lunch supplies. You can let me know what brand of chips you prefer.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean—” Her eyes went wide. “I was just joking. I don’t have an actual rider. You know that, right?”
“It’s fine. Lunchtime is during the workday and you’re at the office, so to speak. You can just give me a list of what you want from the grocery store and we’ll stock up the kitchen.”
“Okay,” she said, seeming unsure. “That’s really nice. Thank you.”
“Come in.” I opened the door wider and she followed me into the foyer. “Wait here.” I went into the studio, dumped the paperwork and the knife, and grabbed the envelope I had for her. When I re-emerged, she was looking up the curved staircase in the foyer, at the framed photos on the wall over the stairs. My family. My former band.
She turned to me when she heard me coming.
I handed her the envelope. “House keys. Alarm code for the house. And the entry code for the poolhouse. I just had it changed, so you don’t have to worry about any of my friends stumbling in there or anything.”
“Yeah, Courteney was pretty miffed that she couldn’t open it just now.”
“Maybe memorize those, and then burn that?” I suggested as she peeked in the envelope.
“It won’t just auto-destruct?”
“I’m not a secret spy or anything, so no.”
“Just checking.” She looked me over, quickly. “You have this subtle, if-James-Bond-were-a-surfer vibe going on, in case you didn’t know.”
“I think he did surf. In Die Another Day.”
“Okay, I’ll try not to hold it against you that you know that.”
“Not a Bond fan?”
“Not really.” Her eyes widened and she immediately tried to backpedal. “I mean, when I compared you to him, though, it wasn’t an insult…”
“I didn’t take it as one.”
“Shit.” She rubbed her neck. Was she nervous?
I was so used to being distracted by my own discomfort when talking to people, I could hardly read the signs.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I just flirted with you, without meaning to, then insulted you, without meaning to. Can we chalk this up to moving day nerves and move on?”
“Done,” I said. I didn’t want her to be nervous. I was nervous enough for both of us. “Your own remote for the gate is in there, too. The other one is signed out to Courteney so you can just give it back to her. I have a security company that monitors everything. You’re attached to the new remote.”
“Sounds official.”
“I emailed you a list of other contacts you’ll maybe need, like the groundskeepers and whatever.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated. “Do you want to come out and say hi?” she asked, with the kind of unassuming innocence of someone who really didn’t know me. “Xander’s here and so is your sister. And Ashley and Danica.”
“I’ll pop out a bit later. I have some things to do first.”
“Okay. We’ll be a little while. I didn’t bring a ton of stuff, but the guys are already two beers in and playing Frisbee. I’m herding rock star cats out there.”
“I have total faith you can handle it.” I opened the front door for her. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure. See you later.”
I could hear voices out in the yard, in the distance, as she jogged down the steps. Laughter. Music was playing, but I couldn’t tell what it was. I thought I heard Xander’s voice, getting louder, like maybe he was coming around to the front of the house as I shut the door.
I headed into the studio and locked myself in.
I pulled up the security feed of the front gate on a laptop and left it open next to me, so I’d see when anyone left. Or if anyone else arrived. Then I got to work on unpacking and assembling Taylor’s new chair. And tried not to think about her out in the yard, hanging out with her friends, drinking beer in the sunshine.
You know, being normal.
Normal was hard for me. Because I so totally wasn’t.
Sure, I used to be the kind of person who’d enjoy a few beers by the pool with friends. I used to be easygoing—more or less. Even as my anxiety worsened, the bouts becoming more intense, I found joy and pleasure in everyday life.
I had a pretty great life.
The anxiety came on infrequently, and always triggered by specific things. It was predictable. Manageable.
But all that changed when Gabe died.
Overnight, living became unmanageable. I spun out of control, and the only way for me to get some semblance