We stayed that way for a long moment. Long enough for Imogen to fall asleep.

For the snoring apocalypse to commence.

I lost interest in the movie. Buddy Borden’s body count was already in the double digits. I instead found myself transfixed by the large living room clock on the wall. As the minute hand clicked on fourteen, and the second hand tick-tick-ticked closer to the infinite, irrational number between fifteen and sixteen.

Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen…

Sixteen.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Glanced from Willow to Imogen to myself. I wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously. But mostly, I just felt breathless from the anticipation.

My phone vibrated on the coffee table. From where I sat, I could see the caller.

Wynonna fucking Jones.

I quietly reached, struggling not to disturb Imogen. My fingers splayed, tracing the edges of the phone.

Grabbed it.

I gently leaned back into the sofa. Imogen stirred slightly, adjusted, then fell back into a deep snoring trance.

I pressed the answer button.

“Hey,” said Wynonna quietly. Like she knew Imogen and Willow were sleeping on the other end. Or maybe Holden was asleep where she was. Who knew? “Just wanted to make sure you were still alive. Also, to hear your voice. If that’s not weird. It probably is. Whatever. Fuck you.”

I laughed. “Hey, Wynonna.”

“Okay, well… that’s good enough for me. Sleep tight, Slevin. If you can manage that much.”

“Good night, Wynonna.”

She hung up.

I set the phone in my lap.

And I fell asleep.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS