“Give me the password one more time,” her mother said, yawning. Amanda switched her phone to the other ear and tucked it against her shoulder as she shoved nearly every pair of clean underwear she owned into her weekend bag. She’d texted her mom plenty. Her dad too, but thanks to the time difference and her schedule she hadn’t caught her parents on the phone in over two weeks. She was packing to flee the crime scene that had become her life, when her mom sent her a text asking for the password to the Hulu streaming account they shared. Amanda had no clue how she managed, but her mom seemed to log out every time she touched the remote.

“It’s just the house number, the landline with an exclamation point at the end. All together.” Amanda had set the password one day when she was feeling particularly lonesome. She’d settled on the first phone number and one of the few she still had committed to memory. Thinking of something she and her parents would both remember with ease made her homesick and a little nostalgic. And yet, her mom couldn’t remember it for shit. Amanda didn’t mind. She welcomed the excuse to be in touch with a part of the world that didn’t involve call times and scripts. Especially after the week she’d had, a week she refused to think about now that it was over. It was done. It had happened. She wasn’t going to stress herself out by reliving it.

“Okay, let me try that.” Her mom recited the password quietly to herself, then let out a little gasp of victory. “I’m in.”

“What are you going to watch?”

“This blacksmithing competition show.”

“Oh really?” Amanda laughed.

“One of the judges is rather dreamy. I told your father and he got all upset. I told him I was going to get you to introduce me to him if he didn’t quit sulking.”

“Mom,” Amanda laughed. “Please leave your poor husband alone.”

“He’s mine. I can tease him all I want.”

“Relationship goals.”

“Damn straight. So you said you’re going out?”

“Um, yeah. A friend of mine has—well, his family has a ranch outside of the city and he invited me for the weekend.”

“Oh? A friend or a friend friend?” Her mom had given up on the dream of planning a wedding years ago, but anytime Amanda mentioned anyone of the opposite sex, her mom starting thinking of good times for them to meet at Kleinfeld’s.

“Just a friend, Mom.”

“You’re going to stay with a friend on Valentine’s Day weekend?”