Ninety-five degrees, Angie seethed to herself.
It was barely the beginning of June, and it already felt like the Gates of Hell had opened up to swallow her whole. And while Angie knew she was likely to burn in Hell, she wasn't ready to do it just yet.
Clad in the lightest tank top and shortest shorts she could find, Angie sprawled onto the couch and stared at the window her air conditioner should have been in. The very same air conditioner that still sat hidden away in her small laundry room. The air conditioner that Peggy and Howard were supposed to put in ages ago, but never managed to "find the time."
And now Peggy wasn't home.
And the house was roasting.
And, really, standing fans were only effective to about eighty degrees.
In the excessive heat, Angie's usual trick of laying in front of a fan and misting herself with a spray bottle felt more and more like hot angel tears burning her damned skin with every passing minute.
"Fuck," she muttered and tossed the bottle to the floor. The air conditioner needed to be in the window. Now.
But, as always, Peggy was at work. And Angie would be damned if she was going to call Howard to do something that he and Peg should have done at the beginning of May. She'd be more likely to punch him in the mouth anyway, what with his constant commentary through any situation.
She would just do it herself.
With determination burning in her chest—and, really, she wasn't completely convinced that wasn't the heat—Angie rolled from the couch, and marched to the laundry room.
She'd had to move some things—a box of recycling, an old computer tower, and some uncomfortable cushions for their uncomfortable kitchen chairs—to get at the poor, dust-covered air conditioner. She would clean it up once it was in the window. The thing was filthy, but she needed the relief of a cool breeze much more than she needed another chore in this sweltering heat.
Angie bent low to be level with the unit on the bottom shelf and, with a deep breath and a clenched jaw, grabbed it by the edges and tugged. "Holy Christ!" she grunted when it barely moved. She eyeballed it before she readjusted her grip and planted her feet more firmly. With an exceptional amount of effort, she pulled the air conditioner from its cubby and onto the floor in front of her.
"Whoo!" she huffed, mentally preparing herself for the struggle she was suddenly sure this would turn out to be. But she'd started, and she wasn't going to stop and wait for an "I told you so" from Peggy.
She may have been small—and nowhere near as strong as Peggy—but she was still strong enough to do this on her own!
Determination renewed, Angie nodded at the air conditioner and stooped to grab it again. She barely managed to lift one side of it off the ground, but it was enough for her to wiggle it to the door of the laundry room. She grunted and wheezed when she had to lift the unit over the threshold and into the kitchen, the whopping inch or so of difference proving to be quite a challenge for her. She'd only barely managed to get the hulking thing through the door and set it down before she leaned heavily against it.
"How the hell am I supposed to lift this into the window?"
She spent a minute or two considering how she would lift the air conditioner when she made it to the living room. She tried to think of a way to make a ramp or an improvised pulley system, but eventually just decided to figure it out when she got there. At least if she couldn't get it in the window, she knew that Peggy would have to help her when she got home since it would be sitting right there.
Mollified once again, Angie tried to shove the air conditioner across the kitchen floor, only to find herself stuck. She glared at the floor, having thought linoleum would make things easy.
"Of course!" she growled, stomping to the bedroom. She whipped the closet doors open and grabbed a blanket made of fleece, hoping it would make things easier.
Back in the kitchen, she laid the blanket out in front of the air conditioner and tilted the unit to walk it onto the blanket. It took a bit of doing, and some fancy footwork to keep the blanket from bunching up, but she finally managed to get the unit on the blanket. Then it was just a matter of hauling it to the other end of the kitchen.
Thankfully, the blanket worked and Angie managed to slide it to the entryway of the living room with very little trouble.
She sighed and reminded herself she was halfway there, but the uplifting thought was crushed by the sight of the carpeted floor before her. She would have to carry it the rest of the way.
She took a deep breath, the promise of sweet relief strengthening her resolve.
She crouched low, sure to bend at the knees so she wouldn't hurt her back.
"You can do this, Angie," she told herself.
Angie took a final breath and held it as she gripped the air conditioner and, with all the strength she could muster, lifted it from the floor. She only managed a few inches at first, and waddled the few steps into the living room. She had to drop it to the floor almost immediately.
"Christ!" she cursed. Somehow she'd still underestimated how much the dratted thing weighed.
Well not this time! she told herself and she scooped it into her arms again.
