Sure
“We should have an hour. We’ve got to do it fast, though.” Lisa’s movements were quick, assertive. She opened drawers, rooted her hands through socks.
Edgar lingered by the door. He tried to look busy, tried not to watch Lisa as she crawled under the bed to search. Mostly he studied the framed photographs on the walls. They were crooked and edged with cobwebs. They depicted Lisa as a little girl. In them, she mugged for the camera with a boy who was a little smaller than her. She had a gap toothed smile and big eyes. The boy looked feeble beside her. Edgar reached up and straightened a photograph. The wallpaper was yellow behind it. His fingers came back coated with dust.
“Don’t do that! They’ll know we were here,” Lisa shouted. Edgar turned. Lisa had tossed books from the shelf onto the floor. Drawers lay half open, draped with clothes. She dug around behind the dresser, hoisted a wine bottle in one hand. It was half full.
“Sorry,” said Edgar and he opened the nightstand beside the bed. Condoms, three cigarettes, a roll of breath mints, a bottle of sleeping pills, and dozens of pennies. He glanced back at Lisa. She considered the bottle in her hand.
“Do you know anything about wine?”
“No.” Edgar eyed the condoms.
“Damn,” said Lisa. “Okay, well, this is good.”
“Okay,” said Edgar. He didn’t understand. Lisa held up the bottle like it was a prize and marched towards the door.
“Maybe we can do it next time. We can get some condoms from Jessy.”
“Sure,” said Edgar and he slid the nightstand closed.
“You coming?” Lisa’s voice was annoyed like she’d been waiting. “This place is a mess.”
Edgar followed her to the door. He paused to push the disturbed photograph back to its original, crooked angle. The discolored wallpaper was hidden again. He stepped out into the light of the hallway and closed the bedroom door.
“Who was that in the photos?” asked Edgar.
“Oh, God! That place is like a crypt. Can we just get drunk already?”
“Sure.”
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