Credence

Another of my DIY projects. The animals seem quite content in their winter homes.

“You going to be okay tonight?” he asks.

I almost laugh.

But then I remember the last time I was alone with both boys at the same time without him.

“Probably not,” I tease. “You should take me with you.”

His gaze turns heated, and I watch as his eyes drop down my body for a moment.

I don’t want to rough it like that exactly, but it wouldn’t be a chore keeping him company.

“I’d spend all my time trying to keep you warm,” he mumbles.

Yeah, probably.

Visions flood my brain of us, a bed, and a fire. Who needs food?

I smirk to myself.

“What?” he asks.

I force my smile away. “Nothing.”

He looks at me suspiciously, and I smile again despite myself.

He rolls his eyes and yanks the strings of my cap down, the top covering my eyes as he walks away.

“I like the hat,” he tells me.

I push it back, feigning a scowl as both of us head out of the barn.

Swiping the page on my Kindle, I hear the buzzer on the dryer go off and reach for the basket. I hesitate, quickly skimming the rest of the paragraph before setting the device down.

Opening up the dryer, I pull out my clothes. Comparative economic systems in various government types… This class might’ve been better taken in person. Not that it’s particularly difficult to follow, but I have questions and talking to the Van der Berg men about world issues would be like watching Yoda get a manicure.

Jake doesn’t vote, because “as long as they stay off my peak, we’ve got no problems.” As if tax laws, pollution, or nuclear war will respect his property line. Noah doesn’t vote, because “that seems like work,” and I’m pretty sure Kaleb just doesn’t care.

Mirai would be good for some conversation. I’m overdue calling her anyway.

I reach in, pulling out the rest of my clothes, and pick up the basket, kicking the dryer door closed before I head upstairs. Once in my room, I dump on the clothes on my bed.

I pick out my jeans and all the clothes that need to be hung up, laying those in a separate pile, and I reach back in, searching for all my underwear and bras.

I sift through the clothes, pulling out my blue lacy pair and the black bra, but as I search through the items of clothing, I don’t see anything else.

I frown.

This load is six days’ worth of clothes. Where did five pairs of panties go?

I search again, finding my two borin

g sports bras, but still, no underwear. They may be stuck in jeans or on some shirts, but as I continue to tear through the pile, I don’t see them.

What the hell?

I stop and think. Jake tore a pair weeks ago in the truck, but that should be all I’m missing. I search my drawers, under my bed, in my bed, and in the bathroom before heading back down to the laundry room and scanning the floor. I check inside the washer and drawer, thinking I may have accidentally left some.