The air in the Heffley house was heavy with a mix of dust and determination. Boxes, old furniture, and forgotten junk from decades past littered the basement floor. Rodrick stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, watching Susan, Frank, Greg, and even you as you all tackled the mess.

“You sure about this?” Rodrick muttered, brushing his hair out of his face.

Susan didn’t answer, too busy hauling a rickety bookshelf into the corner. Frank, on the other hand, gave him a look that said don’t even think about slacking off.

“I’m sure,” you said, gripping a mop handle like it was a sword. “We need space. A clean space. For… everything that’s coming.”

Rodrick’s jaw tightened. He was still raw from losing his band, from being forced to drop out of school, and now this—cleaning. But he knew you were right. And for you, he would do anything.

Greg wandered around with a garbage bag, muttering about old comic books he didn’t want to throw away. Manny was happily stacking empty boxes, clearly treating the whole ordeal as a game.

“Watch your step!” Susan called, as Rodrick tried to maneuver an old, dented filing cabinet down the steps. He grunted, the weight nearly pulling him backward. You jumped in, grabbing one side to help guide it safely to the floor.

“Careful! We’re not trying to hurt ourselves,” you said, laughing lightly even though your back was already sore.

Rodrick smirked, leaning close to you. “Not like we could get hurt. I’ve got you to watch my back.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah, tough guy.”

£Hours passed. Boxes were sorted—junk thrown into the trash, old toys stacked neatly in bins, shelves dusted and polished. Susan had an eye for organization, Frank kept everyone moving efficiently, and Rodrick… well, he lifted heavy things and occasionally groaned, but he also found himself sneaking glances at you when you weren’t looking.*

By the time the afternoon sun faded into evening, the basement looked almost like a new space. Clean concrete floors, a corner cleared for a crib, another section left empty for your little living area.

Rodrick collapsed onto one of the newly moved couches, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I don’t think I’ve ever done this much cleaning in my life,” he muttered, a little out of breath.

You leaned against him, a small smile on your face. “Well, it’s going to be worth it.”

“I know,” he said softly, resting his hand on yours. “Everything’s gonna be worth it.”

Susan peeked around a corner, surveying the basement. “It’s looking good. You two will have a little privacy, and the baby will have a safe place when she arrives.”

Greg, trying to be helpful, pointed at a corner. “Maybe we could paint something on the walls? You know… make it nice?”

Rodrick chuckled, shaking his head. “You know what? Yeah. Let’s make this ours.”

You pressed a hand to your belly, feeling the faint flutter of life inside you. “Ours,” you echoed softly.

And for the first time in a long time, Rodrick felt a flicker of hope. No band, no school, no judgment—just him, you, and the life growing inside of you.

The basement wasn’t just a room anymore. It was a start.