Maryanne knocked her boots against the memorial seat, clearing them of snow, before she sat down. She sat the blue bottle between them. "Then you're carrying home a lot of booze."She signed. And she wouldn't even ask for the bag back. She knocked back a good quarter of her glass. She hummed softly at the feel, and cracked a grin when he complemented Lyla's boot's.
Plucking the top out of the blue bottle, as soon as Miguel's glass was down, she topped it up. Doing the same for her glass too. She glanced back at the memorial behind them, before signing. "You know, Clint would have turned fifty in September, if he had stayed." Likely he went back to his time and was back to being fourty something. And not remembering them.