"John, wake up. You forgot to set the alarm."

Hannah's voice pulls me from my sleep. I was dreaming about something involving the mall, but it's gone now. I just remember being there.

"What time?"

"It's almost eight. I figured your Mom would be waking you soon." Hannah looks like she has already showered and has been up for hours.

Advantages of being a ghost, I guess.

"Thanks, Hannah. I'd be lost without you." Utterly and totally, but things are so much better now. 

Now, clothes, I need clothes. What's clean?

Sometimes, I wonder if that's why I can see Hannah. We were both desperate to be seen, to matter, and we found one another. 

I really hope there are other ghosts. It's easier to think about Hannah's existence if she's only been invisible to humans, as selfish as it is to want other ghosts to exist, so that Hannah wasn't truly alone for so long. 

"I'm not coming with you today; I want you to have time with your Mom without a shadow."

Some of my clothes are on Hannah's side of the closet, and I frown; Mom must have been in here again. I've told her I can put away my own clothes.

"You're always welcome; you're part of the family."

Hannah pulls me into a hug. "I know, and you're my occasionally annoying younger sibling, but I need to look into a few things. The thing with Layla's parents, John..." Hannah shakes her head as she trails off. "Go get ready, I'm going to do some digging while you’re out, and I'll tell you what I found tonight."

"Deal." Maybe we can finally have that talk we've been literally dancing around for the past few days. “We should be home by 6:00 PM.”

I'm really starting to like my hair like this. Maybe I should let Hannah give me a proper makeover. Honestly, my nails are a mess.

Do I have a nail file? I'll grab one while I'm out.

When I’m done in the bathroom, Hannah’s gone; she must have been eager to get started. I'm not totally sure what her plans are today, but maybe she's checking up on old classmates. Either that or she's looking into Kristy's parents for me—I'd rather find out that they're a problem now, not later.

"Morning, Mom."

I came down a little early, but I was ready. Since I don't know what Mom has planned for today, I should eat before we leave.

"John, you look nice this morning. Are you starting a new routine?" There's a hint of a smile in her voice. She thinks I'm doing it for Kristy, and yes, I sort of am, but I feel better when I like how I look.

"Just felt like putting in some effort." 

"Is that so? Well, good for you." Mom puts the muffin from yesterday and another glass of juice in front of me. "Finish those, and we'll head out."

"Is Dad coming?" I haven't seen him yet today.

"He had to go into the office again."

No wonder he was just watching TV yesterday; Dad's been putting in a lot of overtime lately. Some new project or something,

Dad and his science stuff, I'll stick to the arts with Mom and speaking of. 

"If we have time later, I'd love to update you on Deliah; I've had some really great ideas lately."

"Do you have anything for Merry?"

"I've mostly been working on my own art, but I have three covers for Merideth to look at."

Mom's editor always throws projects at me, and I like the challenge; the money that it occasionally brings in is a bonus. Honestly, it might not be a bad idea to focus on Merideth's projects for a little while; I've spent a lot of money this week.

"No short stories? You know that collection is closing soon."

"I'm not happy with anything, and the Deliah stuff is flowing lately." Mostly the art side of things, but it's a connected narrative. "I'll try to get something submitted before the close date."

"It's in less than two weeks, I'll remind you next weekend, and speaking of. Kristy, is she coming over?"

Mom is going to be relentless, but I don't blame her either. She's so happy that I'm getting out and hanging out with people, girls specifically.

"I'll ask her either tonight or tomorrow. Kristy knows we have plans today, and she didn't want to interrupt. Pay is confirmed for Tuesday."

I'm still deciding whether I want Kristy to come over for dinner. If last night was any indication, I'm not ready for a second one. Besides, a dinner here might lead to a third, but with Kristy's parents, I'm absolutely not prepared for that.

"Payton is welcome anytime."

"I know you and Aunt Pattie are thrilled, Mom. You can just say it. I am; it's amazing to have Pay back."

It's been life-changing.

