“I have medication and curtains.”
He ate oatmeal while glaring at me.
The low mood from Friday had lifted, though traces remained around his eyes.
He wanted to go out because he was afraid of losing the future.
That was not the same as wanting to go out because he felt ready.
I needed to know which.
“Why today?”
He set down his spoon.
“Because Caleb and Owen are my friends.”
“Yes.”
“Because Owen is bringing Talia and I want to see whether she is real.”
“She is.”
“Evidence remains limited.”
I waited.
Noah sighed.
“And because I don’t want one article to turn me into someone who stays home waiting for dementia.”
There it was.
“An afternoon at a pub does not defeat neurological risk.”
“No.”
His mouth tightened.
“It reminds me I have a life now.”
I could not argue with that.
“We stay ninety minutes.”
“Two hours.”
“Ninety.”
“One hundred five.”
“Why?”
“Compromise.”
I smiled.
“One hundred five if your head stays below three.”
