Page 24 of The Reluctant Roommate

“But you started big. Mine was The Vines—an Aussie rock band. They played a pub in Cairns. Not sure if that counts. Your turn.”

“Um…least favorite sport?”

“That’s easy. American football. They show the games at the FlyInn. It’s thirty seconds of action then a long stretch of nothing. I can restock the fridge, serve three customers, and email my mom and when I look up, still nothing has happened. What’s yours?”

“Darts. It seems once you get good, it’s hard to miss the target, and it’s the same thing over and over. You’re wrong about American football, though. Although we just call itfootball.”

“Of course you would.” Heidi took a sip of wine. “Any superstitions?”

“No. I suppose you have some?”

“More family traditions than superstitions. If you put on a piece of clothing inside out, you can’t change it. It has to stay like that all day. Made for some interesting times at school. If the cows are lying down, it’s going to rain, so we used to shout at them to get up. That sort of thing.”

“Not many cows where I grew up. Or in central Denver, for that matter.”

The sun had gone, and the cold was stealing in fast. Morgan shivered. “Let’s go inside before we freeze to the seat.”

Inside was toasty warm. Heidi shed her outer layers and pushed up the sleeves of her shirt. “Dinner will be about forty minutes.”

The chicken recipe was one she knew by heart—her never-fail meal. In a few minutes, the chicken was marinating, the salad washed, and the rice ready to go on.

Morgan slid from her stool. “I’ll set the table.”

Heidi continued preparing salad and smiled as music came over the speakers. Tom Petty. It seemed Morgan was taking a trip down memory lane. She slid the chicken under the broiler and turned on the rice cooker.

Her phone rang. “Hey, Lula.”

“Hey, friend. I’m on my break, so this is quick. But you want to catch up on Sunday? I got wheels today. Nothing special, just an old Buick, but it goes. I could stop by your place, and we could go have breakfast, if you’d like?”

“Congrats on the wheels. And Sunday, I’m working at two, so brekkie sounds awesome. How about you come here? I’ll cook. Does nine work for you?”

“Awesome. I can check out your new living space. Meet the hot housemate.”

Had she said Morgan was hot? She must have. “Sure.” She gave Lula the address. “See you Sunday.”

The chicken was grilling nicely. She turned it, then picked up the remains of the wine and went out to the living area.

Morgan was placing napkins on the table, folding them so the edges aligned. Heidi’s lips twitched. They matched the drapes… In fact, weren’t they the same material? That was extreme interior design.

“I like your Tom Petty revival playlist.” She topped up their glasses.

“Nothing revival about it. I have a Tom Petty playlist on Spotify. Should I find The Vines for you?”

“No need—they sound great in a pub but a bit loud for now. That was my mate Lula on the phone. She’s coming here for breakfast before my shift on Sunday.” Heidi tapped a finger onthe back of a chair. Should she invite Morgan to join them? It would be friendly. Any other housemate, she wouldn’t hesitate. “Eat with us, if you want.”

“Maybe. I always call my parents on Sunday mornings. They’d worry if I don’t.”

Really? That seemed restrictive, but that was what it was. “No worries.” She went back to the kitchen to check on dinner.

A short while later, Heidi pushed her plate back. “I’m stuffed. I cooked too much.” She dabbed at her mouth with the napkin.

Morgan, too, put down her fork. “That was delicious. Love the chicken.”

“I’ll give you the recipe. It’s easy as. Great for when you want to appear like you’re a real cook. Impress someone with your knife skills. Uh…not that I was trying to impress you.”

“No, of course not.” Morgan’s lips twitched. “Roomies don’t need to impress each other.”

“They just need to clean up after themselves.” Heidi poured the last of the wine. “Which I will do. In a minute. Or ten.”