When Nick made her go over the walls a second, then a third time, gave her freshly shredded T-shirts and ammonia spray to “really get down” into the corners, she thought it was a little weird, but it was his money and the take-out Thai food he ordered from a place in the County Mart was delicious, not to mention the candy for Emilio.

Knowing, somehow, that she loved Thai.

She’d use a toothbrush and a magnifying glass if that’s what he wanted.

While she cleaned, Nick kept busy in the master bedroom, emerged from time to time to inquire if she and Emilio were okay.

Between the second and the third go-rounds, when she made a joke about it being like one of those forensics shows on TV, cleaning up the evidence, Nick thought that was hilarious.

On the second day, the bus was late and so was she, but Nick was cool about it. He patted Emilio’s head and had Felicia go over the dining room again. Then he showed her into the master bedroom, the only part of the house she hadn’t been.

This was different.

Clothing was piled everywhere — on the bed, the floor, in the closet — except for one section where stacks of folded cardboard boxes stood ready to be assembled.

As if the contents of the entire house had been concentrated in one space.

“Please fold everything and pack, but not too tight,” he told her. “If you can arrange it loosely by color, that would be great, but don’t worry if it’s not perfect. Do you know how to fold these sides to make the boxes?”

“Sure.”

“Then you’re all set.” Big smile. “I’m going out for a while. I left drinks in the fridge and some snacks… it’s really nice having you help me, Felicia.”

“Me, too,” she said. Boy, did that sound stupid. “Um, afterward — after the food is gone — do I need to scrub down the fridge again?”

Nick thought about that. “No. That won’t be necessary.”

It didn’t take long to realize everything was for a woman. Big woman. Expensive stuff, a lot of it vintage.

Gowns and dresses, silk blouses and skirts. Tweed suits — a whole collection of those. Silky negligees and panty hose and real silk stockings you needed garters and clips for, she’d never actually seen those before. Lots of bras, size forty-four C.

On the bottom of one pile, she found a bunch of cute little leather boxes filled with costume jewelry. Tucked in a corner were cool old hatboxes, round and hexagonal, containing feathery cloches, felt derbies, berets, delicate straws with fake wooden cherries sticking out of the bands. One blue plaid cap that looked like a man’s, but women with hat faces looked cute in them, too.

She tried that one on, tilted it at a jaunty angle, grinned at the mirror.