“Shit. These things are never gonna dry,” Gavin called from the fire escape in Blake’s room. Their clothes had been outside since last night, and they were still pretty damp.

“What?” Blake yelled from the shower.

Gavin walked toward the bathroom, peeking his head through the doorway. He had to admit he liked that Blake had taken to leaving the door open when she showered lately. She’d told him that she couldn’t stand the way the small room steamed up when the door was closed, but he liked to think it had more to do with the fact that whenever Gavin walked by, he’d catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, all wet and warm and…

Suddenly, Gavin remembered he was supposed to be talking about something, but watching Blake rub body wash over her breasts and stomach had caused all thoughts of anything else to vanish. However, seeing Blake’s clothes on the bathroom floor made his memory come back to him. “I said our clothes are never gonna dry out there.”

“How’s that possible? They’ve been out there for over a day.”

“It was a little chilly last night.”

“Oh yeah. That’s true.”

“Plus, it’s still overcast. My jeans are pretty wet. And the white shirt you had on looks like it’s getting rust stains on it.”

She let out a frustrated curse. “That’s my last Reed’s shirt that I haven’t ruined. Can you grab everything and throw it in a trash bag? I was gonna go to the laundromat anyway today. Give me whatever you need washed, and I’ll do it while you’re at work.”

“That’d be awesome!” Gavin said. “You sure you don’t mind? If it’s too much for you to take—”

“You’re acting like I’m offering to be a surrogate for your firstborn. I’m doing laundry.”

The comparison she’d chosen to make was a strange one, but the point had been made all the same. She was a friend offering to throw a few things in the wash for him. “Okay, thanks. I’ll leave the bag in your room. I gotta get going. I’m cursing whichever manager decided to put me in charge of the daycare pictures today. Tabitha and Jamie are doing high school sports teams.”

“Ugh, daycare pictures sound brutal. You should do more than curse them.”

Gavin laughed. “When I need help thinking of my revenge, I’ll be sure to consult you.”

“You better,” she said, followed by, “Have fun.”

“I won’t,” he promised her. “You’re naked and wet, and now I have to leave. I hate this job even more now, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Goodbye, Gavin,” she said. And somehow that made him smile.

* * *

“Morning, Linda,” Blake said after pulling open the door to the laundromat and slinging the gigantic trash bag full of clothes over her shoulder.

Linda looked up from whatever trashy magazine she’d been reading behind the counter. “Well, if it isn’t the emo Mrs. Claus,” she said in the same monotone voice she used every time she spoke about anything. “I’d ask where your elves are, but I’m guessing even they find you intolerable.”

Blake bit the inside of her lip to hold back a laugh, and only when she was safely facing the washers—and away from Linda—did she let herself smile. “You’re a trip, Linda. You know that?” She plopped the bag onto the metal table and began pulling clothes out of it. But she stopped midreach and looked over at Linda again. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it until now,” she said.

“I have no interest in knowing what you’re thinking of, but I know you’ll tell me anyway, so go ahead.”

Blake could barely contain her excitement. “Linda Tripp. That’s your new name.”

“Marvelous,” she replied with her signature indifference.

“Ha!” Blake laughed. “I didn’t even see it until now, but the physical resemblance is uncanny.” She approached the counter where Linda was sitting on her wooden stool. “Straw-like hair, shoulder pads, a face that looks like a cross between John Goodman and Marilyn Manson.”

“You done?”

“Almost. Have you ever wiretapped a phone?”

Linda stared at her, and the silence only amused Blake more. “I’m impressed you even know who she is. I’ve got feces in my large intestine older than you.”

“Well, that’s…gross as fuck.” Blake hardly ever met people who were as odd and disturbed as she was, but she’d met her match in Linda. Which was one of the reasons she went to this laundromat over the one that was two blocks closer to her apartment. The strange Asian man who asked for her help with his crosswords wasn’t nearly as entertaining as the gem sitting in front of her.

Blake returned to the washers and began tossing in some of the clothing. There were definitely at least two loads, and it crossed her mind to separate the clothing so that Gavin’s was in one washer and hers was in another. But she ultimately decided that if she could mix bodily fluids with the man, she could certainly mix laundry.

“Whose boxers are those?” Linda called from her stool. She’d turned her head toward Blake, but her body was still facing the front of the store. She reminded Blake of an owl without the wisdom.

“Your mom’s,” Blake said. The ridiculousness of her comment only made it funnier to her, but she managed not to laugh.

Linda’s expression remained unamused. “I would’ve thought you got yourself a boyfriend if I didn’t know what a miserable sadist you are. So I’m thinking it’s more likely that you started the transitioning process.”

“You’re right about me not having a boyfriend,” Blake said. She finished loading the clothes and turned on the washer. Then she plopped down on a nearby chair, raising her voice so Linda could hear her over the noise. “The sex change does seem like the more likely option. If things go as planned, I’m hoping to have as much facial hair as you by winter.”

“Well, you’re already a dick, so I’m sure it won’t be long before you have one too.”

Blake couldn’t contain her smile this time, so she kept her head down where it had been directed at the phone on her lap. Over the course of the next half hour or so, Linda had to answer the phone twice and open the vending machine for someone when it didn’t give them the soda they’d paid for. It was the most Blake had seen the woman work since she’d started coming here over a year ago.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without that stool stuck to your ass,” Blake said as Linda returned to her place behind the counter.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure it’s better than what you’ve got stuck to yours most of the time.”

Blake thought about asking Linda to explain her comment if for no other reason than entertainment value, but she decided against it. Listening to Linda talk about semen was not on the list of things Blake wanted to accomplish today. Moving the clothing from the washer to the dryer, Blake wondered if there was anything of Gavin’s that shouldn’t go in there, but she figured if he hadn’t given her specific instructions, then whatever she did was fine. She tossed the last of their things into the two machines and turned them on.

“So you still never told me whose underwear you’re washing,” Linda said.

Blake looked up from her Twitter feed. “I thought we already established that it was mine?”

“I’ve decided that can’t be the case. You don’t look like the type to own underwear.”

Blake stared at her blankly for a moment before finally responding. “Okay, that was a good one.”

But before Linda could reply, their attention was drawn to the lights flickering and then cutting out completely. The washers slowed, spinning a few more times before stopping completely just as the dryers had.

“What the hell?” Blake said, along with a few other people who were headed to the storefront windows to see if the power was out anywhere else.

“Looks like the whole street’s out,” said one man.

“You have a generator or anything, Linda, in case it doesn’t come back on soon?” Blake asked her.

“This isn’t a hospital. It’s a laundromat.”

“Well, what are we supposed to do with our wet clothes?”

“You can leave them here, and I’ll finish ’em up for you as soon as we have electricity. But it’ll cost you something just like it would if you dropped them off for me to wash and fold.”

“Listen, Linda.” Blake had been waiting months for the perfect opportunity to say that, and she wondered if the woman even got the reference. “I’m not paying for that. I already paid to wash and dry my stuff. It’s not my fault the power went out.”

Linda shrugged. “Not my fault either.”

Blake sighed as she opened the dryer and began throwing the damp clothing into the big trash bag. She wondered if it would even hold the weight without breaking as she hauled them to the other laundromat. “I’ll dry them somewhere else,” she said.

“Power’s out for blocks,” someone chimed in. “My friend just texted.”

Blake looked at the bag of clothes and then back to the young man who had just spoken. “I’ll figure something out,” she said. “I always do.”