“Hi, Ben,” he answered.
“Hey, do you know how to mount a TV on the wall?”
“No. Why?”
He was answered by the sound of shuffling and scraping, then a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Because this thing was just delivered and I need to figure out how to get it up before Margo gets home.”
“What time is she getting home?”
“One.”
Knightley glanced at his computer. “That’s in less than an hour.”
A pause, and then Ben let out a sigh. “Shit.”
“Why do you need to get it up before she’s home?”
“No reason.”
Knightley smiled. Oh, there was definitely a reason.
“How big is the TV, Ben?”
“It’s fine.”
“Fifty-five inches? Sixty?”
Another pause. “Seventy-five.”
Knightley laughed. “She’s going to kill you.”
“Not if I can get it up before she gets home.”
“And you honestly think that’s going to happen? Use your head.”
“Wow.” Ben chuckled. “You sound just like Dad.”
Knightley’s own smile dimmed a little. Ben rarely made digs about their father, but when he did, Knightley tried not to take it personally. After all, he had spent most of his life shielding his brother from the worst of their father’s criticism and neglect.
Knightley worked to maintain his unaffected tone as he changed the subject. “How’s the apartment?”
“Good. Better once I have something to watch the playoffs on besides a laptop.” Another grunt. “What’s new with you?”
“Same old, same old.”
“And how’s everything uptown? Margo is worried about her dad.”
Knightley sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You two are a ten-minute cab ride away.”
“You know Margo.”
“Well, you can tell her that he’s trying to cut out dairy, so dinner this weekend will be interesting.”
Ben laughed. “And Emma has that new friend of hers.”
“Nadine.”
“Right. Margo said they’re attached at the hip.”
