k to me. “Please? Just for a bit? I promise I won’t get under your feet at all. I’ll be really helpful.”
I should have said no. I knew I should. But I was so angry with that woman. And just for a moment I felt as if I had to stand in for Christine, to do the thing that he couldn’t do.
“Fine,” I said, as a large Lego creation whistled past my ear and smashed into tiny colored pieces by my feet. “Grab your things. I’ll be waiting outside.”
• • •
The rest of the day was a blur. We moved the boxes out of the spare room, stacking them in my bedroom, and made the room hers, or at least less of a storage area, putting up the blind I had never quite got around to fixing and moving in a lamp and my spare bedside table. I bought a camp bed, and we carried it up the stairs together, along with a
