The second was from his shabby, somewhat scary, definitely taking your life in your hands to ascend the outside staircase apartment to a very not shabby, not at all scary, having no outside staircase rented condo. It was in a small, well-landscaped, quiet, L-shaped layout of condos. The only drawback was he had two parking spaces and the entire complex of twelve units had only three visitor spots, which were around the bend of the L from Brock’s place. So, if his family were around, which was somewhat often, considering he was available, they were close-knit, and still in the throes of emotional turmoil, parking could become a problem.

The rest of it was awesome. A fenced-in front patio that was a sun trap and thus, if the sun was shining (as it had a tendency to do a lot in Denver) the minute you opened the wooden gate, you entered warmth even though it was November. Inside the front door was a big living room with fireplace and two-story slanted ceiling. Up a shortish flight of stairs to the right was a humungous master bedroom with bath. In that was a new king-sized bed with new sheets and comforter.

The bed Brock bought. The sheets and comforter I picked out, not with Brock, who flatly refused to go shopping for sheets and bought the first bed he laid eyes on which, luckily, was a nice one. But instead I went with Elvira, Gwen, and Martha, the former two throwing themselves into this errand with scary abandon and the latter doing it under obvious protest, for she still was waiting for Brock to expose the dickhead within.

In his condo, next to the up flight was a down flight that led to a door that took you down to a full basement with laundry. The lower level above the basement had two smaller rooms separated by a full bath. Beyond the up and down staircase was another short staircase, this only five steps that led to an elevated kitchen that had a railing facing the living room, a small dining area, and a bar that separated a somewhat compact but modern and relatively luxurious (for a rental) kitchen.

As threatened, I had bought Brock new towels and dishtowels and when he moved I added more sets for the boys’ bathroom.

As I would learn, considering they were more meddling, nosy, and intrusive than even Elvira, without his knowledge and using the key he’d given his mother, Fern, Laura and Brock’s other sister Jill commandeered his ratty-assed furniture and delivered it to places unknown that were so covert even a DEA agent couldn’t track them down (and he tried). They then filled the space with a large fantastic, masculine, comfortable sectional, new square coffee table, a handsome upright chest that held his flat-screen TV, stereo, DVD player, PS3 (for the boys) and DVDs, shelves that held CDs and books, and a new dining room set.