Page 103 of Hail Marry
“Sure,” I say. “This is the living area.” I gesture to the room in front of us, with a couple couches, a TV, and a coffee table, then lead the way toward the kitchen.
“Who makes breakfast in the mornings?” Ron asks as we stop near the island.
“Um, we both do?” Tori says with a laugh. “I wake up quite a bit later than Luca. He’s usually got training to get to, and I’m a late sleeper. But sometimes he’ll leave something for me anyway. Just in case it’s a miracle day, and I’m up before nine.”
“What do you do for work, Mrs. Callahan?” Ron asks, jotting more notes on his paper.
“I’m…currently unemployed,” she says. “But looking. Like I said, I was working in L.A. for a long time, so since quitting, I’ve just been trying to figure out what I want to do.”
So much scribbling. I can’t imagine scribbling means good things for us. Or that this visit means anything good. I have no memory of Preston mentioning anything about a home visit.
I’m seriously regretting letting Tori answer the door. If she hadn’t, what might we be doing right now?
But I won’t break you. That’s what she said.
Gosh, I want it to be true.
“Can you show us the rest of the house?” Ron asks.
Tori’s eyes sweep to me. He means the bedrooms. Theseparatebedrooms we sleep in.
“We’ve got to get going pretty soon, right, babe?” Tori says.
My mind trips for a second over that pet name. “Yeah.”
“Do you have just one car, then?” Joyce asks.
“No,” I say. “We have two, but?—”
“I like to drive him to the hotel whenever I can,” Tori cuts in. “We get so little time together, you know?”
Joyce smiles perfunctorily. “If you’ll just guide us through for a quick tour of the rest of the house, we’ll be on our way so you can get your husband to the hotel.”
“Yep,” Tori says brightly, but I can finally hear the nerves in her voice. Can the officers hear it too?
Tori leads the way down the hall. “Here’s the master bedroom.”
Joyce stands in front of the open doorway, and Ron joins her.
“Are you pregnant, Mrs. Callahan?” Joyce asks, looking at Tori with raised brows.
“What?” Tori asks quickly. Then it registers. “Oh. Because of the pillow? No, I’m not pregnant.” There’s a tiny pause, and her eyes dart to me. “Let’s just call it manifesting.”
“Manifesting?” Ron repeats.
“It’s something kids say nowadays,” Joyce explains. “Means trying to make something come true by pretending it is.”
Ron’s face screws up in an expression that translates towhat in the actual world?
“So, you’re trying to become pregnant?” Joyce asks.
Tori’s mouth opens wordlessly, then she laughs. “You guys really go for it with these questions, don’t you?”
“They’re important to help us understand the relationship,” Joyce says unapologetically.
Tori’s gaze flicks to me, and the corner of her mouth ticks up. “How could Inotwant a little Luca running around here?”
My heart races. Screw immigration. I’m tempted to scoop her up in my arms and take her into that bedroom right this second, but Ron interrupts.
