Page 53 of The Invisible Roommate

“Did you sleep all right?” Gerard asked, sitting at the kitchen table.

Emory couldn’t tell if the question had anything to do with their surprise cuddle session. Perhaps Gerard had rolled away before waking up. There was a possibility he’d never ever have to know about it, and it might be better that way. “Fine. How about you?”

“Fine.”

Two fines, both loaded, lingered in the air as they resumed eating their scones and drinking their coffees for a while in companionable yet crackling silence. The morning light reached every edge of the room by the time Emory caught sight of the strange musical instrument again. “Is that what you were playing at Regina’s last night?”

With his mouth full, Gerard nodded. “I convinced her to let me borrow it. She really wants me to audition for a choir solo for the talent portion of the Halloween Masquerade Party. I told her I’d do it on one condition—I got to play her dulcimer.”

“What’s so special about it?” Emory asked.

“Aside from it being beautiful and delivering such a soothing sound, it’s one of the few instruments that’s kind of authentically American. It has its roots in Appalachian folk music,” he explained. “Would you mind if I practiced here today? It’s cumbersome to cart around, and I don’t have a carrying case for it.”

“Sure,” Emory said. Now that he enjoyed music, he was secretly excited by the prospect of having a private concert from Gerard Wells. “I meant to go to the library last night to see if they had some books for my research, but, well … I won’t be able to make much new headway on my experiment without them.”

Gerard toyed with the sleeve on his coffee cup. “Do you know the titles of the books?”

“No, but I have a few authors in mind who may have written on the subject,” Emory said.

“Write down their names. I’ll go check for you.”

“You will?” Emory asked.

“Of course. It’s not far. If it’ll help you work, I’m happy to do it,” he said with a magazine-cover smile. “Besides, better than you breaking and entering and then stealing them.”

Emory chortled. “Okay. Uh, thanks.” He rustled around for a small piece of paper and a working pen.

Gerard placed batteries inside both walkie-talkies. Green lights blinked on from their fronts. “Testing, one, two,” Gerard said into the microphone of one and his voice came out relatively clear from the speaker in the other.

“Do you even have a library card?” Emory asked as he traded Gerard the list of three titles for one of the walkie-talkies.

Gerard’s brow furrowed as he tapped his foot. “Oh … no, and I can’t give them my ID without revealing myself. Well, I’m already harboring a fugitive. Stealing it is!” He put his coat and shoes back on. The walkie-talkie slipped easily into his pocket as he walked over and opened the door.

“Partners in crime,” Emory said softly without thinking.

A perceptible blush blossomed on Gerard’s face. “Ha. Yeah. We’re a real Thelma and Louise.” Gerard smiled once more before leaving.

Feeling cheeky and light and somehow already missing Gerard’s presence in the room, Emory pressed the button on his walkie-talkie. “Don’t go driving off any cliffs, Thelma.”

A little eternity passed before he got a response. “Roger that, Louise.”

25Gerard

Bzzt. “Thelma to Louise, Thelma to Louise, do you read?” Gerard whispered into his walkie-talkie as he stood in the aisle of the pharmacy on Tuesday afternoon. Partially, he was testing the distance limits of the device, but also, he had a burning question.

A minute later, under the generic instrumental music playing over the radio, the walkie-talkie crackled to life. Beep. “Louise here. Over.”

Bzzt. “If you had to choose,” Gerard said back, reading labels off a marked shelf, “would you say you’re more of a porcelain, a soft ivory, or a buff bisque?”

Beep. “Is this some sort of new personality test I’m not aware of? Over.”

An elderly woman browsed the hand cream not far from him, so Gerard quietly chuckled to himself and spoke softer. Bzzt. “No, sorry. This is about your skin tone. Which descriptor would you use? Porcelain, soft ivory, or buff bisque? Over.”

Bzzt. “Thelma, what is this about? Over.”

Beep. “Just answer the question. Over.”

Bzzt. “How can I answer the question when I don’t understand the question? Over.”