Soon after we’d finished our pizza, I was at home again, pulling off my jacket, walking over to the stairs.

A lot had happened that night, I guess. Not a lot in a manner of actions, but a lot in a different way.

I had almost made it to the foot of the stairs when a square of white on the black counter of the kitchen caught my eye. So a let go of the bannister and walked over, looking down at it.

Jo,

Max called, said to call him back when you can. But your father and I want to go out to lunch with you. We both have early mornings, though, so talk to you before then.

Mom.

I frowned faintly down at the note, but shook my head. Ok, then, I’d eat lunch with them.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone, ran my thumb over the slightly battered screen to clear it, and turned it on.

I had a feeling that Max wanted to spend much of the conversation teasing me, but that was ok.

I probably deserved it anyway.