When Glenn drove up the lane he felt as if he was coming home. In truth he realized that he was. No matter what had happened in the past, no matter what might happen in the future, this house was his home and he had missed it.
He had a sneaking suspicion, as he drove slowly around the side and parked in back, that he'd have a lot of cleaning up to do before it was truly habitable again. It had after all been standing vacant for over two years. But he didn't give a damn. He’d taken a month's leave and fully intended to use every second of that time to turn the place into a real home, one he would come back to whenever he wasn't on a job.
After he'd parked he opened the back of the van to take out the two bags that held the clothes he'd brought with him and carry them onto the porch. Next he got the two cases that held his tools; one held those of his trade, the other those that he'd need to start fixing the place up again. Then he unlocked the back door and immediately checked the alarm box, disarming the system since he'd called the previous afternoon to have the electricity turned on.
He took in what was on the porch, made two more trips for the rest of what he'd brought with him, and began a walk-through to see how well the place had survived his two-year absence. Surprisingly well as it turned out. There had been no vandalism which he had to admit surprised him. A couple of windows were cracked, probably the result of windstorms tossing debris around or birds hitting them. There was water damage in one of the upstairs rooms which meant he'd have to check the roof above it for a leak. All in all he was happily surprised that the house was in such good condition other than a thick layer of dust on everything. He set to work dealing with that amid much sneezing and coughing.
He carried one of the boxes upstairs to his bedroom and after he turned the mattress and made certain nothing had managed to sneak in and make its nest in the stuffing, he made the bed and put out towels in the bathroom. 'Damn, I'm almost domestic,' he thought when he finished and went back downstairs with towels and dishrags for the kitchen.
Clothes were next and he hung them up neatly in the closet. Then he went into what had been his office. With the electricity on, he was able to open the storage closet. Before he'd left he had put the electronics on the shelves. Now he took them out, replaced them with his weapons cases, and locked the door again. He set up the computer, checked that it was working, with the thought that he really needed to get a newer one, and took the television down to the living room.
'All the comforts of home.' He chuckled softly. Not all, but a beginning.
Among other things there was no food other than what he'd brought with him. He had a sudden thought and went to open the refrigerator. "Oh hell," he growled. In his hurry to get out of there two years earlier he hadn't even thought about clearing out the food. Now he had what amounted to major science experiments in there, rancid, stinky ones whose smell turned his stomach. He slammed the door closed. 'Blood and guts I can deal with, that…' He shuddered, very glad he'd only picked up canned goods, cold cereals and bread that could stay on the counter for the time being, once he'd washed said counters down.
By the time he'd finished it was dark outside and he was hungry. He found a pan, opened a can of stew, heated it, and with bowl in hand he went out to sit on the front porch. The evening was still warm and a three-quarter moon lit the front yard.
'Another thing to do in the next couple of days, turn the wilderness back into a lawn.' He smiled as he leaned back against the stair railing and savored being home.
'Yes, this is indeed home.'
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