“Because she said it wouldn’t be the right thing to do to your grandfather.”

“But . . . ,” Nora said tentatively. “He was . . . dead?”

Marian widened her eyes, pursed her lips, and swept her hands out, palms up, in a gesture that began by encompassing the sofa, and then expanded to what was, Nora assumed, the whole entire apartment. This expression said, I hope I don’t have to waste any more of my time on this.

“I’m going to change the apartment,” she asserted, though she was in fact very surprised to hear Marian’s feelings about that wallpaper. “I am. Already I started working on the bathroom.”

“Great,” Marian said, though she didn’t really seem that impressed. “Of course you had help. From a very helpful person, who also did not want you living in a tomb for the rest of your life.”

Nora winced. Not so much at the tomb imagery (although that was very unpleasant!), but more at the thought of Will at the hospital—all day yesterday, when she wasn’t there. All last night, when she was. God, she had been such a jerk this morning.

She rubbed her hands over her face. The kettle started to rumble, and Marian stood, returning to the kitchen and making tea while Nora stared down at her lap and thought about calling Will.

When Marian returned, she looked over the lip of the mug and stared at Nora while she sipped. When she pulled it away from her mouth she said, “I didn’t say I was making it for you.”

Nora shook her head and laughed softly. “I love you, Marian,” she said, because she really, really did.

“I love you too, doll. But you were definitely wrong to send that man away.” She sipped her tea again. “I can’t really believe I said that, but here we are.”

She could have let it go there; she could have sat in the silence with Marian and contemplated her stubbornness until she got up the courage to call up Will and apologize for the way she’d acted. Marian was probably going to sit here until she did it, actually.

But telling Marian she loved her, and knowing Marian would say it right back—it reminded her of the bigger problem she didn’t quite know how to solve. She could get rid of this couch; she could clear out Nonna’s bedroom; she could leave her job. She could maybe even deal with Jonah having to go somewhere else. But could she deal with it if . . .

“He’s not really a sure thing,” she blurted. “Will, I mean.”

Marian raised her eyebrows. “What’s he been doing over here all night, then?”

Nora clapped her hands over her face, groaning. “I don’t mean that! My goodness, Marian!”

“Exactly like her,” Marian said, rolling her eyes. “Like what, then?”