"We are happy, yes. I haven't got to see you two together yet, but Pattie said it was just as cute as ever."

"Back to back on the sofa." Actually, that's something I should mention before I forget. "Aunt Pattie still has our photos up, and I know you took Payton's down because they upset me." I only cried over them a few times before Mom put them in a box. "But you can put them back up; they shouldn't be buried."

"We can do it together tonight."

That's better, a lot better.

"Thanks, Mom."

I'm glad I thought about it before Payton came over.

"We have a busy day, ready to go?"

As ready as I'll ever be, I'm not even sure what we're doing today, but I'm feeling good, and I'm with Mom. She might tease me about the girls; okay, she's definitely going to tease me, but Mom is happy for me.

More importantly, she seems less worried. How much was my isolation eating away at Mom?

From her perspective, I had no friends and spent all my time alone, either in the basement or my bedroom. Now? I'm talking to Payton again, going to dances and having girls over.

I'm thriving.

"I'm not only ready, Mom. I'm looking forward to it."

"You don't even know what we're doing today, John."

Sure, and some small part of me is anxious about that. My emotions have had a lot of big swings this week, and so much has been going on, but it's Mom, and it's pretty obvious that I've been neglecting her.

"I know, and I certainly wouldn't mind a hint." Mom just smiles at me; yeah, I didn't think she would tell me. "But it's been a good week. Why wouldn't I enjoy a day with you?"

"You're sure you wouldn't rather be with Kristy or Payton?"

That depends on what Mom has planned, honestly, but strictly speaking, "I'll see them both tomorrow, and I can talk to them tonight. or whatever."

"Or whatever, what happened to that vocabulary of yours?"

Thankfully, I have an answer to that, especially since the girls aren't around to hear it. "Blame the cheerleaders." Not that I think they're dumb, but they're far from it. I'm pretty sure Zoey and Miranda both have higher grades than I do.

"Now, John. What have I said about stereotypes?"

"To subvert them, of course, those girls absolutely do." They're nothing if not good at keeping me on my toes. Who knows what else they have planned that I don't know about yet?

Mom grabs her keys and jingles them. "Ready to go?"

I take a look around and nod. “Definitely.”

My phone beeps as we walk out to the car; I'm getting a lot more messages these days. Maybe I should change the notifications, so I'll know who's messaging me without looking.

"Going to answer that, John?"

"Today's about us; I can worry about it later." If it were anything urgent, my phone would be blowing up.

Of course, that's when my phone beeps twice more, and Mom just shakes her head. 

"I'll bet you lunch today that those messages are from Kristy."

Mom has a one-in-three chance of being right, at minimum. Those are good odds for either of us, but at the same time. "I'll get lunch regardless, but anywhere you want."

"Deal, now what is your girlfriend saying?"

Kristy: Have a good day with your mom. I’m spending the day with Payton at her place.

Kristy: if anyone asks, you completed the forfeit

Kristy:  don't worry about the details.

 

"Kristy said to have a good day with you, and she isn't my girlfriend, not officially."

There's no point in mentioning the forfeit; it seemed like a big deal to the squad. Layla even asked about it last night, but I haven't done anything for it, so why is Kristy telling me it's done?

Yesterday, I went to the mall with Kristy and had dinner with Layla's parents. Did one of them decide that either counted?

I hope so.

John:  Thanks, sorry I missed you last night.

John: hope today is better.

"John, you should ask her out. It's obvious you like her."

Kristy's great, and I really enjoyed the time I spent with her. Asking her out has all kinds of issues, primarily her being a lesbian. Even if Kristy liked men, I still probably wouldn't ask.

I'm just making friends again. Layla and Kristy are best friends, so if anything goes wrong, I could lose everyone.

That isn't something I'm willing to risk.

Honestly, it didn't sound like Layla is either; Layla said she chose Kristy because she was a lesbian, so there wouldn't be any complications between us.

It doesn't seem to have worked.

Everything is complicated.

"I think she's great, but please don't push me to do it. Until very recently, I thought I liked Pay."

