Chapter 9

He got dressed, jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt—no shirt and tie while he was off work. He spun around in the almost empty room where he’d grown up and grabbed his phone.

“Hi, Tanya. It’s me.” He ran a hand through his still wet hair as he watched his reflection. Children cried in the background, and Tanya sighed.

“Hi. How’s it going?”

“I’m giving it away.”

There were some noises he couldn’t place, dishes maybe. “The entire house?” Everything quieted. “You can’t.”

“No, not the house.” He could use the money, and they’d be a welcome contribution to her household. “The sofa, bookcase, the bed, maybe? Do people want other people’s beds?”

“The bed frame, I’m sure someone would want, perhaps not the mattress.”

“Ah, yeah.” He grimaced and waved a hand despite her not seeing him. “I’m giving it away.”

“Okay.”

He stopped on his way out into the living room. “You’re okay with that?”