Trey said. I looked around the condo and wondered what he was seeing that I wasn’t. Nice? The walls were straight and the windows were clean, I’d give him that. The laminate floors weren’t bad either and the fairly new kitchen held definite potential, but nice? No. The condo was an eclectic collection of old-man smells and single-guy knickknacks and way too many small-child toys. The only draperies I’d seen were in the balloon-themed bedroom upstairs, and the furniture from top to bottom was a tribute to the worst the ’70s had to offer. “Sure, Trey,” I said. “This is nice. Nice like All in the Family meets Sesame Street.” But it was tidy and warm and spacious and in a good part of town, and most importantly, just a few blocks from L’Envie. “Maybe I’ll buy you a lava lamp as a housewarming present,” Trey said. I swatted his arm and walked to the bay windows overlooking a small, man-made pond. I tried to picture a younger Shayla out there feeding the ducks, her two-year-old bowlegs pumping stiffly as she chased them into the pond.
