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the way, congratulations.”
    He beams at me. “Thanks, man. Michelle is a such a great girl. I can’t believe she actually agreed to marry me.” He starts to walk away. “Meet us at Morty’s in half an hour if you’re interested.”
    “Will do.” I look at Christian. “See that right there? That look of excitement? It fades, man. I don’t want any part of the decline.”
    Christian doesn’t say anything as I stroll toward the showers. He knows I’m right.

 
     

     
    “T hanks for helping me clean out the apartment,” I say to Geni as I tape up the final box. For the last few days, we’ve spent all our free time at Sarah’s place.
    Once I tracked down the building manager and provided proof that Sarah had died, he gave us a full thirty days to clean it out. We didn’t need thirty days to do it. There wasn’t much.
    We had taken all the baby stuff before the funeral because I obviously needed to get Chance set up as soon as possible. A small crib, a swing, some clothes. It all looked secondhand, but it was clean and in good condition.
    The apartment was in a decent location. It was small but well maintained. There was healthy food in the fridge. The lack of bottles leads me to believe she was exclusively breast feeding, explaining one reason why he cries so much. She even had a few pictures of her and Chance in cute frames around the apartment. I made sure those came with us before anything else.
    I was really proud of my sister for what she had accomplished for her and the baby. I only wished she was here so I could tell her so. The guilt is still crushing when I think about how I should have told her that when she was alive. I’m not sure I will ever get over it. No matter what, I will make sure Chance knows who his mother was and how proud of him she would be.
    “You know I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Geni says as she unplugs a small lamp and wraps the cord around the base. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”
    I sigh, stacking the box on top of another one by the door. “It’s not,” I admit as I walk over to the small couch and plop myself down for a much needed break. I concentrate on keeping down the lump in my throat. “I miss my sister.” The words barely come out a whisper. I can’t even look at Geni as I try not to cry again. I’m tired of crying. It’s time to move forward. But I don’t want to leave her behind either. It’s a hard place to be.
    In true Geni fashion, she stops what she’s doing and plops down next to me, picking up my hand. “I know, baby cakes. You’re never going to not miss her.”
    I smile because that’s all she says. And I smile because that’s all she needs to say. Geni has this uncommon way of validating feelings without sugar-coating anything, all while comforting me when I need it most. I’ve seen her do it with coworkers when they’ve gone through difficult times and it’s always amazed me how she does it. It’s probably because she genuinely cares about people.
    We are sitting there, lost in our thoughts, her stroking my hand gently, when there is a hard knock at the door.
    “I guess it’s time for a pickup,” she says and walks to the front door. I take one last look around, silently telling my sister goodbye. I never saw her in this apartment, but it doesn’t make it any easier to sell the last of her belongings, even if it is for Chance’s care.
    “Hey, I’m here to pick up the couch,” a deep voice says behind me.
    “Come on in,” Geni says, and I stand. “Did you ever decide about the microwave?” she asks him and his buddy as they enter the tiny living room.
    The twenty-something-year-old guys saunter over, nodding at me in greeting. Pretty much everyone who bought something from the estate knew why we were selling everything, and it seems they were trying to be respectful of me. Only one of them asked where Chance had ended up. It was the old woman who lived next door. I was grateful someone was worried about the baby.