I don’t want what we started to stop, but I don’t know how we can keep moving forward either. I don’t want to jump from the frying pan into the fire. Byron and Frank are completely different in so many ways, but they also have things in common. They’re both much more established, powerful, and wealthy than me. For all the ways Byron made me feel amazing last night, I don’t like the feel of an uneven power dynamic. It’s uncomfortably familiar, even in the afterglow of what we shared.

I give the mattress a tug and slide it into the living room. There’s not enough space to lay it down, so I spend the next hour configuring and reconfiguring the couch, dining room table and chairs, and side tables. Partly, I want the mattress to fit, and also, I like that I can decide where. Our trailer was too small for anyone to have a choice about where things went, but even if we’d lived in a mansion, Mom would have made all the decisions. Frank was very particular about his place, too. I was only ever a guest at the house that was meant to become my home. It never felt like a place where I could move the furniture around.

Finally I settle on putting the dining room table flush against the back of the sofa. It’s not like I’m throwing any dinner parties anytime soon. I really only need to use one chair. Then I put the side tables either side of the sofa, leaving me plenty of room for the mattress against the wall of the living room.

I put my hands on my hips and survey the new arrangement. My chest lifts with pride. It feels good to solve a problem on my own, even if it’s just a problem of interior design.

Someone knocks on the front door, and I jump.

“It’s Mike,” a man’s voice says through the front door.

“And Beth,” a woman’s voice calls.

Shit. I just moved all their furniture around. I hope they’re not mad. I pull in a breath. I can move it back easily enough. I open the door. “Hi. I’m Rosey.”

“Hi, Rosey!” A woman with long dark hair and a really tall guy with blond curly hair grin at me. “We’re here to have a look at the roof. What a lot of rain, right?”

“For sure. Though I’m from Oregon, so…”

Beth laughs. “You thought you’d escaped, but you brought it with you.” She laughs again, but something about what she says makes me want to remember it later. “We’re going to take a look. That okay?”