“Oh. That. I don’t think he minded.”
James definitely minded. “Just for future reference, when hedoes that whole thing where he lowers his eyebrows? It means he’s pissed.”
“I don’t think so. It means we’re having an engaging,intellectual conversation.”
About his wife’s happiness?
“Your friends are a hoot.”
A hoot? I would have called him out for using such aweird word. But he said stuff like that all the time. I heard Bill’s feet onthe stairs and put my phone back in my pocket.
“Did you do anything to update the room that’s lockedupstairs?” Bill asked.
My fingers tightened around my phone. “It’s the same as theother spare bedroom.”
“Do you mind if I take a peek?”
I patted down my pockets, pretending to look for a key. “I thinkI left the key at the office,” I lied. “But really, it’s almost identical tothe other. Even the same crown molding as the master.”
He nodded. “Well, I’ll definitely be able to turn a nice profiton this place for you. Not a problem at all. And what are you looking for next?Besides four bedrooms?”
I didn’t really know. Did I want another fixer upper? Or someempty apartment? None of it sounded great. “I don’t know. I’ll need to thinkabout it.”
“You’ll need to think fast. This is going to be a hot homefor a family. I’ll pull some ideas for you in the meantime. Maybe we’ll be ableto pinpoint your next investment. Or where you’ll settle down.”
Settling down. I wasn’t sure that was something I wasinterested in. But I nodded anyway.
“Great. I’ll work on the listing.” He took a peek into thefamily room. “And we’ll need some stagers asap.”
I didn’t see why there was anything wrong with my furniture. Maybefamilies preferred less leather and more…throw pillows? I had no idea. “Whateveryou think it needs.”
He snapped a few pictures with his phone. “And I’ll get somephotographers out here to take pictures once everything is ready.” He pushed anend table two inches to the left and I laughed. “It was blocking the natural flow,”he said.
“Sure.”
Bill chuckled. “I’m not going to pretend I know aboutinterior decorating, but I’d definitely run into this thing all the time if itwas at my house.”
He wasn’t wrong. I’d hit my shin on it a few times, but didn’tcare enough to move it. I’d needed a place for whatever I was drinking when Iwas stretched out on the couch. And as far as I was concerned, an end tablewent by the end of the couch.
“Does all that sound good?” he asked. “I’ll text you thetimes for the stagers and photographers.”
“Sounds great, Bill.” I shook his hand and watched him leavebefore heading up the stairs. I needed a shower before I met up with Penny. Butinstead of heading toward the master, I pulled out the key that was very muchin my pocket, and unlocked the door to the third bedroom.
I pushed it open and smelled the calming aroma of paint andsunshine.
The floor was covered in tarp and there was an easel in thecenter of the room with a half-finished portrait.
Another thing I did when I was missing Brooklyn? I paintedher. I stepped into the room and looked at the canvases stacked along the wall.Dozens of them. Everywhere. They almost filled up the whole room.
If I could paint anything else, I would. But I only ever cameinto this room when I wanted to think about her.
Some days I couldn’t look at pictures of her without fallingapart. Other days? I felt like I couldn’t remember her face. On those days, I’dcome in here and look at old photos. And sometimes I’d paint her face from them.It was all I had. An old photo album and some memories. This room was the mainreason I didn’t have anyone over. Because if any of my friends or family sawthis, they’d look at me the way they did after Brooklyn died. Like I wasbroken. I hated when people looked at me like that. Even if it was true.
I stared at the painting on the easel. I was best atcapturing Brooklyn’s eyes. Sad yet full of warmth. Full of love. For me.
She’d given me paints, brushes, and an easel as an earlyChristmas present the day before she passed away. I’d told her I used to loveto paint with my aunt. She’d been worried about how stressed out I was andthought painting would help. It was the sweetest present I’d ever received. AndI’d promised her I’d use it. I tried my best to keep all my promises to her. Evenwhen they killed me.
But she was right. Painting was a great escape from stress. Iwasn’t sure I was ever as calm as I was when I painted. Until grief took over. I’dslept on that tarp. I’d fallen apart on that tarp. This room was the most livedin. Because it held all the memories of her.
I looked down at the photo album opened next to the easel. Brooklyn’sbest friend, Kennedy, had given it to me. It was meant to be a present for ourwedding. Instead, she’d given it to me on the day of Brooklyn’s funeral. Thephotos inside were the only pictures of her I had.
It was one thing to stare at my paintings. It was another tosee her actual face smiling at the camera. It felt like a knife in my chest. She’dbeen so happy. We were supposed to be so happy together.
Fuck. I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes andturned away from the image of her. I needed to go pretend everything was finefor the rest of the afternoon. Pretend I wanted to be on some stupid datingapp. Pretend that hanging out with Penny was anything like hanging out withBrooklyn.
My phone buzzed as I closed the door behind me. It wasanother text from Tanner.
“And make sure to wash last night’s failure off. Or your surprisewon’t be impressed.”
God no. My surprise was a person? If Tanner wassending over another round of women to my place, I wasn’t freaking answering thedoor.
Chapter 10
Sunday
Penny and I were meeting at some little coffee shop near herplace.
