Chapter 21
Maddy can’t tolerate the smell of rubbing alcohol so Rebecca scrubs her feet with olive oil. It takes a while, but that’s okay because another tantrum would take even longer.
Maddy sits on the edge of the bathtub, slumped sleepily as Rebecca kneels inside, warm olive oil water sloshing around her knees. By the time she is done, Maddy is exhausted enough to go right to bed.
Rebecca tucks her in and eases from the bedroom. She stands a moment in the hall, hand on the doorknob, and exhales a long breath at the ceiling.
She peers up the hall, but there are no sap marks anymore from their feet. The tiles shine pristinely.
Retracing her steps, she marvels at the cleaning job. She passes the nursery’s open door, the prism’s lid standing open, a grand piano effect.
She expects to find Mr. Man outside on the porch, but he is nowhere in sight.
The porch, too, is spotless, the smell of rubbing alcohol heavy in the air.
That’s how he managed to clean everything up so swiftly.
Glaring at Jackson’s unlit house, she calls Mark at the office.
“Hi, Beccs, just on a Zoom with Taiwan, crunching some numbers. I’ll be outta here in a few. Can we talk when I get home?”
“Yes,” she says. “Sure.”
He clicks off, neglecting to say goodbye.
She withdraws into the house, throws the dead bolt, checks the kitchen. No sign of Mr. Man there, either, but Bao-Bao thumps in his cage, wanting love. Rebecca takes him out and cuddles him, rubbing her face in the velvet-soft fur of his neck. She looks out into the backyard, but it, too, is empty.
She puts Bao-Bao away and pads quietly down the hall.
As she passes the nursery, a dark form in the corner startles her. It takes a moment for her to realize it is Mr. Man just standing there.
She clutches her chest. “You scared me.”
He says, “That was not my intent.”
“Are you gonna go . . .” To bed sounds too odd to speak.
“No,” he says.
She cannot discern his eyes in the darkness, just the perfectly proportioned outline of him. A pulse of unease starts at the base of her brain stem. But she dismisses it. Mr. Man has been wonderful, and besides, as the N0RM LLC slogan states, she is in charge.
“Thank you for cleaning up.”
He is perfectly immobile, no tic, sway, or tremor. Of course, he has no need for tiny human movements. “You are welcome.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Beccs.”