Page 76 of Captivating Anika
“That’s it for the bedroom,” he announces. “Is there room for this in your truck?”
“Yes, we left room on the passenger side. Once you load that up, we’ll strap things down and be on our way.”
Cheddar and Sumo showed up this morning in Cheddar’s truck, and Bodhi showed up a few minutes after in the Jimmy. We’ve been using the Jimmy for some of the smaller stuff, odds and ends we’ve come across.
This’ll be our second run, the first one had the kitchen table and chairs—I opted to leave the dining room furniture behind—my desk and computer, the filing cabinet, some artwork, and the golf clubs I stored in my office. We have all the upstairs pieces loaded up right now. All that is left is the family room furniture for the final run. The stuff in the formal sitting room is not exactly comfortable, nor is it my style, so I’m going to leave it with the house. Franco can decide what he wants to do with it.
Outside, Cheddar already strapped down the things in the back of his truck while we load up the final pieces in the back of mine. I toss Bodhi the bungee cords.
“Go ahead and tie it up. I’m going to peel your sister away from the piglets and we can get going.”
Anika takes her sweet time saying goodbye to the piglets, the goats, and Franco—who supplies her with another box of vegetables—but eventually I get her in the truck and we’re on our way back into town. The others got tired of waiting and already left.
“We’ve got one more load after this, then we’re done.”
“Okay, but I’m hanging back at the new place. Mom says she’ll probably be at the house around four. It’s two o’clock now, by the time we get there and you guys unload everything, three o’clock will have come and gone. I don’t want her standing in front of an empty house.”
I bite off a smile. As much as Anika gets annoyed with her mother, she’s concerned for her as well. I’m not so sure how I feel about leaving her alone at my place to wait for her mom though.
Then again, she’s probably safer there than anywhere else.
Anika
“Jesus, Mom, you’re cooking for four guys, not an entire goddamn football team.”
I watch as Dad brings in another of those aluminum trays from his car. I already helped mom unload three of them from her car. That makes five.
“Don’t swear, Anika,” Mom scolds me, while pointing Dad to where she wants him to leave it.
“There’s only one more in my car,” he contributes helpfully.
Make that six trays. Jesus.
“Those boys are going to be hungry.”
“Mom, those boys are grown men, and they’re not gonna be able to eat a couple of trays of samosas, and God knows what else you have in there.”
“Chicken korma, beef biryani, naan, and the samosas,” she lists. “And leftovers can be frozen.”
Dad drops his last load on the counter, kisses Mom on the cheek, does the same with me, and leaves for his poker game slash pizza night at the senior’s center just up the road from here. It takes place every Sunday afternoon from five to eight, and Dad has been going religiously the past couple of years.
“Oh dear,” Mom exclaims a few minutes later.
“What is it?”
“I forgot the napkins. They’re in a bag on the counter at home.”
“I’m sure Hog has paper towels somewhere.”
We spend a few minutes searching but, apparently, he didn’t pack any. As an alternative, I duck into the bathroom where I find a full pack of toilet paper under the sink and take a roll. Not ideal, but it’ll have to do.
“No,” Mom states. “Not happening. I’m not serving food with toilet paper as napkins. Paper towel is bad enough. No.” She grabs her purse and her keys off the counter. “I’ll run home and get them, but I need you to start heating the trays in the oven.”
My parents live clear across town, but my house is a couple of minutes away on the other side of Florida Road. I’m pretty sure I have a couple packs of napkins in the pantry. At the very least I have plenty of paper towels.
I pluck the car keys from Mom’s hand and shove my phone and house keys in my pocket.
“I’ll go, you do the food. I have napkins at my place. I’ll be ten minutes.”