“He probably ordered extra.”
“For who? His four invisible friends?”
Dan reached for his phone again.
I caught his wrist.
“Friday.”
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“Tori, if he had people here…”
“Friday.”
He hated waiting.
That became obvious over the next few days.
We hired a cleaner for Monday afternoon because I wasn’t spending our first day back from vacation scrubbing dried food off cabinet doors.
The cleaner took one look at the kitchen and asked, “Was there a party?”
Dan and I looked at each other.
“I don’t know,” I said.
That answer bothered me.
The ants needed treatment too.
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Nothing dramatic, but enough that we had to pull everything from one lower cabinet and clean behind the baseboard.
The coffee machine was worse.
Dan took it apart Tuesday evening.
Something sugary had dried inside the reservoir and around the heating plate.
“I don’t even know how he managed this.”
“Maybe coffee wasn’t the only thing they put in it.”
