The furniture had likewise been shifted all around, the lot of it sorted into arrangements of chairs, side tables, lamps - God, the lamps. Wellsie hadn't liked overhead lighting, and that had meant there were, like, a hundred lamps of different shapes and sizes in the house.
Same with rugs. She'd hated wall-to-wall, so there were Orientals - had been Orientals - lying everywhere on hardwood and marble. Now, though, like everything else, they had been rolled up with their pads and organized into a cordwood-like stack against the long wall in the living room.
The best of the furnishings and all of the artwork were going to be brought north to the mansion, the staff securing a U-Haul truck for the relocation. What was left over would be offered to Safe Place, and, if declined, forwarded on to Goodwill or the Salvation Army.
Man. . . even after the four of them had worked for ten hours straight, there was a lot left to do. This first big push, however, seemed like the most critical part.
From out of nowhere, Tohr stepped into his wandering path, stopping him short. "Hey, son. "
Oh, hey.
As they clapped palms and then shoulders, it was a relief to be on the same page again after months of estrangement. The fact that the Brother had brought him here to help with all this had been a measure of respect that had surprised him and touched him deeply.
Then again, as Tohr had said on the trip out here, Wellsie had been as much John's as anyon
e else's.
"I sent Qhuinn back, by the way. Figured this is an extenuating circumstance - and I gotchu. "
John nodded. As much as he loved his friend, it felt right for him and Tohr to be in the house together alone, even if just for a few moments.
How'd it go at Safe Place? he signed.
"Really well. Marissa was - " Tohr cleared his throat. "You know, she's just a lovely female. "
She totally is.
"She was really happy about the donations. "
You give her the rubies?
"Yeah. "
John nodded again. He and Tohr had gone through what little was in Wellsie's jewelry collection. That necklace, bracelet, and earrings had been the only things with any intrinsic value. The rest was more personal: little charms, a couple pairs of hoops, a set of tiny diamond studs. They were going to keep all that.
"I meant what I said, John. I want you to use the furniture if you want. The art, too. "
There's a Picasso in there I really like, actually.
"It's yours, then. All of it, any of it, is yours. "
Ours.
Tohr inclined his head. "That's right. Ours. "
John walked around the living room again, his footsteps echoing up and around. What made you decide tonight was the night, he signed.
"It wasn't any one thing. More like a culmination of a lot of stuff. "
John had to admit he was glad for that answer. The idea that this might have somehow been solely tied to Autumn would have made him angry - even though that would have been unfair to her.
People moved on. It was healthy.
And maybe that lingering anger was a sign that he needed to let go a little more as well.
I'm sorry I wasn't better about Autumn.
"Oh, no, it's okay, son. I know it's tough. "