Mom's driving, and it looks like we're heading towards the highway; that doesn't help me narrow down where we're going.

"I won't push, but Homecoming is going to be here before you know it. Don't miss your chance."

"It's been on my mind." A lot this past day. "If it helps, Layla wants me to ask Kristy, too. It came up yesterday."

Mom twitches when I mention Layla. It's subtle, but I was watching for it. That just confirms my earlier suspicions. Mom knows the secret.

"Sorry, Layla?"

Two can play that game, Mom. 

"Layla Peters, head cheerleader and Kristy's best friend. She pulled me aside." For the entire evening, but there's no reason to tell Mom that either. 

"Are all your friends cheerleaders?"

"Other than Pay, yeah." And isn't that so strange? In some ways, it's like going from being nothing to everything, but Kristy made it pretty clear that isn't the case.

People saw me, or at least noticed me. They projected on me and their own idea of who John Moore is.

I barely know myself.

All I know for sure is that I'm happier with the cheerleaders, being seen, and being a friend than I've been in years.

My senior year has barely started; who knows what else it has in store?

***

I'm a little embarrassed that I only figured out where Mom was going when I saw the signs; it should have been obvious.

We just haven't come out here in years, since shortly after I stopped being friends with Payton.

Mom's smiling a little nervously, and that makes me wonder. She occasionally goes out on Sundays for a few hours, but has Mom still been coming to the East Brooke Sunday Market?

More importantly, has she been coming here with Aunt Pattie?

"Is this okay?"

It would have been fine even if Payton and I hadn't reconnected, but that isn't a worry anymore. Now, it's fantastic. Having the girls here today would make it even better, but I don't actually mind spending the day alone with just Mom.

"It's great, Mom. Thanks. I wouldn't have even thought about coming back here. Are there any new vendors you're fond of?"

Mom looks a little sheepish. "Was it that obvious?"

"Not until we got here, but your occasional Sunday trips make more sense now. I'm honestly glad you and Aunt Pattie were still coming and that the distance between Pay and me didn't hurt your friendship."

"I wasn't always coming here, but it was pretty regular."

The market was a great idea; I'll keep an eye out for gifts for the girls. I still owe Payton something for worrying her, and having her gift come from this market might make it even better.

Merideth has an office nearby, and I wouldn't put it past either her or Mom to do business on a Sunday.

Workaholics.

"Is this purposeful or a treasure hunt?"

Pay and I used to try to make a game of our visits here. Find something suitable for one of our ongoing projects or something that might inspire a new one.

It might be fun to start it up again. Yeah, I think that's a great idea.

The look on Pay's face will be great.

"Yes," Mom says, and I roll my eyes. I shouldn't be surprised; anytime I give her an opening like that, she takes it. In fairness, I do the same.

"Both, then."

"Honestly, John. I just wanted to spend the day with you, like old times."

I can't look at Mom; thankfully, there's nothing too odd about me looking out the window. That hurt, and worse, Mom didn't mean anything by it.

When Payton left, I was pretty inconsolable, and anytime I seemed to be doing better, a familiar place, a movie or even a photo could send me into a dark place.

These past few years, I shut a lot of myself away. Mom made sure that I didn't give up art, but there were significant gaps for a while. That's why Merideth started giving me projects: to get me back into the swing of things.

Reclaiming those things and starting here at the market with Mom sounds amazing.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"For a while, I thought you were just growing up, but eventually, I realised how long it had been since you had a friend over or went out and how often you were faking a smile."

Shit.

I was doing it to keep her from worrying, but it doesn't seem like it worked.

"Things are better now."

Mom reaches out and pulls me into a hug. "They are, and I'm happy that's the case. I was considering revisiting some old conversations we've had."

Either the antidepressants or therapy conversation, then.

I dismissed both several times, but that didn't stop the odd pamphlet from showing up in my bedroom. Mom means well. Part of me has been thinking that maybe I should at least consider talking to a therapist. My moods have been pretty volatile; the dance proved that.

