I let out a quiet sigh, pulling my hair up in a messy bun, checking my appearance in the review mirror one last time. I wasn't particularly thrilled about playing maid to a stranger . But my aunt had asked, and who was I to argue with a woman who had just had a heart attack? Glancing at the rather worn cabin I couldn't help but feel my stomach drop a little. It looked more like the place belonged as a murder house in a horror flick. But my aunt was adamant I come. Apparently worried about the man that lived there. Always the mother, I thought as I climbed out of the car.

The wooden steps groaned in protest as I climbed them, and the screen door to the veranda creaked upon me opening it. If the place would be fixed up it could be a hell of a beautiful home, yet the owner had clearly neglected the property. Mort Rainey, I was told, an author of crime novels. My aunt told me about his soon to be ex-wife, how ever since their split he had spiralled down into negligent depression. It reflected his surroundings, it seemed, and I didn't blame my aunt for worrying on his behalf.

I took a breath and knocked on the door, waiting patiently as I glances around the area some more. It was silent out here...deserted...beautiful in the morning sun, too. A place I would have loved to live at if my finances allowed it. When no answer came I knocked again, wondering if maybe I had come at a wrong time. But there was a car in the driveway, and it was my understanding that Mort didn't exactly leave the house unless he really needed to. Just as I was about to knock for the third time I heard the movement of life from the inside, and not long after the door was opened

Like the neglected appearance of the house, Mort Rainey was in much a similar state. His chin length dirty blond hair seemed to have a mind of its own, sticking out in every which direction. Dark circles hung beneath tired eyes, and the loose clothing he wore seemed to be a size too big. Even the robe he wore was torn and frayed. It was as if the man had given up entirely on even attempting to care for himself.

I smiled nonetheless, shifting my messenger bag. "Hi,"

He frowned a little, clearly confused at me presence. "I uh...I don't really do private book signings," he said, his voice still raspy with sleep.

It took me a moment to realize that he must have thought I was a fan of his work, "Oh, no-no I'm not a fan," I said quickly. "I'm Avery, Mrs. Garvey's niece." I explained. When no form of recognition crossed his face I knew that my aunt hadn't been able to catch a hold of him to inform him of my arrival. "She's had a heart attack, minor one, but she's in the hospital for a while. So I'm here to take over for a few weeks,"

"Oh, I'm sorry...how is she doing?" Mort asked, though if it was from genuine concern or simple politeness I wasn't exactly sure.

"Good...tired but good. Doctors said she'll be okay," smiling awkwardly I shifted my weight to another foot and began to wonder if he was going to let me in or not. "I hope I didn't come at a bad time. My aunt said as long as it isn't too early you don't really have a preference,"

"No, you're fine I was just..." he trailed off, rubbing his eyes as he stepped to the side, a silent invitation I took. "I'm Mort," he introduced finally, forcing a small smile to his lips as he closed the door.

"Pleasure to meet you," I grinned, looking around at the surprisingly vast and well decorated interior of his home. It looked like Mort, in a strange sort of sense…despite his scraggly appearance, he was clearly a handsome man. And the house, despite the mess of scattered papers and pillows and blankets and an assortment of other knick-knacks, was a beautiful home. "So um... I'll be quick as I can and get out of your hair,"

Mort hesitated, looking at me almost scrutinizing, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I said, hanging my bag on one of the empty hooks.

"You uh...you cleaning any other of Mrs. Garvey's clients homes?"

I felt my cheeks redden a little as I looked to Mort with a sheepish grin, "You're her only client...but if you're asking if she was instant I come by because she's worried about you: I'm sure you already know the answer."

He sighed with exasperation, running his fingers through unkempt hair as he shuffled to the stairs, "Of course she is..."

I couldn't help but chuckle a little as I took off my shoes, setting the worn boots to the side of the doormat. "She means well,"

"Yeah I'm sure she does," he grumbled, pausing on the first step of the stairs. He turned back to me, scratching the back of his head, "Um, I know she keeps some cleaning supplies underneath the kitchen sink. And the rest is stored in that cupboard there," Mort explained, gesturing to a faded green door.

"Thanks... I'll try to be quick," his eyes lingered on me a little, as if he wanted to say something else, but thinking better he retreated upstairs in silence.

I sighed quietly and rubbed the back of my neck, interesting guy, I thought, my stomach giving a slight flip. Cute, too...Aunt Jo never mentioned that...

It took me nearly two hours to tidy everything up and get the cleaning done. I followed my aunt's instructions to a T, made sure everything was in place and orderly and clean. Had a quiet laugh when I saw the contents of Mort's kitchen, too. He was well stocked with Doritos and Mountain Dew and not much else. A kitchen fit for a teenage boy...all he was missing was a Fortnite marathon on a PS4 in the living room. I'll have to pick up some proper groceries next time I come here, I thought.

"Mr. Rainey?" I called, treading up the stairs to where the man had retreated since my arrival.

"Yeah?"

As I came to the landing I found him sitting behind his laptop and came to the quick realization that he had a perfect view of everything downstairs…including my quiet singing and dancing I had done while hoovering. I could only pray to any deity that existed that he hadn't seen any of that. "Just wanted to let you know I'm done," I said with a smile.

In the time that I cleaned his home, Mort seemed to have cleaned up himself a little. His robe was gone, and he wore a fresh set of clothing. Even his hair was a bit tamer than when he initially met me.

"Thank you, and Mort is just fine," he said, lifting his glasses to rub at his eyes a little.

"Well…I'll see you in a few days' time then, and let me know if you need anything else done," I said with a polite smile, turning to leave.

"About that," Mort interjected quickly, "You don't have to come back, you know,"

I turned to him a bit surprised, but more than anything; nervous. I didn't think I did anything to offend him...don't be ridiculous, he's just trying to be nice, I told myself. Even though some part of me still worried that I had in fact done something for the man to dislike me enough to ask for me not to come again. "What do you mean?"

Mort hesitated, scratching his nose, "I just mean Mrs. Garvey-your aunt I mean…I can tell her you've been here an' all…you don't have to come out of your way just to make sure I haven't offed myself yet,"

He really is just trying to be nice, I thought to myself as I smiled at him. "It's really not a bother…hell, it's more of a vacation than anything, if I'm honest." Mort looked at me with confusion and the least bit of curiosity. "Just…been a bit stressed recently…it's-okay," I shifted slightly, leaning against the railing, "If you ever repeat this to her I will deny this shit ever left my mouth but...my aunt having a heart-attack? It's kind of the best thing that could happen to me,"

Mort cast me a weary, albeit genuine, smile.

"I get to house-sit her place, come here every few days to tidy up a little, and have the rest of the time to myself. It's like a free getaway,"

He even managed a chuckle, "Promise I won't say a thing,"

I smiled, feeling the least-bit giddy at his change of mood. He really was a handsome guy…and had a hell of a sweet smile. "Okay then…unless I can do anything else for you; I'll see you in two days' time,"

Mort gave a slight shake of his head, "No, I'm fine, thank you again."

I gave a nod, starting down the stairs with a small wave, "Okay then, take care of yourself," I added.

As I grabbed my messengers bag and put on my shoes, I could have sworn I felt Mort's eyes on me.

And if I were being honest…I don't think I particularly minded it at all.