Chapter 2

By the next day, my fever had broken, though my throat was still raw. I lay propped against the headboard and picked up my phone. The buzz from the night before had been a voice message from my mother.

I opened it and listened.

"Kim's not coming home with you? Is she busy?" Her voice caught a few times, then lifted at the end, trying to sound light. "That's all right, busy is good. We'll see her some other time, no rush."

I stared at the message thread for a long time without saying anything, then scrolled up. She'd sent a handful of photos, some of them selfies in front of a mirror.

My mother, who never bought herself so much as a new shirt all year, had tried on four different outfits and wanted to know which one would make a good impression on her future daughter-in-law.

There were close-ups of food too. Ever since Kimberly mentioned over a call that she liked pot roast, my mother had made it several days running.

"It's getting better every time. She's sure to like it," she'd said, and I could hear the smile in her voice even through the recording.

I pressed my lips together and played the message once more, then sent back only, "She really has been busy lately."

By the time I left my room, Kimberly was already gone. The bag from the coffee table had been cleared away, the medicine set out in its place. Beside it sat a bag of croissants and a cup of coffee.

On my way past the trash can, I caught sight of something crumpled at the top, a purchase receipt balled up inside. A note was pinned under the edge of the coffee table: Don't forget to eat breakfast.

It had been a long time since she'd bought me breakfast herself. Ever since she'd told me about that System, it was like she thought meeting my needs was some kind of waste. And now, she'd gone and done it again.

I reached out and touched the food. Stone cold. I heated it in the microwave, and every bite still felt like sandpaper going down my throat. I ate standing up, frowning the whole time.

I drove to the office, and as I parked, I saw Gary Yoch climbing out of the passenger seat of Kimberly's car, a breakfast bag in hand, hot enough that he kept tugging at his earlobe without thinking.

Kimberly locked the car and walked alongside him. Neither of them looked my way. The elevator doors opened, and the two of them stepped in together.

I ran into Gary in the hallway around midday. He looked like he'd been waiting a while, and he came right up to me.

"Hey, Levi! Ms. Nicholl asked me to pick out gifts for your parents for the holidays. I'm worried my taste isn't good enough. Can you take a look?"

He handed me his phone. The screen showed his chat thread with Kimberly. His contact name for her was just "Kim," with a little heart wrapped around it.

I didn't say anything.

He scrolled up, page after page, showing me screenshots of shopping pages, each one captioned with something like, "Would this work for Levi's dad?" or "Does Levi's mom like red or navy?"

Kimberly's replies were all casual. "Mm." "Sure." "Your call."

I glanced at the prices. Add them all up, and the total still wouldn't touch the number on that crumpled receipt in the trash.

He kept scrolling, and near the very top, his thumb slowed. It was a message from Kimberly, just one line: [As long as the gesture's there. Old folks don't need anything too expensive.]

Gary's finger paused, like he'd only just realized I'd seen it. He laughed, a little awkward. "Ms. Nicholl's just... trying to save some money. It's not easy for her to make it, after all."

I looked at his face. The smile was still stuck there, like it had been pasted on.

"No, it's not," I said. "So don't bother buying anything."

The smile on Gary's face froze for a second. I walked past him and kept going.

That evening, I got home from work to find Kimberly sitting on the couch, her phone resting on her knee, the screen just going dark.

"Did you give Gary a hard time today?" she said.

I paused halfway through taking off my shoes and looked at her across the room.

"He told you?"

"He said you told him not to buy anything. He spent all day researching, he put real thought into it, and you just shut him down with one line. Don't you feel bad trampling on his good intentions?"

She sighed. "I really don't understand why you have to be like this."