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"I'm not sure I can deal with that."
    I shook my head. "Not much to settle. Aside from the house, I'm signing over everything into your name."
    Maybe the house would be his one day too, but for now, I wanted it to stay my parents'. It was too soon to go through everything, and I wasn't hurting for money. I'd have the furniture covered and hire someone to clean until I was ready.
    "Let me know if you need help with your dad's will."
    "Our family lawyer's already contacted me," he responded. "Grandpa said he could fix it for me. I don't care. I don't want anything."
    He'd find it useful one day, when he felt better.
    "I know we're not close," I told him, "but you can always come out and visit me in LA."
    It was what I had to give. I couldn’t stay in Pittsburgh much longer. The pain was too fucking much in this city, and I had no energy to go with him to Berlin—if that was where he wanted to stay.
    Tennyson had not-so-subtly suggested I try therapy or grief counseling, and maybe it was a good idea. But I needed to be on my own turf, and only my loft felt like home.
    Julian didn't acknowledge my offer, which was fine with me. I didn't know his thoughts or his needs.
    "Did you mean what you said at the service?" he asked softly after a while. "About not knowing how to go on."
    I nodded slowly, my mind already fuzzy. I remembered most of what I'd said, but since it hadn't been rehearsed, it wasn't all there. I knew I'd meant every word, though.
    "Yeah."
    He swallowed audibly. "I don't know, either."
    As the adult, so to speak, I reckoned this was where I was supposed to have some golden advice, but I had absolute shit.
    Part of me wanted to get buried in work, though there was no way I'd pull through. I wouldn’t be able to deliver and stay committed. There was no motivation or inspiration.
    "Well, my offer stands, kid." I gave his leg a pat as I stood up. "Come out whenever you want. I probably won't be the best company, but I have plenty of room and LA is full of distractions."
    I began walking back to the house; then I remembered something I wanted to tell him, so I stopped and turned.
    "Julian, did you major in music?"
    He lifted his head as if it weighed a ton. "And art. Why?"
    "I could tell. You were great today."
    "Oh. Thank you." He looked down again. "I wasn't sure I should do it. Dad wasn't stoked about me going with not one, but two directions where it's not easy to get a job."
    My mouth twisted up, if only a little. Sure sounded like something James would say. "That’s what parents do. You think my folks were thrilled when I said I wanted to study film?" But much like mine, Julian's mom and dad were… had been …good people. "You know what my pop did when I landed my first big project, though? He took me out for a beer and was happy to admit he'd been wrong. James would have done the same thing."
    He bobbed his head slowly. "Okay."
    I watched him, wondering if there was a protocol I didn't know about. Was I supposed to press? What would I even say in that case? I was at a loss and figured it was probably best to give him space. Either he believed me or he didn't. Or he needed to digest, fuck if I knew.
    He had my number, my address, and my email. If he wanted help or whatever, he could contact me whenever.
    With that thought, I headed back inside to force some food into me. I'd rather go straight for the bottle, but that could wait until I was alone.
    *
    Tennyson and Sophie flew back to LA the following day, and the day after that, it was Daniel and Zane's turn. They went home to New York, though not before Danny insisted I needed a PA. I definitely didn't, but I guessed it couldn’t hurt to have someone come over with food that didn't come from takeout places.
    The morning after, it was my turn to leave Pittsburgh.
    Completely drained and anxious, I boarded the flight and checked my emails while the plane filled up. I confirmed payments for the gardener and housecleaning I'd ordered for my folks' place, I