“Not one word.”
She dropped it onto a chair as she passed.
“Happy?”
I looked at it.
“Thrilled.”
The room for rent belonged to a woman named Renee.
She was about Kayla’s age and worked from home three days a week.
She was about Kayla’s age.
The house was small but clean.
Kayla inspected the bedroom twice.
The second time, she opened the closet and stood there longer than necessary.
Renee showed us the kitchen.
Kayla inspected the bedroom twice.
“I don’t care if you cook late,” she said. “Just clean up afterward. Quiet after 11 during the week. We split paper products.”
Kayla nodded.
“Anything you need from somebody you live with?” Renee asked.
Kayla looked caught off guard.
“Me?”
“Yeah. Anything that drives you crazy?”
Kayla looked caught off guard.
Kayla thought.
“Don’t borrow my clothes without asking.”
“Okay.”
Renee moved on toward the laundry room.
Kayla stayed where she was.
“That’s it?”
Renee looked back.
“What?”
“Don’t borrow my clothes without asking.”
“You don’t want to know why?”
“They’re your clothes.”
She shrugged. “Seems reasonable.”
Then she kept walking.
Kayla didn’t.
I watched my sister stare at the closet door.
“You don’t want to know why?”
For the first time all week, somebody had heard one of Kayla’s boundaries and simply said okay.
