When you have unlimited money, novelty is a rare, precious resource.
And Winnie is the rarest thing I’ve had in years.
I’m completely consumed by her.
I don’t want to blow it all at once.
So I’ll play her game—just to keep her close to me.
For now.
“You knowthe best part about having a lot of stuff?” I say out loud, mostly to myself. “Buying more stuff to keep your stuff in.”
“You have a problem,” Crawford says from the doorway of my storage wing—yes, wing—of the penthouse.
“I’m dusting and reorganizing,” I tell him as I carefully place the action figures back in their little clear plastic bins.
“Marie Kondo says thank your items then let them go.”
“Well, it’s a suggestion, a guideline. Obviously, I’m not only keeping thirty books in my house. Besides, I’m healing my inner child.”
“Yeah, twenty years later, your child is still healing.”
“Of all of us, I’m on the higher end of emotionally mature.”
Crawford’s eyes narrow.
“Okay… actually, I’m not,” I admit. “Half true.”
He blinks. Slow. Judgmental.
“If you’re here about Winnie, she told me she’s not interested, and I respected that. So I’m dating her sister.”
Crawford makes a disgusted noise.
“She asked me to,” I protest. “Hey, where are you going?”
Crawford takes a few steps in.
“Hey—don’t touch anything. Donot touchanything.” I lunge.
“Relax. I don’t want any of your old newspapers from fifteen years ago.”
“I do not save old newspapers. I am not a hoarder. And don’t touch that.” I snatch the box from him.
“You’re going to have to let some of this go.” He shakes his head.
“I will be buried with my Etch A Sketch.”
“The kids are in town to go school shopping.” He opens the double doors to the stationery room. “This will do nicely.”
“Oh, you should have told me. I would have bought stuff for them.”
“I think it will be very healing for your inner child to share the fruits of your labor with your younger siblings. Don’t make that face. I thought you said you don’t have a hoarding problem.”
“I’m not a hoarder!” I run after Crawford as he heads back out into the main living area of the penthouse.
Little hands and fists scrape and slap at the front door.
