“Matt mentioned it once.” That wasn’t a lie. I wasn’t going to tell her that he’d rolled his eyes when he’d done so. She’d had enough heartbreak from the careless hands of her late husband.
“That blog paid off my student loans,” she told me. “And helped me get my last apartment.”
“Are you still updating it?” I asked, knowing very well that it had been almost a month. There’d been one post reminding everyone about a pop-up art event in Brooklyn, but nothing original in a while.
“I haven’t. I think I was just overwhelmed by… everything.” She waved a hand out. “But I’m already feeling a little more inspired. I think a new place was just what I needed. Though I think I’m going to need to hire someone to hang my art for me. I am hopeless. I put three holes in one wall already and none of them are right.”
“What you need is a laser level and a paper grid.”
“Do tell.”
I waved toward my living room art.
“Those canvases were painted by a distant cousin of mine when she learned about my color scheme. She said she was trying new art styles. She usually does portraits,” I went on. “Anyway, her mother told me to trace them onto pieces of newspaper and to hang the newspaper up to find the right placement.”
“That’s genius.”
“Yeah. And then the level made sure I didn’t fuck up the alignment. I can loan you the laser level. And some spackle,” I added, shooting her a smirk. “Did you buy new art?”
“No. I want to hang the canvases that were in my office at my old place.”
“Oh, I figured those were for clients. Why were they sitting on the floor in your office?”
I knew by the look she shot me that it was because of Matt.
“A few of them are portraits, and Matthew thought having strangers on your walls was ‘creepy.’ I figured it was one of those ‘pick your battles’ things they always talk about with marriages.”
“Matt’s action figure collection was on display in yourbedroomat that apartment.”
“That was a battle Matthew was willing to fight to the bitter end.”
So she was the one who had to sacrifice. Not Matt. That, sadly, tracked.
“Have you had any other visits from Matt’s family?”
“Two. One, just the day after you were there.”
“For what?” They’d cleaned out everything of Matt’s. Even the watch I was sure Blair had bought him.
“The TV.”
“What?”
“The bedroom television. Ronny claimed that Matthew told her that I never wanted a TV in the bedroom. I didn’t. She figured that meant the TV was Matt’s.”
I’d seen that TV.
There was no way Matt could have afforded it.
“It’s fine,” Blair said, seeming to sense my agitation. “I really don’t like having a TV in the bedroom. It’s… distracting.”
Distracting from… other things that should be happening in a bedroom.
I really needed not to be thinking about how nice it would be to get distracted with her.
“What was the other time?” I asked, reaching up to tug my collar, feeling like I was suddenly choking on the intoxicating chocolate scent of her lotion wafting over to me.
“To get Matthew’s shaving kit.”
