The Adventures of Harry and Me (H.S.)

Do Not Move the Gucci

A sigh leaves my lips as I walk into the kitchen after a three day work trip in Manchester. Harry had to stay back in London, and it was pretty obvious by the state of our house. My husband changes clothes more than anyone I know, and they don't stay in our bedroom. The amount of clothing strung around the house would make you think we had a fashion student living in our basement.

Shaking my head, I place my satchel on the table, removing the tee shirt that is thrown over the back of the barstool. Making my way through the living room and office, I pick up the various items of clothing including multiple Gucci shirts, a few from Harris, and an YSL or two.

"These should be hung. Gucci is not cheap." I sigh under my breath, taking the pile upstairs to our bedroom. Sorting the clothes, I smell each shirt or trouser to see if it is clean or dirty. The stinky articles of clothing go into the laundry basket, while the others that either need to be dry cleaned or are clean get hung in the closet in their designated areas.

I change out of my dress and heels into a pair of baggy sweats and one of Harry's shirts from his first solo tour. I always feel better when I can have Harry's face on my naked boobs. After sorting out my clothes from my trip, I make my way downstairs to start something simple for dinner. Harry texts to let me know he is almost home, and my stomach flips at the thought of seeing him again after being away.

Placing the oven on broil, I move to the pantry and pull out some whole grain bread. I place three pieces of bread on a cookie sheet, and I start to slice some cheese, laying two pieces of cheddar on each slice of bread. Opening the oven I move the rack to the highest point and slide in the pan.

In the blender I combine banana, kale, strawberries, Greek yogurt, and ice and begin to blend. Pulsing the appliance I stop and open up the fridge to grab the milk.

"Hey, beautiful." Harry says, causing me to jump as I didn't hear him enter the house.

"Baby!" I place the milk on the counter and wrap my arms around his body, squeezing him tighter than a blood pressure pump at the grocery store. "I missed you." I say into his chest.

"Mmm." He kisses my head. "I've missed you too. Smoothie for dinner?" I can hear the exhaustion in his voice, and I'm secretly hoping for a quiet night together as I am knackered too.

"Yup. And cheese toast." A bell dings in my head reminding me that I have cheese toast that needs to be checked on. Releasing Harry from my death grip, I rush to the oven, relieved that the cheese on the toast is bubbly and perfect. "Go change. Dinner is almost ready." I pull out the toast and move to the blender, pouring in a small amount of milk to thin out the mixture.

"Elizabeth?" Harry yells down the stairs. "Can you come here please?" I finish pouring the smoothie into two glass cups before making my way to our bedroom.

"What's up?" I say to my husband who seems to be frantically searching the closet.

"Where did my purple Gucci shirt go? It was right here and now it's gone." Harry huffs, frustrated at the fact that his shirt is not where he left it. "I also need my black loafers and the socks that go along with the outfit. I have press tomorrow, and I have to take that outfit."

"It's probably where it belongs," I say, walking towards our closet to help him find what he is looking for. "Is this it?" The lilac floral Gucci shirt drapes from the hanger; I show it to my husband.

"No. Not that one. Why would you move it? I put it there for a reason," Harry growls, searching through the dirty clothes basket.

"Excuse me?" I say, frustrated at his attack. "This house was clean when I left; I walked in and it looked like a bomb went off in a designer store. The amount of outfits I found around the house could clothe a third world country."