“It’s five o’clock,” Cherry said.
“I want to go upstairs,” he said.
She nodded.
Tom closed the baby gate behind them. He brought the pizza.
When they got to their bedroom, Tom started stripping the bed. Cherry had changed it after he’d stayed over the other night... but she helped him.
He went to the hall closet to get fresh sheets and pillowcases. His hands were shaking.
Cherry was crying. (Flat and shapeless tears that streamed down her face with no surface tension.)
“Can I take a shower?” Tom asked.
Cherry laughed. “Yeah. You can even clean the shower. You live here.”
He made a noise like a laugh. He walked over to his dresser and got out a T-shirt and pajama pants.
While he was in the shower, Cherry straightened the bedroom. She picked up laundry and closed the closet doors. She arranged the pillows on the bed.
Tom came back to the room dressed for bed. Cherry hadn’t seen his long hair wet. It hung in ash-brown curls over his ears and forehead.
He looked like he’d seen a ghost in the bathroom. And a few more on the way to the bedroom. He looked like he could use a minute.
“I think I’ll take a shower, too,” Cherry said. She dug out her elephant pajamas.
The shower was still wet. The bar of soap was slick.
When Cherry got back to their room, Tom was sitting on the edge of their bed, leaning on his knees. His feet were bare. Tom’s toes were wide with flat nails. Something about them made her want to laugh. Or maybe cry.
He looked up. He held his arms out to her.
Cherry stepped into them.
Tom rested his cheek on her stomach. After a minute, she laid her palm over the crown of his head.
“Tell me I’m home,” he said.
Cherry hushed him. “You’re home, Tom. You’re home now.”
They fell asleep too early, both of them wiped out. Both of them incoherent with relief.
Cherry woke up just after midnight. Then Tom woke up. Then they remembered the untouched pizza.
“I’ve been eating like shit,” Cherry said a few minutes later, licking marinara sauce off her thumb.
“We’ll do better tomorrow,” Tom said.
He took the rest of the pizza downstairs to put in the fridge.
They lay awake for a while.
They kissed.
Cherry told Tom that she loved him more than she loved life and the world. That if she were God or emperor, she’d let everything go right to hell for him. (She didn’t tell him that. She said, “I love you” over and over. She let the faucet run.)
“I think I’m ovulating,” Cherry said later. “And I don’t have any condoms.”