It's something to consider, mainly strongly. If there are any issues, I'd rather address them now, when I'm home, than next year when I'm on the other side of the country.

"Talking to Penelope might not be the worst thing."

Penelope Connors is one of several therapists that Mom suggested over the past few years. I looked her up online, and even met her once. She might be a good fit.

"Really?" Mom's tone makes me wince. How worried has she been?

"I'm reluctant, but I've noticed some mood swings lately. We can worry about that tomorrow. Let's just have fun today." Her office is closed on weekends, so we can't do anything about it today anyway.

"We'd better chart a course then." Falling into these old patterns of behaviour, with Pay or Mom, is wonderful.

That's Payton's line, but I smile at Mom anyway as we both slip out of the car. "Coordinates?"

Usually, Payton rattles off some numbers and then drags me off in whatever direction catches her eye first. 

"Let's do a full loop starting on the left here and circle back to anything that catches our eye."

That works great for me.

"Port it is."

Mom takes my hand with a laugh, and we start walking through stalls, old and new. Some of them are so familiar that the memories would have overwhelmed me a month ago.

A birthday present here, something I bought because Pay was sad, there. A first-edition book for Mom. Each booth is a little island of treasures.

The market has grown a lot since I last visited; I think it's at least a third bigger.

I'm glad Mom suggested a walk through the market first. A few things have already caught my eye—for me, Mom and Dad, and Hannah and the girls.

Honestly, if today is any indication of how the Sunday market is now, the Holiday one is going to be amazing. I should bring the girls. Maybe we could all do a Secret Santa with the squad?

That sounds really fun.

Mom hasn't let go of my hand the entire time we've been browsing, and I'm content to walk around with her like this; it's familiar and comforting, like a warm blanket.

I miss the girls, and part of me is surprised by that, but being here with Mom is just as good.

"Did anything catch your interest, John?" Mom's voice is a little hesitant, like she's worried I'm having a bad time; it's anything but.

"Definitely; I'm full of ideas for this and future visits. When did the market get this big?"

"About a year ago, there was a big push to buy local. The market was struggling a little before that."

I wasn't even aware that the market was having issues, and I should have been. Just how unplugged have I been?

This market once meant a lot to me, and it could have vanished without me ever knowing. Something about that makes me ache.

"I'm glad we're here then."

Mom's watching me closely again, and that's when I realise I'm squeezing her hand and tightly. 

Oops.

"John?"

Yeah, I'm definitely having mood swings and a lot of them. When I get home, I might email Penelope to get the ball rolling. 

"Sorry, Mom. It just popped into my head that this place could have closed, and I never would have known."

Another piece of my life could have just been gone without warning, and I'm grappling with that, but it's something I can work out in therapy. There's no reason to let it ruin today.

"If it had come to that, that this market was closing. I would have told you beforehand."

That reassurance means a lot, more than Mom might know.

"Thanks, Mom. Why don't you show me what caught your eye? We can start there." And give me a few minutes to try and settle my emotions.

The smile Mom gives me makes me feel lighter, and she tugs me into the crowd.

Mom stops to point at a booth. There's fresh bread there, and she wants to get some before we leave. Hopefully, one of us will remember. Mom's saying something else, but I'm looking at the booth across from us.

It's a clothes vendor, and it looks like they're trying to get a head start on Homecoming; there's a blue dress prominently displayed that's almost identical in colour to the shirt I wore at Layla's. It's gorgeous, with butterflies tracing up the side.

There's a tug on my hand from Mom, who turns to see what I'm doing, and I just shrug before pointing at a stall with some art I noticed earlier.

Mom smiles, even if it's a little hesitant, as we head towards the art booth, but I swear she was looking at the dress thoughtfully. It is pretty.

***

 

Mom had to run back for the bread. We both got so caught up in shopping and lunch that we totally forgot. She was gone longer than I thought she would be, but now we're almost back home with our treasures from the flea market and our leftovers from lunch. It's been a fantastic day, and honestly, I can't imagine a better way to end this weekend.

