Page 56 of Secret Squirrel

“You should hire someone. That’s what normal people do.”

“Normal people care,” I said, popping the top of her beer. I handed it to her, taking a drink of my own.

“And you don’t care what your house looks like?”

“Do you?”

She shot me a hard look. “I live with a bunch of other men. My dream is that I can take a shower without one of them barging in and getting in with me.”

I choked on my beer, wiping the dribble from my chin. “They do that?”

“Not all of them. But a few, if they’re in a hurry.”

“And you allow this? I find that hard to believe.”

She shrugged. “I was in the military. Not much bothers me.”

“But you weren’t showering with other men.”

“No, but it’s just anatomy. It’s not like any of them have tried to fuck me in the shower.”

I stared at her, baffled by what she was telling me. This was even stranger than what I first assumed. “You…”

“What?” she asked, looking at me quizzically.

I shook my head because I wasn’t sure what to make of it. All I knew was that I’d never met a woman quite like her.

“So, what’s for dinner?” she asked.

“Steak.”

“Cool,” she said, walking into the kitchen and opening my fridge. “Got any munchies?”

“Help yourself.”

I wasn’t normally so cavalier with my dates, but Rae wasn’t like other women. The more I let things ride with her, the easier it would be to swing her my way.

“So, tell me the real story behind you and your wife.”

As unappealing as the subject was, I couldn’t help but laugh at her brazen attitude. “Uh…not much to tell. I was young and stupid. I married a woman because I thought I knocked her up. When I retired, she had already taken off with the kid, leaving me a note saying the baby wasn’t mine.”

“Young and stupid? Wasn’t this just five years ago?”

“Yeah. What’s your point?”

She took another swig of her beer. “And she left with her baby daddy.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

“Any regrets?”

I shook my head. Looking back on that time in my life, I was desperate to do the right thing. Had I been smarter, I would have gotten the damn paternity test. “Only that she’s related to one of the sweetest women in town.”

“The hairdresser,” she nodded. “Yeah, she’s pretty nice, though, I usually cut my own hair.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” I chuckled.

“And the bimbo?” she asked, jerking her head at the door. “What’s the story with her?”