Penalty Kicks by D. S. Dehel

Author:D. S. Dehel [Dehel, D. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIN 009916-03217
Publisher: Changeling Press LLC
Published: 2021-07-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

When the buzzer to her apartment rang at exactly five o’clock, her palms started to sweat. She wiped them on her jeans, then looked over her sparsely decorated apartment. Too late now to do anything about it. She peeked at the video screen that showed the entryway, and Matt made her heart race. He was handsome, of course, but casually so, and it wasn’t an affectation of being casual. One hand was tucked in his jeans pockets. The other held some sort of plant.

“Hey, handsome, come on in. I’m the first apartment on your left.” He smiled and looked around for the camera, but seeing none, shrugged, then opened the door when he heard the buzz of the lock opening.

She met him at the door. “Welcome to my incredibly humble one step above a hovel.”

“Good evening, beautiful.” He stopped to kiss her cheek as he passed by, then he paused just inside the door. He held out the pot. “This is for you. Happy housewarming.”

Oh my god, a plant. “Thank you. This pot is really pretty, and I’ll try my best to keep the plant alive.”

“Just put it in a sunny window and water it from time to time, and it should be just fine. Spider plants are hard to kill.”

“You don’t understand. I’m so bad that I once killed a fake plant.”

“How on earth did you do that?”

“I set it on fire.” She studied the long green and white fronds that dangled over the blue and white ceramic pot. “I needed a cookbook from the shelf that also held the plant, so I took it off the shelf and set it on the stove too close to the eye. Some of its leaves caught fire.”

“That is the strangest thing I have ever heard.” He moved as if to grab the plant. “Maybe I should take it back.”

She reluctantly held out the pot. “That might be for the best.”

“I’m kidding, India. It’s just a plant, and I bought it for you. How about this? I’ll come and check on it from time to time.”

“I would really like that. Do you have time for the grand tour? I promise it won’t take long.”

“Sure. We’re on our own schedule anyway.”

She made a sweeping gesture. “Well, this is the living room. My sofa should be here tomorrow.” It looked weird and side-heavy at the moment, with the open space between the two front windows. Against the far wall stood the table she used for both her sewing machine and drafting. At the moment, it was piled with magazines for research and sketches. There was a sizable coffee table, the armchair, a side table with an ornate and completely out of place lamp, and the new flat-screen television she had bought.

“Homey.”

“Not really. Not yet. This way.” She took his hand and guided him across the floor to the first doorway on the right, a journey of all of twelve feet. “The kitchen.” Turning on the light revealed decades old appliances and beat-up cabinets.

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