We did not move into the new house right away, because we had to figure out how to make the place feel like home. A whole lot of things needed to be done. After soaking in the reality of it, we went back to our old place.
The drive back was loud with laughter. Real laughter, the kind that bubbles up without permission.
“I still think your father is trying to emotionally destabilize me,” I said, shaking my head.
Canna smiled, with his eyes on the road. “He likes dramatic gestures.”
“That was not dramatic,” I replied. “That was cinematic.”
He laughed. “You handled it better than I did.”
“I was trying not to cry,” I admitted. “Or faint.”
We got home and stood in the living room for a moment, looking around like guests in our own space. The couch, the curtains, the kitchen we had argue
