“And,” Tom said, reaching into a bag she hadn’t noticed, “something called a Christmas scone.”
“What’s a Christmas scone?”
“I don’t know. The girl at the bakery said it has ham, orange glaze and Madagascan cloves.”
Cherry was taking a sip of her latte. She raised her eyebrows.“Well.”
“I know,” he said. “Our neighborhood has gotten very bougie. There’s almost nowhere left to buy vapes.”
She laughed.
Tom reached into the bag. “I also got an egg wrap with spinach and feta.”
“Like Starbucks.”
“Like Starbucks,” he said, “but make it bougie.” He held up both paper-wrapped parcels. “Your choice.”
“I kind of want both.”
“You can have both.”
Cherry just smiled at him. She’d been trying to pretend that everything was normal... that Tom had gotten up early to walk Stevie and get breakfast, and now he was home, and he was justhome.But her eyes were getting glossy.
Tom watched her face. He wrinkled his forehead. “Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” Cherry said.
He kissed her cheek, and she closed her eyes. “Hi,” Tom said in a softer whisper.
“Hi,” Cherry breathed out.
“Can I come back to bed?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
Tom stood up and took off his pants. (He’d put on yesterday’sclothes, even though there was a dresser full of clean clothes a few feet away.) He left on his T-shirt and underwear, and climbed back under the covers. “You can drink your coffee,” he said, “but come here.” He put his arm around her shoulders.
Cherry leaned against him, taking sips of the latte. Tom unwrapped the scone with one hand and broke off a piece for her. She took it. She glanced up at him, and smiled when he smiled.
“You grew out your hair,” she said.
“I didn’t want to find a new barber. And every time I did a TV interview, the hair person would tell me my hair was too short...” He frowned at her. “Do you hate it?”
“No. You look like the guy fromThe Bear.”
Tom snorted. “I look more likeabear.”
Cherry laughed. He handed her another chunk of scone. It was delicious. “I like it,” she said, tilting her chin up at him. “You look nice.”
“?‘Nice,’?” Tom said, like it was a dubious compliment.
She pushed her bare shoulder into his chest. “I liked it before,” she said, “but I like it now, too.”
Tom picked up the egg wrap and took his arm back so he could peel off the paper with both hands. “Well, thanks. Here—try this.”
Cherry was still holding the comforter in front of her chest, clamped in her armpits and under her elbows. Still holding the coffee. Tom held the egg wrap up to her, and she leaned in to take a bite. He took a bite, too.
“Not bad,” Cherry said.
