“When they get too big, I can’t sit properly or lie on my back. At least not while I’m wearing a shirt.”
“Couldn’t you, I don’t know, cut the back out of a shirt?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Or go topless. Or wear a halter. But not in public.”
“No, not in public. Secrets must be kept.”
“You’ve got a lot of secrets, huh?” she said.
“Some,” he said.
“Deep, dark ones?”
“All secrets become deep. All secrets become dark. That’s in the nature of secrets.”
She pressed the towel-wrapped bag of ice to her face and rolled her head back and forth on her neck. He heard pops and crackles as her muscles and vertebrae unlimbered.
“Hang on,” he said. He ran up to his room and dug through his T-shirt drawer until he found one that he didn’t mind parting with. He brought it back downstairs and held it up for her to see. “Steel Pole Bathtub,” he said. “Retro chic. I can cut the back out for you, at least while you’re here.”