He reached up, his palm bumping against the edge of the pocket where his phone weighed down the fabric of his shirt.

“Ideas to show I’m thoughtful,” Abraham said, and clearly he was repeating that last word straight from the mouth of Sally.

Will swallowed, thinking again about Nora behind that tiny desk that she wasn’t ready to change. He’d been thoughtful, hadn’t he? He’d watched Nora all these weeks—even in the weeks before he’d ever been in her bed—and he’d known, even when he was fighting with her, that her vise grip on the building was about something more than her concern for her neighbors. And now that he knew her better, now that he’d been in her space—he’d tried to be thoughtful, to help her in this project she hadn’t even admitted the full extent of to herself. Towel rods, faucets, whatever she wanted. He’d helped.

But he’d also never taken her out. He’d gone over to her place in the dark of night and left before dawn. He’d never lingered, not since that very first time.

He had a feeling Sally would not approve, though he wasn’t sure why that bothered him so much.

“Let me think about it,” he said to Dr. Abraham. “I’ll find you later.”

“Fine.”

Will watched him go, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside him. Taking Nora out, that’d be good. A break from routine. Giving her a little relief from her place, where work and home were the same spot—that was helping, too. It’s not like he was trying to (re)marry her or something, and anyway, Nora was as clear on the boundaries for this as he was. Hell, she might even say no; she might tell him to come over with a can of paint and to quit asking weird questions.

But it couldn’t hurt to ask.

He slid his phone out again, saw her latest message there. Same time? it read.

Before he could reconsider, he typed his reply.

Up for a change of plans?

Nora had her beach face on.

He hadn’t taken her to the beach, not again, because once he had the idea in his head—to take her out, to take her on a date—he definitely didn’t want to Abraham-botch it and make it some kind of routine. And while he hadn’t spent many of his years in Chicago—his residency, first, and then his fellowship, and now his current job—exploring places like this, he’d certainly been around long enough to pick up on what people around here thought was worth doing.

And judging by Nora’s smile, the Garfield Park Conservatory was worth doing.