Mom and I talked, really talked, for the first time in who knows how long. Not just pleasantries, not about my art, but about me, about my friendships, and about my fears.

So much has changed, and so many things are changing rapidly. I thought having Payton back in my life would change everything, and she has, but nothing changed in any way I could have guessed, let alone dared dream of.

I suppress the laughter bubbling up in my chest; I'm not sure it wouldn't come off as hysterical to Mom, and I don't want to taint today. If this weekend is even a glimmer of what the rest of my life could be, hell, even the rest of my senior year. For the first time in forever, I'm looking forward to getting out of bed every morning.

Not checking my phone has been a conscious and continuous effort, but the girls can wait, I hope. I've felt a few vibrations, but I'm not totally sure those weren't my wishful thinking.

Something is bothering Kristy more than she said. Her sleepover with Payton proved that. It's the opposite of our plan—well, Layla's plan. A sleepover at Payton's seems too soon in their friendship if they just met through me on Friday.

Layla was booked with me, but I'm convinced that Kristy chose Payton deliberately; I still don't know why.

I'm torn between what I know to be true, what I've been assuming, and what I want to be true. Layla telling me that Kristy wants me to take her to Homecoming? Amazing, incredible, even; there's just no reason for Kristy actually to want to.

There's way too much I need to reevaluate. I'm pretty sure I have a full-blown crush on Kristy, and I think it's been there for a while. It's taking a lot of effort to disentangle my feelings for Payton, but it feels different.

Kristy and I have shared classes for about five years. Yeah, she moved into our district midway through eighth grade. We've shared one or two classes that entire time, but we never spoke, but I've been aware of her.

I think the best thing for me to do is to blame Layla for putting ideas in my head and ignore the entire thing.

There's a beep, and I reach for my phone before I remember it's on vibrate and that, more importantly, today is about being with Mom and no one else.

"I think that was mine. Can you check, John?"

"Sure."

Mom shouldn't be looking at her phone when she's driving anyway, and it's easy to grab her purse off the floor and dig out her cell phone.

Let's see.

"It's Dad, working late. Apparently, we're on our own for dinner." Technically, we could cook; Mom made sure I knew how, but we’ve also been out all day, and that sounds terrible.

Thankfully, Mom says.

"Pizza or Chinese?"

Ooh, tough choice.

"Chinese, I think. Dad can reheat his favourites whenever he gets in." And make less of a mess that way; the last time, the cheese melted all over the inside of the oven when he tried to reheat the pizza. 

Never again.

"Sounds perfect. Why don't you put an order in now and have it delivered?"

“Absolutely.” I know everyone’s orders, even Hannah’s; thankfully, there’s some overlap with our tastes, so I’m not actually wasting food.

I'm just coming back from my room when I hear the doorbell. Mom's still in her room, dropping off her own purchases from today. So I head back down the stairs and blink in confusion at a familiar face on the other side of the door.

"Melody, what are you doing here?"

Melody Rogers is in my math class, but why is she at my front door? I didn't think she knew where I lived—at least until the smell of my delivery hit me.

Idiot.

Of course, that's when she gently shakes the bag.

"Sorry, long day. Let me get the cash unless you prefer a card."

"Cash is better, to be honest; I didn't know you lived here, though, or that you knew my name, for that matter." Dad usually gets the door when we order in.

Maybe I've been a little too quiet in classes the past few years, especially if people don't think I know who they are. Just how rude have I been?

Very, I guess.

Shit.

"Sorry, I hope I haven't been too rude."

Melody giggles and shakes her head. "A little aloof but never rude."

That's good to know. "So I don't know the rules, but you're welcome to come in while I get the cash. Otherwise, I just need a second. It's on the counter. I just don't want to slam the door on your face."

"I stay outside, even for the cute boys." She even winks, fantastic.

That's the safest option, so is not responding to her. "Okay, be right back." I gently close the door and grab the money. There's plenty to tip with, and I'm not going to lowball a classmate. "Sorry about that, keep the change."

