Clean Slate

by Heidi Champa

  His soft chuckle made my insides go hot. I tried to picture him in his nice house, phone pressed to his ear. Of course, in my mind, he was naked. For absolutely no reason at all.

  “Thanks. I’ll try and remember that next time I’m eating pizza alone on a Saturday night.”

  His words made me feel awkward, and I worried I’d gone too far. I tried to fix things, backpedal a bit in the hopes of keeping the conversation going.

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to imply it’s better to be alone. I know that’s not true.”

  “Don’t worry. No offense was taken. And being alone does have its advantages. No one to make me watch stupid reality shows or eat sushi.”

  “Right,” I replied.

  I flipped the channels on the silent TV for no reason whatsoever and decided to ask what I really wanted to know.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s stopping you from dating? I mean, someone like you shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone.”

  “Um… well….”

  This time, I was sure I’d stepped over the line, and I immediately spoke up.

  “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. Forget I asked.”

  There was a long, painful silence before he gave a quick chuckle.

  “No, it’s fine. I guess the easy answer would be to say because of Maya, but that’s just an excuse. Truth is, I don’t know why.”

  “Oh.”

  There was a noise on the other end, and I had to pull my phone away for a second. When I pressed it back to my ear, I heard his voice.

  “Look, I was just calling to let you know about the sweater. I should go.”

  I wanted to keep him on the line, to try and fix what I’d fucked up, but I thought it best to just let it go. I’d done enough damage for one night.

  “Oh, okay. Right. Well, thanks again.”

  “And I’ll talk to you later about cleaning out my place,” he said, quickly.

  “Right.”

  “Night, Wes.”

  “Night, Sam.”

  The line went dead, and I stared at my phone, wishing I could rewind the last ten minutes and try the whole thing again.

  CHAPTER 5

  I HELD up a garish blouse, hoping to God that Jocelyn would say I could pitch it in the garbage, but she sat on the edge of the bed and squinted.

  “Oh, I just don’t know. This is so hard. I mean, I love all my clothes,” she said, clearly not wanting to commit.

  I tried to keep my cool. I’d been through this with clients before, but Jocelyn was a handful. I tried to think of a way to be tactful, but it was getting difficult.

  “Jocelyn, sweetie, this blouse doesn’t suit you at all. When did you buy it?”

  She gazed at it before glancing at her perfect nails.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Years ago. I bought it for some tea luncheon thing Phillip’s hospital threw. I haven’t worn it since.”

  “Then don’t you think we can send it to the thrift shop? Remember my rule—if you don’t love it, you should lose it. Plus, it’ll make room for new things. Summer’s coming, you know,” I said, hoping to convince her.

  She grumbled like a child, something she’d done several times already that morning, and slapped her hand down on the mattress.

  “Okay, fine. It can go. You make some good points, Wes.”

  “Thanks.”

  I resisted the urge to ball up the shirt and throw it, instead placing it gently in the donate pile that was far too small. Taking a sip of the white wine she insisted on giving me, I was suddenly happy to be drinking alcohol at ten in the morning.

  “What’s next, Wessy baby?”

  I picked up a pink blazer, and the process started all over again. With each piece of clothing, it was a lengthy decision. After another two hours, we were finally done. I felt like I’d run a marathon. We sat in Jocelyn’s kitchen, which was like something out of a magazine, waiting for her personal chef to finish our lunch. The whole thing felt crazy. My clients in the city weren’t even this eccentric. I sipped my sparkling water and smiled, Jocelyn patting her blonde updo.

  “So, tell me, Wes. Why did you leave the city?”

  I opened my mouth to start evading when the chef appeared with our sandwich wraps. Jumping on mine and taking a bite, I tried to think of an answer. If Daniel was to be believed, anything I told Jocelyn would quickly spread like wildfire, so I knew I had to be careful.

  “Well, my partner and I split up. We worked and lived together, so when we broke up, I decided it would be best if I left.”

