"Yeah, yeah. What is it, five thirty? When's the last time you left before seven?" He leaned in to kiss her, glancing with approval down to her sweater. He didn't know why he found it encouraging that he wasn't the only one who didn't avoid wearing his mother's sweaters, but there it was. He touched her hair, pushing his hand into his jacket pocket to pull out his shrunken bag. "And I'm all packed. Are you ready to go? I think we should get out of town before anyone decides I've forgotten to dot some i's."