Beck’s phone rang, and he disappeared into the huge condo to take the call. I continued to dig through my bags. In one large bag was my most prized possession, even more beloved than the Hello Kitty three-dimensional ice cream cake pan that I had won in a raffle from a Japanese company.
It was a medium-sized painting in a gaudy gold plastic frame. It had been my mother’s. It was the only actual item she had left in her will to me.
My stepsister had always said it was ugly, and maybe it was, but I loved it. It was a painting of New York. There was a girl in the corner looking out the window at the street scene. The colors, while vibrant, were a bit smudged, as if you were looking out through antique glass covered in rain.
I stared at it lovingly then grabbed the hammer and nail I had brought.
“Is Beck going to let you hang that in here?” Enola asked in concern, following me into the living room.
“I always hang it up wherever I live. It’s tradition. This painting is my good luck charm.” I picked a spot on a prominent wall and pounded the nail in then hung the painting on it.
“It’s a little crooked,” Enola said.
I tried to adjust the painting, but it went wonky in the other direction. “You know what? Sometimes that’s just life.”
“Ma’am?” a man called. “Where do you want this bed, ma’am?” One of the movers and his coworker hauled a large headboard into the living room.
“Uh…” I looked around. I didn’t know how Beck wanted the furniture set up. I didn’t even know where he was. The mover made an impatient noise.
“I guess the master bedroom?”
“Which is?”
I needed some cake; it was too early. I picked a hall at random, and the movers followed me down. On the right-hand side was a large bedroom that seemed like the master suite.
They need to give you a map.
“All that master-suite furniture can go here. For the rest, just pick a bedroom.”
I went back into the living space. There were few things I loved more than luxury real estate. The whole place had gleaming hardwood floors. The windows let in more natural daylight than I had seen in a year at my old apartment. The kitchen was so big I could hold a dance party in it. I was in heaven.
“Girls,” I said as the movers streamed in with furniture, “we need to decorate!” The walls were shades of white and gray, but I liked color. “We should paint this whole room yellow.”
“No, pink!” Annie suggested, eyes sparkling.
“We do need some pink in here,” I declared as we trooped through the massive condo.
“Let’s paint the hallway orange!” Enola exclaimed.
I wondered if Beck was going to go for that. He was already on edge lately—we didn’t need him wound any tighter.
“Why don’t we start with our bedrooms then branch out from there?” I suggested, leading them back to the bedrooms.
“These are huge!” Enola exclaimed, eyes bugging.
“And you have your own bathroom,” I said, opening the door to the en suite bathroom. “You girls are going to be living large.”
“So are you! You have to take the room next to mine,” Annie insisted, tugging me down the hall.
“Ma’am?” the mover said, knocking on the door. “All the furniture is in. Can you sign please?”
I looked around. In the living room was a single couch and a table, one of the bedrooms had a nightstand but no bed, and the master suite only had a dresser and a chair.
“Where is the rest of it?”
“We were instructed not to take the furniture that had water damage,” the mover explained.
“Then I guess we’re going to be doing some shopping,” I said, signing my name with a flourish. “Poor us!”
