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“First, the better musical score is debatable, and you think that house was little?” I ask.
She lifts her hand to halt my argument. “Tim Curry.”
And with those two words, she shuts me down.
“Touché,” I concede.
Keller stands and tosses me the keys to his truck. “I’m gonna stay over at the cottage with Willa tonight. Swing by and pick me up on your way into the shop in the morning.”
“I’ve got my doctor’s appointment at nine,” I remind him.
“Right. Pick me up afterward.”
“You got it,” I say.
He helps Willa to her feet and bends to kiss Hannah’s forehead.
“Good night,” she says to them both.
“Night,” Willa says as she takes Keller’s outstretched hand.
“Are you tired?” I ask her once we’re alone.
“Not yet. I’m kind of a raging insomniac. I usually have to read for a couple of hours before I can fall off to sleep,” she says.
“Me too. Not the reading part, but the other. I’m a night owl.”
“It sucks, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I like the nighttime. It doesn’t bother me,” I say.
“You’re lucky. It wears me out. Sometimes, I feel like a zombie at the office.”
“You want to watchHome Alone?” I ask.
She raises a brow. “Now?”
“Why not? We’re both wide awake. I don’t have to be up too early, and you’re on vacation.”
“This is true,” she agrees.
“How about it?”
“Sure. I’ll go change and grab us a glass of wine,” she relents.
When she leaves the room, I flip on the lights, so I can locate the remote to sign in to my streaming app on the television and find the movie.
She returns, wearing a pair of penguin pajamas and fuzzy red socks, carrying an open bottle of wine and two glasses.
I take the bottle from her and fill both glasses, and then I dim the lights again. We settle on the couch, and I hit play.
Hannah
“Looks like someone is sleeping in.”
“Two someones.”
I blink my eyes open at the sound of the voices and find Norah, Willa, and Aunt Trixie smiling down at me.
