The walk took thirty seconds but felt momentous. Three houses. Might as well be three miles.
Tyler knocked. "We brought dinner!"
The door flew open. Meg stood there in her moving clothes—which were just her regular clothes since she'd moved two suitcases—trying very hard not to look emotional.
"You brought dinner?"
"And plates," Stella added. "And napkins. And Herbert for a consultation visit."
Meg looked at their supply pile and started laughing. "You know this place has a fully stocked kitchen, right? Like, fancy everything?"
"These are comfort plates," Tyler said with dignity. "Totally different thing."
"Of course. How thoughtless of me." Meg stepped aside, definitely not crying. "Get in here with your comfort plates. I was just contemplating cereal in Mom’s old bowls."
They spread out in the kitchen, the table big enough for three with room for more.
“This is nice,” Stella said, looking around. “Very... adult.”
They ate pizza in her old house as they all quietly surveyed the new space.
Stella suddenly stood up, carrying Herbert to the window. "Herbert needs light," she said solemnly. "Meg's house has better windows. He told me."
"Herbert doesn't talk," Tyler protested.
"You're just not listening right." Stella placedHerbert on Meg's windowsill with ceremony. "See? Look how happy he is."
"Traitor," Tyler muttered, but he was fighting a smile.
"Herbert's made his choice," Meg said. "I promise to give him excellent light and only occasional conversations about my problems."
"That's all he asks for," Stella confirmed, returning to her pizza.
“Your office setup looks good,” Tyler said, having wandered through to check.
“All two suitcases worth,” Meg agreed.
“And my stapler.”
“Our stapler now. Herbert and I have adopted it.”
As they prepared to leave, Stella lingered in the doorway. “So like... we can come over? Even if we just need to borrow back our stuff?”
“Anytime,” Meg assured her. “Even if you just need to visit Herbert.”
“Cool. That’s... cool.”
Walking back, Tyler felt the weight of change. Three doors suddenly seemed like a significant distance. Tomorrow they’d have to figure out breakfast without Meg’s careful choreography. Tomorrow he’d have to actually cook something.
“That was nice,” Stella said as they reached home. “The pizza thing.”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe we could do it regularly? Or take turns?”
“Like shared custody of dinner?”
“Exactly like that.”
