He ran to his house and stepped inside. One glance told him it was as bad as he had feared. Boots and jackets were sprawled on the bench and floor, dishes covered the table and newspapers surrounded his living room chair. Every time Leah had come to his house, their visits had been planned and he always had a chance to spruce up the place first. This time that wasn’t the case because he hadn’t expected to see her today, much less invite her over. “Better hustle, Jake.” He snatched up his jackets and hung them on the hooks, then lined his work boots neatly underneath the bench. Dishes rattled and clanged as he gathered the breakfast mess, tossed the dishes into the sink and covered them with a towel. After washing the table down, he flocked the pile of newspapers together and laid them in a neat pile on the coffee table he’d made. Next he plucked his clean undergarments, shirts, pants and socks down from the clothesline he’d rigged near the cookstove, tossed them onto his unmade bed and closed the bedroom door behind him.
