She has a room here; she helped Jesus build on an addition to his, but she has a separate bed, one she could take him to if she wanted to, if they did.

She doesn't know what he wants yet, from today, from this place, from her. She knows what she hopes, but she also knows better by now than to even look at that. She knows better than to open that door, so she waits while he collects the kitten, then leads him to the wide, overstuffed sofa.

"It's been a while since you've done my hair," she says when they get there, twisting to look over her shoulder at him.