  “How did you end up in Dan and Tina’s basement?”

  God, she was relentless. Putting a shine on my situation wasn’t easy, but I knew I had to try.

  “The split was a bit sudden, and I didn’t have time to find a new place. So, Dan took pity on me. It’s just temporary, until I can find a place of my own,” I said.

  She put her hand on top of mine, her meal still untouched.

  “I’m so sorry to hear about the breakup, sweetie. Well, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble getting back on your feet. You do amazing work. I’m gonna tell all my friends. And between you and me, there are some girls who are in need of serious help.”

  She giggled and picked up her wrap, took the tiniest bite imaginable, and set it back down. I guess that’s how she kept her figure. After I devoured my wrap, we went back to her closet and did the fun part: deciding where everything went. Mostly, I listened to her gossip about the neighborhood women and their kids. It was nearly three o’clock when we finished the job. After we descended her grand staircase, Jocelyn pressed a check into my hand and pulled me into a hug.

  “Thanks for today, Wes. Maybe we can have you over for dinner some night. I’d love for you to meet my Phillip.”

  “Sure. That would be lovely,” I said politely.

  “Now don’t be surprised if your phone starts ringing off the hook. Word’s gonna get out about you, mister!”

  I smiled and nodded, the front door flying open before I could turn the knob. Two impossibly tall boys stood there, backpacks in hand. Jocelyn came up next to me, her hand on my shoulder.

  “Wes, these are my boys. Tyler and Drake. Boys, this is Mr. Green’s brother, Wes. Say hello.”

  They grunted at me before heading toward the kitchen. Jocelyn laughed and slapped my shoulder.

  “Teenagers. What can you do? Anyway, thanks again.”

  “My pleasure, Jocelyn. It was fun. Hardly felt like work at all.”

  “Oh, well, aren’t you sweet?” she said.

  I strolled the sidewalk of the cul-de-sac, the warm spring sun shining. I could hear the voices of small children and dogs barking. It was a far cry from the noises of the city I was used to, but I could see why people liked it. I pulled the check from my pocket and unfolded it. My eyes bugged out. It was several hundred dollars more than my asking price. She’d even put a smiley face in the memo line. At this rate, I would be able to move out in no time. Maybe Daniel and Tina were onto something. I got home just as Kelsey got off the bus. There was no sign of Maya. She waved when she saw me, her phone still in her hand.

  “Hey, Miss Thing.”

  “What up, U Dub? How was crazy Mrs. Goldstein today?” she asked.

  “She was fine. And she’s a generous tipper.”

  “Oooh, nice. Her son Drake is hot as.”

  I waited for her to finish the sentence, but she didn’t go on. I knew I’d regret asking, but I did it anyway.

  “Hot as what?” I asked.

  She shook her head and smiled.

  “It’s just what we say.”

  “Of course. How silly of me. It makes perfect sense to end a sentence like that.”

  She shoved me and ran to the door.

  “No Maya today?”

  She shook her head as a text came through.

  “Nope. Dentist appointment. Her dad picked her up,” she said.

  “Oh.”

  Kelsey took off up the stairs before I could say anot
her word, so I retreated to the basement. I kicked off my shoes and put my feet up on the crate that acted as my coffee table. A beep rang out in the quiet, and for a moment I thought Kelsey had snuck downstairs, until I realized it was my phone. I hadn’t had a text in days. When I picked up my phone, my stomach clenched. It was from a friend, someone Nick and I knew, telling me what a jerk I was. I finished reading the tirade when another came through. Then another. And another. Obviously, word had gotten out about me and Nick. Part of me was surprised it had taken this long for everyone to turn on me. Not that I blamed them. I’d brought it all on myself, just like always. Each text was a variation on the same theme—that I was an asshole who deserved to get gonorrhea and be alone forever. Or things to that effect. If my “friends” didn’t hate me before, they certainly did now.

