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“Okay, I’m texting the picture to you,” she said, glancing over at me.
“Mine’s on its way to you.”
After our exchange, I asked Riley if she was hungry. She was, but she didn’t have time for me to cook breakfast. She wanted to get back to her parents’ house before they left for work so she could talk to them.
“Have you changed your tune again?” I asked.
“No, this is a respect thing. I want to tell them good morning, that you and I fell asleep last night, and that’s why I didn’t come home, and then wish them a good day.”
“Let me know what they say.”
“I will. Would you mind if I freshened up before I leave?”
“Of course not.”
Riley had been in my main bathroom for a few minutes when I peeked around the doorframe at her. She looked at my reflection in the mirror, and then I walked up behind her and took the brush from her hand.
“That’s my job,” I said.
As I began brushing her hair, I thought about how many times I’d done it and braided it. Riley used to love it whenever I messed with her hair and still did because her eyes were closed, and she had a soft smile on her lips.
“How’s that?” I asked.
She inspected the job I’d done and then turned around. “It’s wonderful.”
“I do my best.”
“Would you do one more thing for me before I leave?”
“Name it.”
“Take off your T-shirt.”
“Because you want to take it home with you?”
“Yes—like I used to do.”
I pulled my T-shirt over my head and handed it to Riley. Then she took a whiff of it.
“Smells just like you, Silverman,” she said, her eyes shining.
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“You know it is. I’ve always loved your masculine scent. And guess what.”
“What?”
“I still have the last T-shirt I got from you last year.”
“I figured you threw it away.”
“Never. When I moved to Fort Worth, I slept in it every night until your scent was gone.”
“How long did that take?”
“Eleven days.”
I kept looking at Riley while trying to decide whether or not I should tell her what I still had of hers. It was more than one item.
