“And I like being here, but I need space. I need my life to be normal.”
“Cupcake, it’s going to take more than a couple hours alone in your apartment for your life to be normal.”
“I guess there’s all kinds of normal.”
* * *
¦ ¦ ¦
Morelli drove me home and walked me to my door.
“I could stay,” he said.
“What about Richie and Anthony?”
“They won’t miss me. Richie will go home after the game, and Anthony will fall asleep on the couch. I’ll call him at nine-thirty and tell him to give Bob a bathroom break.”
“Would you be staying because you think I need protection?”
“No. I’d be staying because I don’t want to watch the game with Richie and Anthony, and because I want to get naked with you. And then after I get naked I want to . . .”
I pulled Morelli inside before he could finish the sentence. Mr. Macko across the hall was known to crank his hearing aid up and listen at the door. He was ninety-three. I didn’t want him to go into A-fib from listening to Morelli’s plans for the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IT WAS DARK in my bedroom with just a sliver of light shining under my bathroom door. I was naked and tangled in the sheet. Morelli wasn’t next to me, and I was cold without his body heat. I pushed my hair off my face so I could see the time. Five o’clock. He came out of the bathroom, fully dressed. He kissed me on my shoulder and covered me with the quilt.
“Gotta go,” he said.
“Unh.” It was all I could manage.
Morelli got energized after sex. I relaxed into mush.
“How do you do it?” I asked him.
“You inspire me.”
“Nice,” I said.
And I meant it. It was a really nice answer. It was also true that it didn’t take much to get Morelli inspired.
* * *
¦ ¦ ¦
I waited for the sun to come up before I set my feet on the floor. I showered and got dressed and went to the kitchen. I texted Mrs. Delgado that I was home and didn’t need her to look in on Rex. I made coffee and ate cereal out of the box. My apartment wasn’t great, but it was home, and I was enjoying the luxury of returning to my routine. And I was enjoying the luxury of not having a babysitter following me around.
I looked out my living room window, down at the parking lot. A Rangeman SUV was parked beside my car. So much for independence. I gave up a sigh and told myself it could be worse. At least he wasn’t sitting in my living room.
I cleaned the hamster cage, made my bed with fresh linens, and gathered the laundry to take to my parents’ house. There was a laundry room in the basement of my apartment building, but it was lit by a flickering neon light, and it smelled like overused gym clothes and stagnant water. If I took my laundry to my mother, there was the added advantage of having it folded and ironed. Plus, I always got a bag of leftovers to take home with me. Half a pot roast. A chunk of chocolate cake. Five-bean salad. A bowl of pasta and red sauce with sausage. The possibilities were endless and wonderful.
I had the laundry basket in my hands, turned, and yelped when I bumped into Wulf.
“What the . . .” I said.
“We need to talk,” Wulf said.
“Again?”