  I read each one, even though I knew I should stop. It served no purpose, other than to hammer the point home that I was a piece of crap. The word immature was bandied about quite a bit. It started to read like a play-by-play of my fight with Nick, some things we’d said spewed back to me verbatim. God, Nick clearly didn’t spare any details. I pictured him gathering everyone together in the apartment and giving them the whole story.

  I was knee-deep in a text about a novel idea for what I could do with a coconut when I heard footsteps on the stairs.

  “Wow, U Dub. Sounds like you’re popular today,” Kelsey said.

  I turned my phone volume down to stop the beeping and set it aside.

  “Yup. You know me. Mr. Popular.”

  She sat down on the couch and looked at me, her face unreadable. I waited for her to talk, but she didn’t, so I gave her a push.

  “What’s up, Kels?”

  “Nothing. I was just bored upstairs. I’m used to Maya being around.”

  “So, do you need me to entertain you? Because I’m sure I could talk to you about boys or how lame your dad is,” I offered.

  She laughed and sighed. There was something off about her, but I couldn’t tell what. I decided to proceed with caution.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked with concern.

  “Jonah and I had a fight.”

  Her eyes fixed on the ceiling, and I could tell she was upset.

  “What happened?”

  Her hands curled into tight fists. Once she relaxed her fingers, she sighed and finally met my eyes.

  “He got all crazy because I was talking to this guy outside English class today. Like, he was acting like I had no right to talk to this guy. It was so stupid.”

  My stomach turned at her description, but I tried to keep it out of my voice.

  “Is it possible that Jonah likes you more than he’s let on? That he wants to be more than friends?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

  She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Uh, duh. Obvi. He wouldn’t have flipped out otherwise. Still, though.”

  “You don’t like him that way?”

  She shrugged and I saw tears starting to form in her eyes. I was out of my depth, but I didn’t want her to know that. She’d never come to me for help before, and the last thing I wanted to do was screw up. I tried to remember what my shrink used to say to me when I was her age, hoping there was some old wisdom stuck in my brain that would help. At the very least, I didn’t want to do any more damage.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I like him, but if he’s going to act like he owns me when we’re just friends, then there’s no way I’m gonna date him.”

  I let out a breath I was holding, thankful that I had such a smart niece. It made things easier for me.

  “Has he done this before?”

  She nodded, and I reached out and wiped a tear away.

  “Does it scare you when it happens?”

  “Kind of. It’s just so random, like flipping a switch,” she said.

  “Does he do it with other people too?” I asked, trying to connect the dots.

  “He flips out for no reason, like, every other week. Last term he went crazy on his best friend for joking about his shoes.”

  “Sounds like an angry kid,” I said, hoping I wasn’t overstepping my bounds.

  “He’s such an asshole sometimes. I mean, he has no right to treat me like that. I can talk to whoever I want.”

  “Damn right you can. And no matter who it is, friend or boyfriend, they shouldn’t be telling you what to do or making you feel bad for having other friends. That’s not what friendship is about, and it’s certainly not what love is about.”

  She wiped her eyes and tried to smile. It hurt me to see her so upset, so confused.

  “I just wish he wouldn’t have to be such a jerk. He had potential, you know. As a boyfriend, I mean,” she said weakly.

  I pulled her close, and she rested her head on my shoulder.

  “You need to tell him how you feel. If he’s a decent guy at all, he’ll apologize and never do it again.”

  “And if he doesn’t apologize?” she asked.

  “I think you already know the answer.”

  She gave a small smile and kissed my cheek.

  “Thanks, U Dub. You’re so old and wise.”

  “Very funny.”

  She stood up and her phone beeped. As she started up the stairs, I stopped her.

  “Hey, Kels. Do me a favor?”

  “What?”

  “Make sure you talk to your mom or dad about this, okay? I mean, I know I’ve offered you some sage-like wisdom, but I’m no expert. They should know what’s going on with you. It might be nothing, but just in case it’s not, they need to know,” I told her, hoping she’d listen.

  She nodded, her face serious.

