She picked me up in her rental. She was prettier in person, and seemed somehow calmer, more collected. The air of performance that had permeated even our private conversations was gone. I hate to say it, but I was jealous.

Our conversations started slow. She wanted to hug me, but didn't, knowing I would probably have started freaking out without the warning. (It was true, to be fair.)

We met Baby in his usual spot, a few blocks from my old house. I prayed she wouldn't find my house, but she didn't even look. Baby liked her, which surprised me. Mary laughed at me when he rubbed his face against her, like she had beaten me at my own game. It wasn't cruel. It was gentle, in the way she always was.

The whole day was a blur. I know I kept laughing, but I can't even remember why. Mary has a nice laugh. Then again, I think everyone does.

And, before I knew it, it was sunset.