10:00

It was horrible to behold. An empty closet, hangers dangling and bare like shiny ornaments of death and loss. No, wait, there was an old t-shirt he had bought as a joke in a Wyoming truck stop. Ten years ago. But it was old, ugly, and above all, tacky.

Jack's heart began to race. This was horrible. He had to have something to wear. He grabbed the t-shirt, then slammed the closet door shut. There had to be something in this house he could wear! He couldn't be expected to go around in boxers, could he? That was not decent! He would be arrested for sure, and there was no way a CTU badge could get him out of that fix.

He began pulling drawers out of the dresser. He had socks and underwear. He was good on the socks and underwear. Socks, underwear, an ancient package of Milky Way minis… "No," he murmured. "I need pants. I have to find pants!"

But there was nothing!

"No!" He leaped at the overflowing laundry basket and grabbed the jeans he had worn two days ago. Nothing exciting had happened that day. The jeans were still good. Maybe. He sniffed them. They would do. As long as he wasn't around a woman, they would do.

He grabbed the clothes and headed to the shower. Today he would use the Herbal Essence shampoo and the cucumber-melon body wash he had purchased from Bath & Body Works. He loved that stuff.

10:08

Jack ran some gel through his hair and turned on the blow dryer. Few people realized how much work it took to get hair as good-looking as his.

10:17

His hair looked perfect. No, not perfect. He had gone for the natural look, the look of a man who had just leaped from a thirty-story window and then ran after a terrorist. It was wild and sexy. Oh, yeah.

Well, it was a time to get a start on the day. Like the laundry situation. He really did not feel comfortable in old jeans and a truck stop t-shirt.

He exited the bathroom and stared at the pile of laundry. It was scary. He took a deep breath. If he let it sit there, it was only going to get worse. No, it wasn't. He was wearing the only clothes he had left. So that meant that if he didn't wash this laundry, he would have to wear it.

He shuddered, then knelt down in front of it. Okay, now how was this done? Somehow he had take all these clothes to the washing machine and… no, he was only supposed to take some of the clothes to the washing machine. What was it called? He clenched his teeth and tried to think.

Sorting! That was the word! He had the sort the clothes into different piles, and then he would take the different piles to the washing machine.

Okay, good. He was feeling better about this. He pulled a few items from the main pile.

No. There was more to it. There was a certain way the clothes had to be sorted. Because Teri had always yelled if the wrong shirt was in the wrong pile.

His heart pounded all over again. This was harder than it looked. How had Teri and Audrey and all those other women done it? He leaped to his feet and ran for the phone.

She answered after the first ring. "O'Brian."

Huh? "Chloe, I thought you weren't working today."

She hesitated. "Yeah, well, it's sort of a habit. Why are you calling me?"

He glanced at laundry pile. "Chloe…I need help."

Her tone changed. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Chloe, how do you sort laundry?"

The pause was longer this time. "You called me about laundry?"

"I don't really know how to do laundry." It almost sounded as if she were surprised.

"Where do your clean clothes come from?"

"Well, usually I'm busy so I don't really think about it. But now I have to do my laundry."

Chloe sighed and muttered something under her breath. "Okay, Jack, I want you to get a shirt or something."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "Okay." He grabbed a shirt.

"Now I want you to look just beneath the collar. There should be a tag there, or maybe some print. If there isn't one there, it will be inside the shirt along the seam."

Jack quickly found the tag. "Found it."

Chloe's voice was now very slow. "Now somewhere on that tag it will probably say either 'Machine Wash Warm' or 'Machine Wash Cold'."

"Chloe, this one says 'Gentle Cycle'!"

"Then that is going to go in another pile. Some of them will say that. It's okay. Now look the color of the shirt. Would you call it a dark color or a light color?"

The shirt was blue. "Dark, I guess."

She sighed again. "Now here is how you are going to sort the laundry. You have dark colors, light colors, clothes that should be washed in cold water, clothes that should be washed in warm, and you probably have some whites."

"What about the ones that say 'Gentle Cycle'?"

"Dang it, Jack, those too. Now I want you to sort the clothes by both color and water temperature."

He felt a little better. That wasn't so hard. "That's it?"

"That's all for now. Now I'm going to let you sort your laundry now. Goodbye."

She was such a lifesaver. Jack, feeling somewhere more confident, resumed sorting his laundry. Dark clothes, light clothes, warm water, cold water. Two piles of dark, two piles of light, a pile of whites, and the gentle cycle clothes.

He understood, but it was still hard.

Then, finally, he was finished. He picked up a pile (the light-colored clothes to be washed in cold water) and headed to the laundry room. Now all he had to do was put the clothes into the washing machine and…

No. He caught himself. He had to add the soap first! Oh, yes. He was on top of this. He grabbed the box of tide and opened it.

It was just like the eggs and Pop Tarts.

He grabbed the phone again. He had no idea how to buy laundry detergent. "Chloe…"