Page 117 of Second Alarm
"Love you too."
Cal walks home — his good arm around Aiden, his bad arm hanging, no longer bad. He doesn't look back. He's been working on not looking back at us. He's getting better at it.
Ty takes my hand.
"You want to be alone?"
"Don't be stupid."
"My place or yours."
"Ours?" I say it before I mean to.
Ty stops on the sidewalk.
"What? Are you saying yes?"
"I told Mom. Yes, I'll move in with you. We can fight about it later — but I'm telling you now."
"Hanna — "
"Do you still want me to move in with you or are you going to be a difficult man about it, Ty Brennan?"
"Yes. I want you to move in with me."
"Good, Ty."
"I have to ask Cal."
"Ask him Sunday at dinner. He's going to say yes this time." I squeeze his hand.
"How do you know?”
“I asked him yesterday what he thought about you and me moving in together, and he said, 'It's about time, Hanna,' and then he said, 'Don't tell Brennan I said that, because I'm still making him work for it.' So ask him. And he's going to say yes."
"Okay."
"Okay."
We start walking.
At the corner, under a streetlight, we pass Micah locking up Peak Grounds. He sees us and nods.
"Micah."
"Hanna. Ty."
"Hanna." His voice isn't unkind. "You two have a good evening."
"Okay. You too, Micah."
He locks the door and walks the other way.
Ty and I walk home.
In the apartment, later, at some specific minute I'm not tracking because I'm no longer a woman who tracks specific minutes of things like this, the lamp is on in the bedroom and Ty is already in bed because Ty is an old man who reads. He's reading a book with his little glasses on. I'm in the kitchen making my own coffee because tomorrow is my day off and I want coffee ready for six a.m., and in the mirror above the kitchen sink I look at myself.
I look at my face.