Satisfied that she managed to lift it to her hip, and hope renewed that she would be able to get it in the window, Angie shuffled across the living room as quickly as she could. The air conditioner felt heavier and heavier with every step Angie took, but she kept her gaze locked on the window and willed herself to keep hold of it. "Come on! Come on!" she ground out through gritted teeth.
Finally she made it to the window and dropped the ridiculous thing to the floor. She huffed and puffed and briefly wondered over how carrying something heavy over such a short distance could leave her winded. She felt the sweat rolling over her body, not at all pleased with the sticky feeling in her hair as it lay matted against her scalp.
"Okay," she told herself. "Okay. Almost done…"
Angie looked about. "I need… What do I need?"
The baggie of screws to fix the air conditioner to the window frame was taped to the top. Angie nearly clapped her hands together to thank God for the absolutely obsessive way Peggy stored things. From there, collecting a screwdriver from the toolbox and the block of wood to brace the window was easily achieved.
Then came the fun part…
Angie slid the window open and surveyed the ledge. There wasn't much there to brace the gigantic end of the unit, and Angie doubted her ability to keep it balanced while she fixed it to the frame.
But cool air…
She grabbed the screws from the baggie, setting them to hang from her mouth. The screwdriver was tucked into the back pocket of her shorts. The block of wood was nearby.
She looked at the ledge once again.
Maybe if she put something there to help brace the unit. It was long way down, after all.
Luckily, they kept a few bricks in the laundry room, as well, and Angie grabbed a few of those to set on the outside ledge. They were the right height, when turned on their sides, and should help to keep the unit balanced while she screwed it into place.
"All right," she said to the air conditioner. "Here we go."
Once more, she bent and wiggled her fingers beneath it. She rose, slowly, breath escaping her with the effort. She cheered herself on mentally.
She wasn't sure how she managed it, but a moment later, the back end of the air conditioner was perched on the window sill. The plastic framing of the windows made some not-so-pleasant sounds, but she chose to ignore them. A different problem for a different day.
Angie slid the back end of the air conditioner out the window until the front of it was in place. All she had to do was slide the covers out and—
"Jesus FUCK!" Angie shouted, bearing her weight onto the top of the unit—at least, what little of it was left inside—to balance it as one of the bricks fell away. "Christ!" she swore again and prayed no one was walking anywhere below.
The sweat trickled down the sides of her face, and over her eyebrows, probably more nerves now than anything.
"Okay!" she gasped. "It's okay! You're almost done!"
She considered just pulling the damned thing back in and waiting for help.
But no! She was so close! All she had to do was screw it into place and she would be done!
"Okay!" Angie told herself again. She inched her fingers to the slide covers, careful to keep her weight on the top of the unit. "I can do this!" she insisted. She struggled for a minute as she tried to balance the air conditioner and still maneuver her hand. Luckily, she managed, and slid the cover into place. She grabbed a screw from her mouth, and pulled the screwdriver from her back pocket with her ring finger and pinky.
With shaking hands, she pushed the screw into the hole, nearly losing the unit again as she concentrated on getting the head of the screwdriver onto the head of the screw. She sighed in relief as she turned it into the hole, though she worried that the whole window would come out if she lost her grip. Still, it did make taking care of the cover and screw on the other side exceptionally easier, and soon she had two screws in.
Slowly and carefully, Angie lifted herself off the air conditioner. When it didn't fall out the window, she smiled and crouched to put the lower screws into place. She smiled as she twisted the third one into place, a sense of triumph finally rising within her. She'd done it!
But, wait…
"Why in the heck…" Angie muttered. She couldn't get the bottom of the right slide cover to line up with the hole they had drilled the previous year. "Oh, of course!" she hissed.
Angie popped to her feet and headed for the laundry room again to grab her tool box, but double back a moment later. Nervous that the air conditioner would fall without the last screw, she took the block of wood she'd prepared earlier and wedged it above the raised part of the window, to brace it in place. Then, satisfied, she headed for her tool box again.
When she returned to the living room, she carried the bag that held her beloved drill.
"Why would you need a drill?" she remembered Peggy asking the day she bought it.
"Why wouldn't I need a drill?" she'd sassed back.
Angie loaded in the drill bit she would need, smirking at the memory of Peggy ripping the screen door right off the hinges—the pneumatic closer dangling from the door frame—not three weeks later.
With a smug little grin, Angie pulled the cover as far as it would go and lined up the drill. It had only taken a moment for her to drill a new hole and twist in the screw. Then she packed her drill away and stood back to admire her handiwork.
