Re: NYC: Hannah & Hugh
She laughed at his reaction to the idea of having a house filled with children. "My husband had two. Two kids from his previous marriage, and they were amazing and sweet and funny," she said, and she didn't talk about them very much. She knew they'd kind of helped her get caught for what she'd done, but that was okay. They were kids, and these kids had been through a lot in their short little lives. She hoped they were happy now. She really, really hoped they were living with their mom's family. She hoped that a lot, and she hoped that hard.
"Okay!" she said of the typewriter. She didn't like taking things from him, but she thought maybe an old typewriter wasn't worth very much, and it would be okay. She lit up when he made the offer, and maybe she would try to write, and maybe it would be okay. Maybe it would be better than okay.
"Tell me more about Theodore and Noah," she urged, because she thought he needed people. He seemed to her to be someone who flourished in a crowded room. He was made for throwing house parties, for having friends who liked to drink wine in front of the fireplace and talk about things late into the night. She didn't think he was made to be alone, and she wanted to know more about the people he was spending time with.
She ate two more mozzarella sticks, both of them copiously dipped in marinara sauce, and she finished her drink. She knew he was over there thinking about what she'd said, and she knew what she'd said was a lot. And she considered. She considered her answer before talking, because she didn't really have an answer, not one that made sense. "I think there are things I was doing before, like the sex work, that I would never have done. And now I don't want to," she explained, because it was the most tangible thing she had, the most clear thing she had.