Earnest by Kristin von Kreisler Page A

month or two and leave me stuck with this place in the middle of winter. Nobody rents in the rain.”
    â€œUm . . .” As Jeff collected his thoughts, his gaze went to fly specks on the window. Eye contact was hard when he edged too close for comfort toward deception.
    If he had his way, he’d move out of here in a week and forfeit the rest of this month’s rent. Yet he valued honesty and decency, and he wouldn’t want to leave this man in the lurch. On the other hand, Jeff didn’t know how long Anna would take to come to her senses. He might have to live here for a couple of months or more. If his future truly were not definite, he wasn’t misleading anyone.
    â€œI want to live here. I’ll keep it clean. I’ll pay the rent on time. Earnest and I won’t cause you trouble.”
    When Mr. Ripley exhaled, his belly jiggled slightly. “Oh, all right.”
    â€œThanks.” Jeff clapped Mr. Ripley’s beefy shoulder as he took the lease. He quickly looked it over, signed it, and wrote out a deposit check. Mr. Ripley gave him a key.
    Â 
    â€œAnna?” Jeff called.
    He could tell just from stepping inside the condo that she wasn’t home. Evening shadows darkened the living room, and something felt askew. Instead of the usual warmth, there was an unsettling emptiness. Now that Jeff wasn’t exactly living here, the room itself didn’t seem the same, either.
    Sure, against one wall was the same white denim sofa he’d slept on, and, across from it, the same love seat with a whisper of pink like a blush. The his-and-hers wingback chairs. Anna’s plants. Jeff ’s landscape paintings. Earnest’s wicker bed and its royal-blue pillow. The shelves where Jeff and Anna’s books mingled together.
    But Jeff felt like he was trespassing on someone else’s property, and he didn’t quite belong here anymore. Uneasy, he went to the bathroom and packed his toiletries bag, including Pepcid for stressful days like the last two, and ZzzQuil if the stress kept him awake. From the bedroom closet he got pajamas and a change of clothes. Tomorrow after work he’d come back for more.
    He stopped in the kitchen and made a chicken sandwich, which he ate standing at the counter. In the quiet, he could hear himself chew. He felt slightly furtive. If Anna came home and found him, he should probably bolt out the door.
    In the garage, he stopped at his and Anna’s storage locker and rummaged through the camping gear. In a plastic bin he found their sleeping bags, and it did not escape his notice that they seemed to be snuggling, as he and Anna had on camping trips when they’d zipped the bags together.
    Pulling his bag out of the bin and leaving Anna’s behind depressed him. Easy, man, he comforted himself. You’ll be camping with her again before long.
    He told himself again that his move was temporary. He would soon be back in his and Anna’s bed. As usual, Earnest would start the evening snoring innocently on the rug. But as the night got cooler and Jeff and Anna’s sleep got deeper, Earnest would sneak up on their bed and wriggle between them so they made a sandwich, Earnest the ham and Jeff and Anna the bread. Those were the coziest times, the three of them cuddled up together in their nest. Jeff warmed at the memory. What he wouldn’t give to sleep like that tonight.

C HAPTER 11
    N o one would have known that Earnest had inhaled smoke. He pranced down the hall the best he could with his burned paw and plastic cone, and he burst into Plant Parenthood to reclaim his kingdom. But then he paused, moved his head around, and peered out the cone at Anna’s shop.
    He looked up at her with a puzzled expression. What the devil has happened here?
    â€œThe fire, Sweetie. Remember?”
    Earnest aimed his charcoal-lump nose toward the floor and tried to sniff his way to what had been Anna’s houseplant jungle. Now only Edgar and