"Finally," she breathed. She smiled at the unit, ready to get it cleaned up and running.
"Angie!" Peggy called as she entered the apartment late that night. "Angie, I'm home!"
She tossed her keys onto the stand they kept near the door and kicked her shoes off to the side.
"Angie?"
"Living room!" Angie called from within.
With a smile, Peggy placed her purse on the stand with her keys and pulled a brick from its depths. "I know you think it's ridiculous that I keep grabbing them," she said as she rounded the corner into the living room, "but would you believe that I found a brick just laying on the sidewalk outside?"
Her steps faltered as she was met with a blast of cool air.
Then her eyes found Angie sprawled on the floor, looking completely relaxed.
"Yeah," Angie said contentedly. "I dropped it out the window."
"Angie," Peggy said sternly.
With a stretch, and some noises that made her sound like a baby dinosaur, Angie opened her eyes to look at Peggy. "Isn't this nice?" she asked, clearly pleased with herself.
"When did Howard come to put this in?" Peggy asked warily.
"He didn't."
"Did one of your brothers?"
"Nope."
Peggy pursed her lips, sure that she already knew what the answer to her next question would be. "Then who helped you?"
"Nobody."
The note of challenge in Angie's voice was clear, though Peggy chose to ignore it. "Angie!" she scolded. "Do you—how could…" She pulled herself together at Angie's raised eyebrow. "How?"
"Oh, it wasn't easy!"
"Which is why I asked you to wait!"
Angie leveled a glare at Peggy. "You would have had me waiting until December!" She gestured to the air conditioner. "So I did it myself."
A moment of silent tension passed, and Angie sat up, a worried expression on her face. "You're not mad, are you?"
"I…" Peggy swallowed the higher end of her emotions. "I'm just glad you didn't get hurt."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Angie chuckled. When she gestured to the spot on the floor beside her, Peggy moved to join her, subtly scanning the younger woman for any injury. "Pinched myself a couple times," she was told. Then, a finger was held up to her face, the skin sliced in a pattern almost like the gills of a shark. "And I cut myself on the vents. Other than that, I'm okay."
Peggy set the brick aside, and rubbed at her forehead to physically smooth her worry away, glad that Angie hadn't hurt herself. She sighed, and looked her lover over once more, just to reassure herself.
"I wish you'd waited," she told Angie. "But I must say, I'm rather impressed that you managed it on your own. It's not an easy task."
"Oh, I noticed!" Angie agreed. She eased herself back to the floor to lay on her back. "That thing is heavy and awkward!" She allowed her arms to lay spread to either side. When Peggy looked over her shoulder to look at her, she chuckled and admitted, "I almost dropped the whole thing out the window, actually. I'm surprised I managed it at all."
Instead of dwelling on some poor unsuspecting pedestrian's brush with death, Peggy laid herself out alongside Angie and pressed close. She played with the caramel-colored curls around the other woman's head, still tangled from the sweat she must have worked up earlier. "You stud," she whispered playfully. Peggy smiled at the grin and hearty laughter she earned, the rest of her worry melting away.
Unable to help herself, she dipped her head to capture Angie's lips with her own, pleased when she was met with an eager response. Peggy quickly found herself with Angie's arms wrapped about her neck—the impressive young woman dragging her ever closer—and her tongue gently gliding along the tip of her own.
"Mm," she groaned into the kiss. A grin stretched her lips as she pulled away from Angie. "You taste sweet."
Angie beamed up at her, clearly pleased with herself. "I made cinnamon rolls."
"Mm," Peggy hummed as she leaned close to Angie's neck.
"I was so happy that the house was cool again," Angie said, though Peggy barely heard her over her sudden need to nudge her nose against her neck and breathe her in. "Don't sniff me," she was scolded. "I probably stink! I haven't showered since I put that thing in!"
"Mm," Peggy hummed again, lips closing over where she could see Angie's pulse racing.
"Peg!" Angie gasped. Her fingers curled into Peggy's hair, pressing hard against her scalp, as the Englishwoman licked along her jugular.
Peggy enjoyed the contrast of taste between her sweet kisses and sweat-salted skin. "Hm?" she grunted, gently nipping the skin beneath her lips.
"Peg!" Angie squeaked. "If you're hungry, the cinnamon rolls are in the kitchen!"
"Mm," Peggy purred, once again. She licked the spot she'd just bitten and bumped her nose against Angie's jaw. "I'd much rather have what's in front of me."
"Charmer," Angie giggled.
"Stud."