SIERRA'S LEONE

ROOMMATES

Jonas wanted to make himself useful. As Sierra asked, he cleaned up after himself. Sierra, on the other hand, did not do much. The man naively believed the woman accepted his help and lifted her foot off the tidying pedal.

"What are you doing?" Sierra asked, looking down at the man who emptied clothes into the washing machine.

"I'm doing the laundry."

"I see that, but why are my belongings there?"

Jonas looked up and got up at the same time from his kneeling position, "I've got two pairs of jeans, three tees, five trunks, and four shirts to wash. I'm not going to wash them alone."

"You don't need to add mine," Sierra said and proceeded to snatch her dark rinse slim pants from Jonas's hands.

The man smiled, "Sierra, don't be silly. Your clothes have been in the laundry basket for a week now. I mean, where do you wash your clothes? I know you've never used the machine since I'm the one who took out the bubble paper and in the manual that was inside the tumbler."

Sierra crossed her arms, "I go to the dry cleaners."

Jonas blinked; he was not sure he heard right, "you go where?"

"To the dry cleaners."

"So you're telling me you take jeans and tees to the dry cleaners?"

"Yep, I take all my stuff."

Jonas looked down at the clothes basket where Sierra's navy blue bra sat proudly on top of the heap like a cherry on a cake, "when you say stuff, does that include your lingerie?"

Sierra stifled a laugh even she did not use the old-fashioned word, "yeah, I take my undies there too."

"Wow, what a waste of money, and ecologically the solution is not the best," Jonas said with his know-it-all voice emphasized by his pronounced Swedish accent.

Sierra's eyes widened to give Jonas her whatever glare, "well, I don't have the time. The clothes become back ironed and all. It's practical."

"This is just,ㅡwait a minute, how about Leone's stuff?"

"Same."

The man suddenly regained his composure, "okay, Sierra, I know you don't want me to interfere but can I,ㅡ," Jonas pondered for a second. He had to find a subtle and diplomatic way to say it.

Sierra cocked a brow, "can you what?"

"How about I do the laundry for us all?"

Sierra tilted her head to the side as she imagined Jonas portraying Mrs. Doubtfire, "why would you do that?"

"I told you, I want to help."

Sierra did not know whether she should say yes or no. Was it a trap or a genuine intent? Every one of Jonas's actions had her wondering.

"Come on, Sierra, I don't mind doing it. It really isn't a chore for me."

Jonas pushed the vice, he was not much of a fan of the task, but he had no choice. He could not let them dry cleaner's aberration carry on.

"Okay, okay, do as you wish, but please leave my lingerie," Sierra said with an imitation of a posh victorian style voice when she pronounced the last word.

"I know how to do a delicate cycle. You can give me your hosiery, too, if you have a pouch."

"A pouch, hosiery?"

The man opted for a synonym, "tights."

"Jonas Iㅡ."

"We're roommates. There's no need to be shy," said the man who internally blushed with all his might. Jonas said and did things that were totally out of his character since he arrived in France.

Even though he came from a family with younger siblings, the man was a loner.

He talked and mingled little. Cecile was the one who brought the man out of his shell. Despite that, he still had to combat his timidity.

Here the conversation he held demanded. For Sierra, too, things were not simple. She found herself having to compose and compromise with Jonas's character. The woman lived alone. Thus, she never had to discuss anything.

Her relationship with Vincent was a succession of sleepovers where no one overstayed beyond the forty-eight-hour mark. Jonas was there for six months, and Sierra already counted the days.

With Jonas, Sierra discovered how to live with a man who was neither kin nor parent. The experience was as overwhelming as seeing his toothbrush, aftershave, and towel in her bathroom. Though the weeks past Sierra still could not get over the situation.

"Sierra?"

"Huh?"

"What do you say?" The man asked with an impatient stare.

"Okay, go ahead if you enjoy it."

Jonas smiled, "you won't regret it."

"If you say so, Jonas."

He continued to load the machine.

Sierra returned to her bedroom Leone was taking a nap. The woman decided to rest too.

"Sierra, do you have-," the man stopped in front of Sierra's opened bedroom door and watched her sleep. This was Cecile's Sierra. She was not all as he expected. Cecile never gave details; she never evoked Sierra's color or origins. All she said was Sierra deserved happiness, and she was the person Cecile loved the most.

Jonas wished to know, what did the woman have that made her so special? The man had twenty-two weeks left to figure it out.

As usual, Jonas ate with Leone. Sierra seemed organized when it came to cooking.

Jonas noted how she had Tupperwares prepared with variated dishes for the week. Each portion was balanced and gave Leone the nutrients he needed.

How did the woman manage it?

Jonas never saw Sierra stand behind the stove. As for her stomach, Sierra liked to eat out.

Jonas could not believe the amount of money the woman spent when she could save up.

Though he promised to stay out of things, the man was unable just to sit and watch. It was his duty to make sure Leone was in safe hands, and Sierra could not be the right person if she were a financial sieve.

There are no small savings in life, thought the man.