"That's why I like cash, enjoy your dinner." Melody pauses, looking a little unsure. "Hey, can we keep this between us? I usually don't deliver to classmates, and people can be shitty."

That hadn't even occurred to me, but Melody's right. Some people might look down on her for her job. It's awful, but it wouldn't shock me either.

"Definitely, not a problem. It can be our secret." It's not like I would tell anyone anyway, but I could have let something slip accidentally. 

"You're pretty good at that, being so friendly with the cheerleaders and keeping it quiet for so long. You and Kristy looked so good together at the dance."

"We had a great time, and thank you." I don't remember seeing Melody there, and I'm not about to compliment her without knowing what she was wearing. For all I know, Melody saw pictures. 

"Thanks, John. See you in class."

"See you tomorrow." 

Melody leaves without saying anything else, and that's good. I was running out of things to say, plus Mom is waiting.

"You were at the door for a while. Is everything okay?" I'm not surprised Mom asked; usually, delivery only takes a few seconds.

"I know her from class; we were both surprised to see one another."

"Another cheerleader?" Mom grins at me.

Thankfully, no, that would have been a little too weird for me. I don't want cheerleaders invading every part of my life, just a few.

"We have Math together this year, but she isn't a cheerleader. Drama club, I think." Something physically artsy anyway. Drama sounds right.

"No girls, and now they're all flocking to you. Did your father give you some new cologne or something?" I should have expected something like this from Mom; absolutely, the teasing. It honestly feels like she's making up for lost time.

I'm just annoyed, mainly by the blush I can feel spreading across my face. That will only encourage Mom.

Hannah should be back soon, hopefully before her food gets cold; sure, I could heat it up, but it's the principle of the thing. I don't want her to miss a family dinner.

With everything that's been going on, all the elephants in the room and another one around every corner, it seems we haven't really had a chance to talk about any of them.

Walls are coming down, my entire world is growing, and at times, it feels like Hannah's getting further away. I think her leaving would break my heart as much as Payton leaving did.

Thankfully for my nerves, Hannah wanders in a minute later. She looks exhausted.

"Coincidence, I'll plate the food; what did you want to drink?" 

"Can you get me a glass of the Riesling?" Mom pauses for a minute before adding, "If you want one, go ahead. Do you mind if I meet you in the dining room?"

I've had the odd sip of Mom's wine over the years and the odd beer, too. They were awful. "Not at all, and no, thanks." I catch Hannah's eye, and she nods; two wines it is.

"Your palette is so bad, John. I’ll be back in a few minutes, so no rush."

I just don't like how alcohol tastes; sue me. Mom should be happy about that; I'm underage.

"Sure thing."

That's good; it means I have a few minutes to delay, and that leaves plenty of time to talk to Hannah privately.

"Is that Chinese I smell?"

"Sure is, I got your usual. Half a glass of the white?" Even as I ask, I grab the bottle from the fridge and pop it open. Hannah hesitates, and I immediately pull her into a hug. "Full glass then, I missed you today."

"I missed you too..." There's a pause, and I pull Hannah closer and squeeze, ignoring the cold that comes with it. Either she found something out today that she needs to tell me, or Hannah didn't, and the failure is bothering her.

None of that matters to me; maybe it will eventually. Maybe I'll regret the delay, but right now, Hannah is stressed and clearly worn out. She's my friend. Everything else can wait.

"Not today; today is family; we're going to enjoy this dinner, put up some photos, watch your pick of a movie or two and go to bed."

"John." There's almost a little whine in her voice.

"No, dinner, photos, movies and bed."

That was clearly a mistake because Hannah breaks out of the hug and smiles. Then her smile progressively widens until she's grinning at me, almost manically. 

"You go on a couple of dates and look at you, making demands. What will Kristy think of you demanding another woman get into your bed?"

When Hannah gets like this, it's best to ignore her. She can be relentless with her teasing. 

