sort of treats?” Charlie asked.
“Honey apple muffins.” Astrid glanced his way, his dark gaze briefly meeting hers. “A spiced honey pear pie and a loaf of buttermilk honey bread.”
“She made all of that?” Charlie’s confusion was a vast improvement over his scowl. He bent forward, opened the dryer and sighed. “I need to clean up first.”
“Don’t mind me.” Astrid nodded. “I can give the girls a muffin—if that’s all right with you, of course?”
Charlie glanced at the girls, then the basket, and nodded. “One.”
“Yay!” Nova clapped her hands.
Charlie sighed as he brushed past Astrid and headed for the stairs, taking all the tension in the room with him.
Astrid took a deep breath and turned to the girls. “What have you been up to this morning?” She stepped into the kitchen and wiped her feet on the braided rug. “Besides watching Charlie fight the washing machine.”
“Oh, man, I wish my phone was working.” Halley laughed. “It was epic.Allof it. Charlie doesn’t cuss, Mom told him he couldn’t, so he says all this dorky stuff instead.”
“Like ‘son of a monkey’?” Astrid asked. It had been the last thing she’d ever expected to hear from Charlie Driver.
“And fish stick and son of a biscuit.” Nova leaned forward, using her not-whisper voice. “But, I’m not supposed to know them...”
“Asp. Spit-head. Ditch.” Halley ticked them off on her fingers. “Like we can’t figure out what he’snotsaying?”
“I don’t know.” Nova shot her sister a bewildered expression. “I do know an asp is a snake and snakes are really bad.” She wrinkled up her nose and shuddered. “Calling someone an asp isreallybad.”
Astrid laughed as she pulled plates from the kitchen cabinet and carried them to the table. Nova’s rationale made sense. “I don’t want to be called an asp, that’s for sure.” She set four plates around the table. “He’s been fighting with the washing machine all morning?” Which would be reason enough for his temper.
