Page 51 of The Invisible Roommate

With Toby, everything had been different, easier. Toby was talent on the tour, so he had all the same credentials and access Gerard had. Any paperwork had his John Hancock on it long before rehearsals began. Late nights lazing on suspiciously unlocked hotel rooftops looking up at the stars and 1 AM calls to room service for two burgers to be sent up to Gerard’s suite were never given a second thought.

NDAs were supposed to protect him from defamation, and the Ten Commandments were supposed to protect him from damnation, yet he still felt vulnerable and sometimes unsafe. Why was that?

“Findin’ everythin’ all right?” an old white woman with several missing teeth in front asked, shuffling out from the back in scuffed-up sandals that practically fell off her feet as she moved.

“Yes, thank you.” Though he wasn’t looking for anything in particular. He had no use for used books about the bay, seashell wreaths, or floppy, oversize sun hats. Needing an excuse to stay, he picked up a quilted pillow with a bat stitched on it and pretended to inspect the price tag.

In his periphery, the woman seemed to scoot closer. She was squinting at him as if she needed glasses that she’d misplaced. Up on a nearby shelf she could barely reach, she rearranged a few potted plants. He couldn’t help imagining them toppling over and showering her in soil.

The wood-paneled walls to his left showcased paintings by local artists, drapey jewelry featuring large gemstones, and tiny backpacks that had LI’L ISLANDER stitched on them. An entire corner was dedicated to cat merchandise—everything from treats to toys to T-shirts with the words BEST CAT MOM EVER printed on them.

Past the homemade soaps and candles was a kids’ corner with a small selection of toys. Most of the inventory was beach items—red plastic shovels and neon-blue buckets—but behind those were a pair of sunshine-yellow, waterproof walkie-talkies encased in plastic. They reminded him of a set his older brothers had when they were young, and they never let him touch them because he was “too much of a baby to play spies.”

Despite only being three and a half years younger than Garret, Gerard could admit, especially now with a diagnosis tucked firmly in his pocket, that he caught on less quickly than his brothers. When they detailed a mission in a game of spies, he often couldn’t keep up. He’d kick when he was supposed to somersault or run when he was supposed to hide. Garret would inevitably yell at Gerard for being “stupid,” Gavin would yell at Garret for being a bully, and Gerard would become a sprinkler of tears, even into his early teens.

Picking up the walkie-talkies off the shelf, he knew he had to have them. These were a way for him and Emory to contact one another without phones.

“I’m Jeanie,” the woman finally said in a voice too loud for the small, cluttered space. “You new here?”

“Few weeks. I’m staying at Regina’s,” he said, hoping this conversation concluded quickly. Small talk still made his skin itchy. His neurodivergent brain craved depth or silence.

Dropping any pretense of organizing stock, she squared herself off to him. “Hope you’re not like Regina’s last tenant.”

“Did you know him?” Gerard asked, newly intrigued.

“A bit. He came up in here often enough askin’ after orders.”

Gerard glanced around at the shop again. He couldn’t imagine Emory buying any of these trinkets. “What was he ordering?”

“This ’n’ that. I’m the woman who keeps the big corporations off the island.” Her toothy yet toothless smile took on a prideful glow. “Anythin’ you need I know a guy who knows a guy who gets it to me in a week on the postal boat. Sneakers, cooking knives, sewing kits, funny mugs for your aunt’s birthday. I sell it cheaper and better. Guaranteed.”

“Regina’s tenant, what did he order?” Gerard asked again.

With a few pointed clicks on a computer up front, she opened a sheet, clearly unscrupulous about sharing this kind of personal information. Small islands ran on different rules. “Measuring tools, goggles, gloves? When I heard he’d stolen from the medical center, made me mighty mad.”

“Because it was wrong?” he asked, wishing he could tell her what Emory told him. That Anderson Cuss had given those things to Emory, and Gerard believed that version of the story. Emory wouldn’t lie to him about something that serious.

“’Cause it lost me business!” She slapped the counter with a wide, calloused hand, which made Gerard jump. “Also, ’cause it was wrong. If I ever see him again, I’m gon’ tell him so. I even drew a picture of him to help the police in case he’s hidin’ out here on the island.”

“You drew a picture of him? Are you a sketch artist?” he asked.

“Yeah, I fancy myself somethin’ of an artist.”

Excitement built inside Gerard. Was this the moment he got to see the face of his roommate? “Can you show me?”

“You gon’ buy that first?” She pointed a dirty fingernail down at the walkie-talkie set still in his hands.

“Oh,” he said, conjuring what Emory’s delighted voice might sound like upon receiving these as a gift. “Yeah. I am.”

“Got youngins?” Jeanie asked.

“No,” Gerard said, surprised and confused by the question.

“Silly me assumin’. Just figured since you are gettin’ kids’ stuff. I got youngins who got youngins. Most on the island do.” She tapped at the register. “My granddaughter’s been eyein’ those ever since I got them in.”

“If that’s the case, I won’t—”

Jeanie stopped him with a loud clearing of her throat. “I can always get more. ’Sides, she needs to learn to save her allowance better.” Every s the woman spoke sounded like a train whistle. “She’s always throwin’ away her money on music.”