Chapter 42

Not that he did that, particularly well.

The relaxing part, that was. He’d been running flat out for as long as he could remember and if he sat in one place for too long, he started to get jittery. (Or he fell asleep, but he wasn’t sleepy at the moment.)

He’d gotten his laundry in the wash, did a load of his own dishes, made the bed. And he was sitting in his chair, fingers drumming on the arm. Restless. A spark of lowering sunlight caught the glitter on the floor—Jesus, Andy’s birthday had been weeks ago and he was still finding glitter everywhere—and he got up again. He turned on some music and started sweeping the floor.

As often happened, he found himself singing into the handle of the broom, dancing as he moved around thefloor. He bumped the music up again until he could feel the bass line vibrating into his spine.