He turned to face Derek and watched him as his gaze darted around and took in the room. Blake had added some touches over the years. A framed print of a Cezanne painting graced the far wall. The comforter on the bed was a warm royal purple. A scent infuser on the small counter filled the room with the light scent of citrus.
“It’s nice in here.” Derek took one more glance around and then focused on Blake.
“Thanks.” Blake couldn’t stand the scrutiny, so he stepped around the recliner and pulled one of the chairs toward it. He took pains to adjust it on the right side, the place where Catherine had always sat. He needed some normalcy in the proceedings. “This’ll do you for now. Feel free to bring in anything you like, since this’ll be your space, too. And don’t forget to bring something to occupy you while I’m dead. It can take hours sometimes, and since I’m dead, I’m certainly not much of a conversationalist.”