Chapter 6
The sound of the kitchen radio playing oldies tunes—Marvin Gaye, if I’m not mistaken—reaches me as soon as I step out of my car when I get home from work the next day. It grows louder the closer I get to the house, and when I walk in through the open back door, the sound of Mattis singing along with Marvin—out of tune, I might add—makes me smile.
The house smells of garlic and basil and other herbs, and my smile grows wider as I kick off my shoes. I love having someone to come home to—even if the circumstances are a little weird.
The sight of Mattis makes my heart twitter. His back is turned, and he doesn’t seem to notice me, so I lean against the door frame and allow myself to look at him.
He’s wearing my clothes again—he left home as a rabbit and the clothes don’t transform