I plate Hannah's food first and then Mom's. I need to make two trips, regardless, and Hannah can bring her echo into the dining room. My ability to interact with Hannah doesn't extend to her echoes; even if I could, Mom would find it weird. It isn't like I'm a mime, and I can't think of a better explanation for carrying otherwise invisible things.

Dinner was really nice, but it was a little awkward since talking to Hannah in front of Mom is hard at the best of times.

"John, I have the photos in my room. Why don't you tidy up, and I'll go and get them?"

"Sounds great, Mom." Both her and Hannah's wine is pretty empty, and I can just as easily ask them both without Mom noticing. "Did you want a refill?"

Hannah nods almost too quickly; she's been tense all dinner. I'm not sure if Hannah can get drunk, since it's never come up. I don't drink, and I only raid Mom's wine for Hannah when there's an excuse to have it out. One more glass won't hurt either way.

Mom and I can put up the photos, and then Hannah and I can relax until tomorrow. There's bound to be a movie on streaming that Hannah has wanted to watch.

"Just half a glass, I'm seeing Merry in the morning."

That means I should grab the completed covers and give them to Mom tonight. The deadline isn't for another two weeks. Still, they're done now, and I'd rather submit them for review in case Merideth wants something different or changes.

"I'll be back soon."

Hannah waits until Mom is out of the dining room before she asks, "What photos?" I explain as I gather our dishes and head back to the kitchen.

"Of me and Pay, after the third or fourth time I stared at them for a few hours or burst into tears, Mom took them down." Just thinking about those moments is enough for my eyes to start to itch. "She's back in my life now, so I want to put them back where they belong."

It isn't surprising when Hannah pulls me into a hug. "That’s sweet, I can't wait to see them." I'm getting better at suppressing the shivers from her touch.

There's nothing too embarrassing in there, not that I remember anyway—a lot of family weekends or trips together.

"Let me know when you echo Mom's wine, and I'll put it away." While Hannah worries about that, I can load the dishwasher and put away the leftovers.

I can see the echoes, but it's still polite to make sure Hannah's done with something before I put it away.

"Yeah, all set."

There are four glasses on the counter; I expected three, but I don't draw attention to it, especially since Hannah combines two of them to make a full glass. She's an adult, and it isn't like there's anywhere she needs to be tomorrow.

Mom's just setting a pair of bankers' boxes on the table, and she smiles as I pass her the wine.

As we start digging into the boxes, there's less than I thought. Mom also tucked the old photo albums in there, and I very carefully shoved them back into the box.

Hannah grins at me and just plucks them back out, shoot. She doesn't need to see my baby photos, but I can't exactly make a fuss; Mom would wonder why.

"John, do you remember this trip?" And there's some edge to her voice I can't quite place.

I frown at the photos; the trip itself is a little hazy. I was seven or eight, and the six of us went to a theme park. Mom's tapping a photo of me and Pay at a photo stand-in.

She was Goldilocks, and I was Bo Beep.

"Not really, sorry, Mom. That was a while ago, though." There's something about that trip; it was meaningful in some way, but I can't quite put my finger on it. It's like I'm reaching for smoke.

My concentration shatters when Hannah squeals. "Oh my gosh, John! You were adorable!"

I look fine as Bo Peep, certainly not cute. Something about the picture is making my stomach churn.

Of course, that's when I glance over and see what Hannah is actually looking at. It's an echo of a different book altogether. Of course, she went right for the baby photos.

I just shake my head. “Let’s get these all sorted, and then you can go relax, John. I’m going to take my wine and get things ready for tomorrow. 

“Sure, Mom and thanks for today. It was really nice. We should go again soon if you’re free.” Hopefully with Hannah and maybe one of the girls.

"I'd love that; maybe Kristy could come." Mom is having a lot of fun teasing me about Kristy, and I just laugh.

"Maybe."

Hannah follows me upstairs, and she watches as I email Penelope. Then, we curl up together under her new comforter and watch movies until we fall asleep.