"Pizza and beer does seem to be our thing, doesn't it?" Richard rubbed his face with his hands, taking the moment to think. Emotional swings. He could deal with those. His whole life had been built around dealing with those for a long time, though this couldn't be related to his mother's depression. It had to be a new symptom of the migraines. It had to be. The thought of facing the horror that she had dealt with every day terrified him in ways that the actual phenomena he was dealing with couldn't. He couldn't let that show, though. Not now, not to Vanessa, not while he was already in such a strange position.
Best to play along with her, then, and pretend that nothing was happening. He looked up from his hands and manufactured a smile. "Either way," he said, "Though I think wasting that outfit on a night at home would be a damn shame. I'm still willing to try a dinner and put this behind us if you are."