The Actor by Maya Brooks Page B

couple of days.”
    “Do you have
pots and pans?”
    “I haven’t
looked, but I wouldn’t put any money on it.”
    They ended up
with a brimming cart, and Marc balanced a coffee maker on top of it all.
    “Better safe
than sorry, right?”
    “Didn’t she
leave anything ?”
    “I don’t know.”

Chapter Eight
     
     
    When Marc
pulled up outside the house, Laura stared and blinked several times.
    “That’s where
you live.”
    “Yeah, it’s not
great, but it’s home.”
    Not great?
What is he talking about? This house could be amazing.
    “I’m gonna get
lost in there.”
    He looked as if
it was the funniest thing anyone said, ever.
    “Maybe I should
put a GPS tracker on you.”
    “Or draw me a
map.”
    His eyes
resting on her face made her want to blush.
    “C’mon, let’s
get the food in and I’ll take you on a tour. The inside is horrible. I wanted
to clean it up before you came, but I didn’t have it in me.”
    The hallway
wasn’t too bad, and the kitchen seemed almost cozy.
    He even has
curtains, this isn’t as bad as I expected.
    Marc put a
couple of plastic bags on a counter.
    “If you unpack,
I’ll get the rest.”
    “But… I don’t
know where anything goes.”
    Why is he
looking at me like that?
    Marc’s eyes
said she was cute, but extremely silly. He opened a cupboard, and it was empty.
Another contained three glasses and a couple of plates.
    “You have more
talent for this than I do. Put stuff wherever you want it to be. Buy whatever
you like.”
    His eyes added please
help, and she nodded.
    The rest of the
house was worse.
    The living room
presented a smelly clutter of old glasses, bottles, cigarette butts,
newspapers, and clothes.
    She squeezed
her eyes shut and tried to imagine it without the mess. The mental image became
impersonal and modern, filled with chrome, glass, and black leather.
    Most of the
rooms were completely empty, or showed pathetic remains of a previous life. One
room had an abandoned toy car lying on its side in a corner. Another held a
lamp with hearts on the shade, and an old notebook.
    It’s so sad
and abandoned. If this was the shards of my life, I’d probably start drinking
too. I wonder what the house was like filled with life. Was he happy here, at
one time?
    “And least but
not last… Bedroom.”
    A multitude of
colors and patterns assaulted her eyes.
    “Whoa. I didn’t
think this would be your taste.”
    “I was going to
do something about it, but it didn’t turn out that way.”
    Is it even
possible to sleep in here? I bet I’d still see all this if I close my eyes.
    Marc walked
across the large room and peeked into a big, half-empty walk-in closet.
    “There’s plenty
of space for you to hang your clothes. I wish I could have done… I don’t know,
something, so you don’t have to feel you’re just taking the place of another
woman. I’m sorry.”
    Am I just
taking the place of another woman? I hope not.
    “It’ll be
okay.”
    It was a
little weird to put her things into someone else’s drawers. Her clothes and
things looked misplaced, from another world, but she could live with it.
    Marc wandered
off while she unpacked, and returned with a glass filled with whiskey and ice
cubes.
    It’s gonna
be hard for him. This place keeps too many memories and habits.
    She wrapped her
arms around his neck.
    “I’m hungry. Is
it too late to make lunch?”
    He kissed her,
much too briefly.
    “If that’s what
my sweetie wants, that’s what she’ll get.” Glancing around, he added, “I don’t
know what to do with this bloody room. I hate it.”
    I can see
that.
    “Maybe tomorrow
we can go get some paint, and wallpaper, and stuff? Fix it up. You need new
curtains.”
    “Can we get rid
of that chair?”
    It’s your
chair, but it’s cute you’re involving me in the decisions.
    “We should do
that right now. I’m afraid it’ll give me nightmares.”
    It looked
heavy, but Marc lifted it easily and carried it into the yard. “Much