Page 104 of Hail Marry
“Is there a bathroom connected to this bedroom?” he asks.
I show the way into my bedroom, uncomfortably aware that none of Tori’s stuff is in this bathroom. She uses the one in the hallway, despite my offering a number of times for her to use this one, which is much nicer.
Joyce and Ron look around, and her eyes fix on the one lone toothbrush on the counter. “Whose is this?”
“Mine,” I say.
“And where’s yours, Mrs. Callahan?”
“It’s…um…in the other bathroom.”
It’s a scribble fest, then Joyce glances into the all-glass shower, which has the few things I use, none of which give feminine vibes.
“Is there a reason you use separate bathrooms?” she asks. Her voice is bland, like our answer is just a matter of passing curiosity rather than one that has far-reaching implications for our future.
I’m stumped on this one, and my heart races as I try to think of a quick answer that will satisfy rather than raising more questions.
“My hair,” Tori blurts out. She puts a hand to the messy bun on top of her head. “It’s…wild. And it gets everywhere. I shed like a dog, and Luca gets a little fed up with having my hair all over everything and clogging the shower drain.”
Ron nods like he actually finds this an incredibly reasonable explanation.
“Is this the only bedroom?” Joyce asks.
My gaze flits to Tori. Can we just say yes and save ourselves more torture?
“No,” Tori says. “There are three others.”
“If you’ll just take us past them quickly,” Ron says, “we can wrap things up.”
Tori takes in a breath and leads the way out of my room and into the hallway. Joyce looks at me, and I put a hand out, inviting her to go ahead of me.
Once she’s turned away, I shut my eyes, cringing, before I follow.
Tori stops in the middle of the hallway. “There’s a bedroom here and there and there.” She points to each one in turn. “And then the bathroom I use, of course.” I can sense her nerves, and I’m pretty sure the officers can too. She’s usually calm when it comes to these immigration situations, but today, I can feel her unraveling.
I wish I could pull her aside for a few minutes, hold her, and help her calm down. But I’m not exactly in a Zen state right now.
“Mind if I take a quick look inside?” Joyce asks.
We definitely mind, you nosey old lady.
“Sure thing,” Tori says, clasping her hands behind her back.
Joyce opens the door to the two unused guest rooms, neither of which have beds or furniture yet because we haven’t had time to devote to that sort of thing, nor have we had guests needing them.
My muscles tense as she opens the last bedroom door and pauses. “Another pregnancy pillow?”
“We take manifesting pretty seriously around here,” I say, hoping my tone sounds light. It’s not a forte of mine.
Joyce gives no indication she’s heard as she goes inside and looks around.
There are a couple items of Tori’s clothing on the floor, and even though the bed is made, it’s no hotel-corners bed-making job. It’s clearly been slept in recently.
The cruel irony is that I’ve lain awake in my own bed multiple nights since Tori moved in, wishing weweresharing a bed. And maybe I haven’t been alone in that.
“This room looks as though it’s currently in use,” Joyce says, stating the obvious. “Is that the case?”
“Yeah,” Tori says. “I’ve been using it since Luca’s back got injured at the game last week. I’m a wild sleeper, and I don’t want to bump him accidentally, you know? Gotta take care of the money-maker.” She smiles and squeezes me around the waist.
