"Minimum! Come on, if we head down now we can get in before anyone else gets home, Mom's taking Jemma to this preschooler drama club and Grandma's out with the ladies." Lyra grabbed Rosario's hand to pull her toward the door, hoping she was right about the timing of Jemma's drama club. Rosario did not need to be explaining her drama to Lyra's mom, who would inevitably take on the drama as her own. Best if they'd had enough time to Rosario's cry face to fade before hit with any nosy parental figures.
The layout of Lyra's apartment was a mirror of Rosario's, only instead of housing three adults and two teenagers it housed three adults and a three year old. Lyra suspected her grandmother had been pleased that Jem and little Jemma had to shared a bedroom now that Lyra had moved back in, because a three year old in the bedroom was an excellent reason not to bring strange men home. Jocelyn did not hold with strange men in her home. Rosario, though, was family, and everyone was well accustomed to hearing Rosario and Lyra's (usually mostly Lyra's) voices through the thin walls.
Lyra narrated her way through the apartment, start with a "Bleagh," at the trapped heat. She went straight to the fridge and "oh hell yeah, jackpot in the vege draw," she grinned, passing Rosario a cold, mostly-full bottle. "Research juice! Get some of that into you, you'll feel better. Moscato and post-its, baby, that's how we're gonna do this thang!" She swiped the pad of post-its stuck to the fridge (peeling off the half written shopping list and sticking that back to the door) and led Rosario through to her room, making another 'bleagh' noise at the heat.
Lyra slapped on her fan and picked her way across her room to kneel on the bed, push open the window to get a cross breeze going. Then she turned back round, legs crossed, post-its in one hand and phone in the other, and asked, letting Rosario lead the way: "Right, where do we start?"