"I mean, no. It's not something I'd do, like regularly. If someone is living with you, they should help out with the cleaning. I'm a neat freak, and I get that no one else is going to do what I do, but I just wanted him to help at all. He did help out more after that, even without the motivation. I think he was hoping for a reward, though.”
I snickered. "Seems a little cruel, Linz. Make him think he'll get rewarded every time he cleans?"
“He's not a dog, Rune."
She laughed. "I mean, you met him."
I spluttered. “Lindsey! Mean!"
"I say it with affection. He was goofy. He was a yellow lab in human form. Cute, funny, goofy, affectionate…but spazzy and not always the smartest crayon in the tool drawer."
"You just mixed, like, so many metaphors."
"I know. I'm funny that way."
"I'm hanging up now, Linz."
"Good. Because you know I won't. I'll just keep on yakking at you unless you hang up on me."
"Which must make you one of those little yappy dogs that are always barking, if we're comparing people to dogs."
"Excuse me! I am not a yappy little dog."
"You're one of those Chihuahuas with missing teeth so their tongue hangs out all the time. With yapping."
She gasped. "Rune Rigby! How dare you!"
I cackled. "Love you, byeeee!" I hung up before she could clap back.
Of course, she's not one to let anyone have the last word—she sent me a GIF of a pug looking demented and inbred, and while she didn’t include anything else, the meaning was clear.
The bitch.
I sent her a selfie of me doing a kissy-face. She responded with a selfie of her flipping me off.
If I didn't just stop responding, though, we'd be doing this for hours, so I just ha-ha'd the image and called Duncan.
My heart shouldn't have gone pitter-patter at the thought of talking to him, but it did.
My lady bits shouldn't be moist at the mere thought of hearing his voice, but they were.
He's trouble, I tell you. Trouble with a capital T, and I’ve had my fill of troublesome boys.
Good thing this whole thing with him has a built-in expiration date—in three days' time I’ll be back in LA and he'll be here, and that'll be that.
He answered on the third ring, sounding groggy. "H'lo?"
"Hi, Duncan. It's me. Sorry to wake you up…again."
"Mmm. Time's it?" A rustling. "Oh, shit. Good thing you did call—I'm gonna be late opening." More rustling. “You're on speaker while I get dressed. What's up?"
"Oh, well, this whole 'the hotel burned down' thing is causing all sorts of issues. Raquel and Hamish are coming back into town from wherever they were camping, but now they have nowhere to stay before the flight to Anchorage tomorrow. You know how small my hostel room is, or I'd let them crash with me. I, uh…don't suppose you have any more ideas?"
He laughed, sounding like he was halfway across the room. A moment later, he spoke again with the phone off speaker. "I might have an idea, let me make a call and get back to you…fuck me; after I get the Kitty open. Like an hour?"
"No hurry. I'm gonna hang out with them when they get here. I'm just hoping you'll come through again. I'm really leaning on you a lot, and I'm grateful."
“Hey, it's all good. I'm glad I could help. I really gotta go now, but I'll call you back when I can. And hey, thanks for the wake-up call."
