33.

I say fuck it and head into the basement. "So here's where the discretion comes in. This basement serves as a boiler room for the house and it's mostly unused. I don't tell the landlord and you slip me two fifty a month and I reckon you could sleep down here mighty fine. I'll fix you a key to the house and put a lock on the door at the top of the stairs so the kid can't snoop and you can actually have a bit of privacy. Now you'll have to come upstairs to use the kitchen, bathroom, or washing machine, but I figure for the price it's worth it. What do you say?" I'm now the one staring blankly. I weigh my options in my head and it really doesn't take me long to make up my mind. "I just don't know..." gets out before he cuts me off with this meager defeated sound. He looks like he just found out his whole family died. "No, you misunderstood. I just don't know if two fifty is enough." His eyes pop open like he's ten years old and they just announced that Christmas is now going to happen once a month. His eyes bulge and I'm honestly afraid they are going to pop out of his head. "I'm also keen on discretion. I notice the old station wagon parked in the drive way. You let me use that once or twice a week and I'll make it an even three hundred. I'll pay for all my own gas of course. And I'll always have to ask you first, no having keys of my own." The aged rusty parts turn in his head and I can tell he's considering his options. After awhile he starts to smile and he extends his hand toward me. "Mum's the word ya know?" He gives me a sly wink and I see myself smile in his eyes. It's a tender moment. I've taken to him immediately. I shake his hand and feel a stability I haven't felt in a very long time, maybe even ever.