Chapter 12: Cute Place

Jem came out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in his mouth and saw my face.

He took the toothbrush out.

I held up the phone.

He looked at the photo for a long time.

Then he walked to his own window, the one that faced the side street, and lifted one slat of the blind.

"He's still there," he said.

I went and looked.

Across the street, under the streetlight, a gray electric car sat at the far curb.

Tom was leaning on the hood in his merino sweater, scrolling his phone.

He looked up at the window.

He waved.

Jem put his boots on without tying them.

"Jem."

"I'm not going to touch him," he said. "I'm going to stand on my own sidewalk."

"Then I'm coming."

"I know you are."

Kath was on the landing in pajama pants with her phone already up.

"I'm filming," she said. "For the lawyers. And for me."

We went down through the dark shop and out the front.

The bell rang over the door.

Tom pushed off his car and crossed the street toward us, smiling, hands in his pockets.

He stopped on the sidewalk in front of the shop window.

"Lindy," he said. "You look tired."

"You took a picture of my window at ten at night."

"It's a public street. It's a nice window. Very cozy."

The bar on the corner was letting out.

Four or five people stopped on the curb with their drinks, watching.

The woman who runs the bakery next door came down her front steps in a bathrobe, holding her dog.

"Everything okay, Jem?" she called.

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