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“Where should we start?” he asks me.
I look around. Boxes are stacked untidily in teetering piles at the far wall. Closer to the door, the piles are lower and things are thrown on top since I became overwhelmed and took less care.
I bend to pick up an old fur coat, bringing it to my face. The fur is soft and ticklish.
I was always worried about wearing it, but couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.
“I guess I need to see what I can get rid of.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Why don’t you pass things out to me if you’ve decided to get rid of them?”
“Thank you.”
We work through the rest of the morning until my stomach is grumbling. When it lets off a particularly loud snarl, Erserro stops me. “Let’s take a break. You need to eat.”
I shake my head. “I’m doing so well.” I gesture around us at the boxes of things I’ve already slated for disposal. I have only one small box of things so sentimental I decided to keep them. And I’m more than halfway done.
“Then let me go fetch you something.”
I chew my lip. It’s been so good having him here to lean on when it was hard, but now I’ve made a start, it’s not as bad as I’d thought. I nod. “Thank you. I could never have done this without you.”
His hand at the back of my neck brings me close for a soft kiss on my forehead. “Yes, you could. But I’m glad I could be here to help.”
He leaves after promising to return quickly, and I pull an old cushion in front of a new box, getting to my knees to continue.
EIGHTEEN
Erserro
My thoughts are full of Tamsin as I walk down the street in human form to collect something for us to eat. I still smell of her after last night, a fact that brings me so much satisfaction I know a ridiculous smile lingers on my lips.
Her rich scent is only a small part of her perfection. How does she manage to catch me off guard so often?
I select some dubious-looking sandwiches at a cafe on the corner, more concerned with returning to her quickly than with the quality of the food. I doubt she’ll notice anyway.
If I’d had the forethought, I would have asked Matthew to collect us something, but I gave him the middle of the day off since we were occupied.
I smile and poke my head around the entrance to the small storage unit, already anticipating the simple pleasure her beauty brings me, even dulled by the glasses.
I stop and frown.
She’s sitting on top of one of the last three boxes, shoulders slumped and shaking, head in her hands.
I drop the bag of sandwiches to the floor and go to her instantly. “What’s wrong, flower?”
Instead of answering, she holds up a crumpled homemade card. I take it from her gently. The card is pink, with cut out flowers on each corner, and ribbon glued into a border. On the front it says, To a very special five-year-old.
I open the card to find a photograph of an adorable little girl with bright red hair and a huge gap-toothed smile—a youngTamsin. She’s in the arms of a grinning older lady with wispy gray hair and a matching smile. Across from the card, I read:
My dearest Tamsin,
All the best of wishes on your fifth birthday. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. You’re my greatest treasure (don’t tell Missy)
Love from your oldest friend (Gran)
My heart aches for her. It’s a beautiful message.
As I’m trying to think of what to say, she turns and leans against me, sobbing into my thigh. I put my hand on top of her head and wait. There’s nothing I can say anyway. It has to hurt for a while.
