The building is old and a little rickety, but Nicholas’s apartment is exactly as I’d assumed. Bright and colorful and clean. There are framed paintings of flowers and friends all over the walls. His couch is a purple-pink color that I don’t understand. And there are comfy, thick rugs tossed across the hardwood floors.
It’s a small space, all visible from the front door, but overflowing with his color and style.
I sniff. It smells like Nicholas lives here, too. Clean and like flowers and him.
“Right over here,” he says, leading me into the kitchen. “And thank you again.”
I plop the groceries down on the counter. “No problem. Nice place.”
“Thanks.” He brushes his hands off. “It’s modest, but that lets me put my money in the business.”
“Smart.” My eyes catch on a few framed photos of my building, one with a young version of my grandpa in front of it. “Holy shit,” I grunt as I step closer.
Nicholas steps beside me. “Oh yeah. Your grandpa left that for me. To be honest, he left a lot of things to a lot of people.”
I turn to him. “How do you mean?”
“It’s a bit morbid, but he was always talking about who should take his stuff when he dies. I don’t know how many times he promised me that photograph, the big salad utensils in that drawer behind you, this tie that he thought would look nice on me…” He shakes his head quickly. “Now that I know you, I realize it might seem like the entire neighborhood conspired to rob your inheritance. Sorry about that.”
I give the photograph one more good look. “No way. A man’s word is what matters.”
Although it would be nice to live with that photo on the wall. Just cool to see him young, maybe a little happier than in the other photos I’ve seen.
“I was hoping to get another chance to talk to you,” Nicholas says. He leans back against the counter casually. “After you told me your good news today, that is.” He smiles. “Can I offer you a drink?”
Does that mean he’s inviting me to stay?
Regardless, if I take the drink, I get to stay for a while.
“Sure. Whatever you got.”
He puts a few things in the fridge before emerging with two bottles. “Hard cider? I picked them up when Kavya was over the other night.”
“Sounds good.”
He opens the bottle and hands it to me. I clink it against his before I take a refreshing drink.
“Thanks.” I lick the back of my teeth. “What did you want to talk about?” I ask, nervous but also a little hopeful to hear his answer.
Like maybe, I don’t know. He might say something that I don’t know how to say.
Nicholas gestures toward the living room, and I follow him to the loud couch, which is confusingly kind of cool-looking and also nice to sit on.
“I’m excited for you,” he says. “And relieved that the shop can stay put. But this means you’ll leave town, right?”
I set the bottle on his coffee table. “If Jacob likes the place, he’ll need a few weeks to get his finances together, apparently. It will take me about that long to finish up the projects.” I swallow down the emotions that threaten to rise up. “Should be just enough time left to get a crew in Missouri off the ground by fall.”
I try to read his expression. He’s smiling, but I can tell he’s troubled, too.
Maybe like how I am.
“A few more weeks,” Nicholas repeats with a nod.
I pull it together and remember what we’re here for. There’s one thing that I know I can do, and that’s to leave Nicholas satisfied and happy about our time together.
“I intend to use them,” I tell him, and Nicholas quirks up a little smile. Cute.
“Agreed. And with your departure approaching, we should make sure we get to everything we intended. I want to send you off to build your business with a very big smile on your face.”
