“I’ll be in touch by day’s end. Check your e-mail.” She rose, smoothed the wrinkles from her yoga pants, and dismissed him with a wave. “Now, go on. Some of us have work to do.”

68. Object Permanence

68

Object Permanence

Evan hesitated outside the door of 12B. He and Mia had an understanding that he was to keep his distance from her and Peter. Mia didn’t know precisely what sorts of jobs Evan did. But she’d learned enough to know that he wasn’t safe to be around.

He reached for the doorbell, but his finger stopped shy of the mark.

What if she got angry?

What if she told him to leave?

What if Ted was there, whipping up an organic meal, expounding on the virtues of CrossFit?

Evan glared at his finger, wavering in midair. Given everything he’d endured in his life, how absurd that pushing a doorbell made him nervous.

He rang.

After a long pause, he heard footsteps. “Damn it. Hang on. Hang on.” The door flung wide. She wore a bathrobe, soaked through, her wet hair dripping around her shoulders. One hand gripped a pink razor. “Oh,” she said, cinching her bathrobe tighter. “I thought you were the pizza guy.” She looked at her razor, then hid it behind her back. “Um. Awkward.”

“Sorry to bother you. I know I’m not supposed to…”

“It’s okay. It’s good to see you. I mean, if I weren’t in the middle of a shower and didn’t have a Gillette Venus razor hidden behind my back.”

“It’s still there?”

She checked behind her. “Yup. Evidently I was hoping you hadn’t developed object permanence yet.”

“I’ve got it down pat. I do struggle with stranger anxiety, though.”

“Okay.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m all out of witty repartee and getting shivery. Can we move this along?”

“I just wanted to apologize to Peter. For the lobby last week when I was … short with him.”

“He’s in his room. He snuck his Halloween candy in there, so enter at your own risk. I’ll be drying myself off and pretending not to eavesdrop through the heating vent.”

“Deal.”

She vanished up the hall, and he walked over to Peter’s door. It had been a long time since he’d been down here. The Batman stickers remained, as well as the skull-and-crossbones KEEP OUT! sign, but the Kobe Bryant poster had been replaced with one of Steph Curry.

The door was slightly ajar, and Evan knuckled it open. Peter started, diving to cover up the sea of dumped-out candy. He craned to look over his shoulder. “Evan Smoak?” Rolling out of his emergency belly flop, he pulled a Snickers Mini from a fold in his pajama top and started shoveling candy back into the pillowcase frantically. “Don’t tell Mom.” His mouth was full, the words distorted.

“I wouldn’t be shocked if she knows already.”