“Probably Thursday or Friday. The realtor was talking about doing an open house this weekend. She’s already come by and taken photos.”
Things are moving fast, too fast, but I knew it had to be that way. The sooner I could sell the house, the better. But that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“Wow,” Casey says, looking at me with worry. “I’m sorry, Blaire.”
I know what she’s thinking. Poor Blaire. First she loses Ben and then she loses her house. What’s next?
My hand falls protectively to the swell of my stomach.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m okay,” I add, and for the first time in nearly seven months, I’m not lying.
I leave Group Friday evening and head straight to Hannah’s apartment. It’s in the center of Old Town as it’s affectionately called. Old Town is filled with older buildings dating back to the town’s founding. Most have been renovated, but they managed to keep the vintage style of the buildings by keeping the exteriors true to their original charm.
I park on the side street and head to the front and inside. There’s no buzzer or anything like that. I know Hannah is on the second floor, and if I remember correctly, she said she was the first door on the left.
I knock and wait patiently for her to open the door. The hallway is dark with only one lone light. There are doors for two apartments on the other side of the hall and the one beside Hannah’s that belongs to Cyrus.
I look around and find that the floors are surprisingly clean and the walls look freshly painted.
The door in front of me swings open and Hannah stands there in a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top damp with sweat. Her strawberry blond hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail and she looks ready to pass out.
“Um,” I hesitate. “Should I come back? Is Cyrus here?” I whisper-hiss the last part.
Her brows furrow in confusion and then her eyes light in understand. “Oh, God no, my air conditioner broke.” She waves me inside. “And of course it’s hot as hell today.” She fans herself with her shirt, and I get an eyeful of her lacy pale pink bra.
“Casey and Chloe aren’t here yet?” I ask unnecessarily. The place is small enough that I can see everything from where I stand. It’s cute, though. The wall with windows is exposed brick and the rest of the walls are white. Her couch is a light gray color and mismatched rugs add color to the wood floors. The kitchen is barely big enough for one person but it’s clean with new black cabinets and shiny white countertops. It’s a studio apartment so her bedroom can be seen from here. Her headboard is a tufted gray fabric that matches the couch and her bedding is white. It’s currently rumpled—but as much as I’d like to think it’s because Cyrus was here I know Hannah hates making her bed.
“Casey says she’s running late from work and Chloe’s picking up the Chinese. Do you want anything to drink?” Hannah asks, opening the refrigerator door.
“Water.” I kick off my shoes and sit down on the couch. The TV is on and I laugh. “Family Feud?”
“Diss it all you want, but I love that show.”
She sits down and hands me a glass of ice water. It’s already dripping condensation onto my lap. “You weren’t kidding,” I say. “It’s hot in here.”
The breeze from the open window is doing little to help with the heat and she only has one fan blowing.
“My brother said he’d bring another fan over for me, but the loser probably forgot. I better go text him,” she mumbles the last to herself.
While she does that, I sip the water. It doesn’t do much to help cool me down though. Hannah returns and sits cross-legged on the couch. “So, what’s new with you?” She asks.
“The FOR SALE sign went up in my yard today.” I sigh. “So many changes.”
She frowns. “I’m really sorry, Blaire, and I know that’s the last thing you want to hear, but I am. It’s unfair that you have to shoulder so much right now. This should be the happiest time of your life.”
I look away. I refuse to cry or feel sad tonight. I want to have fun with my friends like we used to. “It’s for the best,” I say, and it’s true. “This place is really nice,” I tell her. “Are you liking it?”
“Oh yeah. That upstairs apartment is still for sale,” she says with a coaxing tone.
I make a face. “I’m not sure … I’m going to have a newborn in a few months.”
“I understand,” she agrees. “But I’ll be here, so I could help out.”
My lips twist. “Good point.”
“Come on.” She grabs my hand and tugs me towards the door. “Justin—he owns the building—should be downstairs.” I let her take me downstairs where she knocks on a door. It opens up a minute later to reveal a younger-looking guy—probably in his early forties when I was expecting someone much older—sitting at a desk in a closet-sized room. “Hey, Justin,” Hannah greets him. “Blaire here is looking for a new place. Would you mind showing her the upstairs apartment?”
“Sure.” He stands and grabs a ring of keys off a hook. “Hi, nice to meet you Blaire, I’m Justin.” He holds his hand out to me.