  “I promise.”

  “Okay, but if you don’t, I will,” I said as a warning.

  “I know, I know,” she said, making me feel a bit better.

  She got halfway up the steps and stopped, sitting down to peer under the banister at me. It made her look younger, like a little girl again.

  “Thanks for listening, U Dub.”

  I looked at her, my heart swelling at her smile.

  “My pleasure, Miss Thing.”

  Kelsey disappeared up the steps, and I looked at my phone. I didn’t want to turn it back up, but I knew I had to. The messages had really piled up, but instead of reading any more of them, I deleted them all without a glance. If Kelsey thought I was a good guy, that I had changed, maybe there was hope for me. Although she was just a kid. What did she know?

  JOCELYN WAS true to her word, and for the next three weeks, I had a steady stream of clients. I cleaned and organized everything from attics to closets to an outdoor shed. The whole neighborhood seemed to be one big, cluttered mess, and I was apparently the only one who could help. Not that I minded. Working was the only thing keeping my mind off my crappy life. The angry texts from former friends had dried up to a trickle, but it was clear that my reputation in the city was well and truly ruined. Which I knew I deserved. Lucky for me, I was being reborn in suburbia.

  “I just don’t know. It’s so much stuff. What do you think I should do?”

  Staring at me with wide eyes was Tanya Forrester, who lived two streets away from Daniel and Tina. She was trying to decide what to do with the piles I’d created in her basement. She was another client Jocelyn had sent my way. A member of her book club or something. The Forresters had a huge basement that was crammed full of so much junk, I would have thought they had twelve kids instead of just three. It was amazing the amount of crap people could accumulate. I’d managed to get things down to a respectable level, but now that the time had come to part with the stuff, Tanya was getting sentimental.

  “Well, the donate pile could go to any number of places. And the trash pile, well, I can haul it to the curb for you if you want,” I said, trying to be supportive. I said it with a chuckle, but she didn’t even smile.

  “I don’t know. Some of this stuff is just so cute. How can I get rid of it?” she asked.

  She picked up a toy t
hat one of her sons had been fond of. Ten years ago.

  “Because your kids are too big to use it. The cuteness could continue with another family, you know. It doesn’t have to end.”

  She looked at me and gently put the toy down.

  “Reed tells me all the time I hold on to too much stuff. But I can’t help it. My kids are growing up so fast. This seems like the only way to remember them when they were too young to tell me they hate me.”

  She gave a weak laugh and started to look weepy. Emotional clients were nothing new to me, but I wanted to try and stop her before the full waterworks started. I put a gentle hand on her shoulder and treaded lightly.

  “Oh Tanya, they don’t hate you. They’re kids. They don’t know what they’re saying.”

  “I know. I just miss my sweet little babies. And all this stuff, well, if I have it, I get to relive it every once in a while,” she said wistfully.

  It was a reason I’d heard a few times before, one that made sense in a way. I knew what Tanya needed to hear, what would make her feel better. Nick had always said I had a gift for saying the right things. I was about to put his theory to the test.

  “You don’t have to forget just because the stuff is gone. Those pictures you have upstairs, those videos on your phone—those are better ways to remember the good times. And they take up a lot less room,” I pointed out.

  “Very true.”

  I could see her calming down and I went on, as gently as I could.

  “Plus, and I’m just brainstorming here, but think of what a great game room this basement would make. A pool table over there, or Ping-Pong maybe? A giant TV for watching football or hockey. Bet the kids would love that. Reed, too, come to think of it.”

  Her eyes lit up, and I knew I’d convinced her. The teddy bear she was clutching went back onto the pile, and she wiped the moisture from the corners of her eyes.

  “You know. I think that sounds like a great idea. You’re a genius, Wes.”

  I let out a breath I’d been holding and knew I’d succeeded. But this wasn’t the time to pat myself on the back.

  “Hardly. Now, what do you say? Do I need to make a trip to Goodwill?” I asked, smiling.