Iris, who had no love for lawyers or anyone that made up a system that was firmly set against her, could not have cared less if Peter told her he was a circus clown. He represented, to her, a change, an escape that was not available to her before, and she was profoundly grateful. Endless sticky bun kind of grateful. "If you're sure," she said, staring at him again as if she was not quite sure he was actually sitting there. "You can change your mind. Later. Or whenever." She stood up abruptly to avoid thinking about it too much. "Do you want more coffee?" Then at the plate of sticky pecan leftovers, "Another one of those?"