Isobel drove Evan home that night. There was nothing at the hospital for him anymore, so there was no reason to stay.

She brought him to his little house, and helped him bring his things inside. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. She stood just off to the side. After a minute, he asked, "Would you come sit?"

She did sit with him. Everything felt so raw. Hanging in the air was that old question: What do we do now?

It felt like there was no answer. No idea of what they should be doing. Isobel sure didn't have any clue. Where do you even go from something like this? She supposed a funeral had to be arranged, or a memorial service. She figured people had to be notified, but she wasn't even sure who those people were.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked.

"I . . . I don't know. I would say we should call people, but I don't think anyone will really care. Let Craig and Maura know and they can handle that part. Letting people know."

Isobel nodded. "Yeah. I can do that."

"I need . . . I need to sleep, I think. I haven't slept in a while."

"Yeah, go for it," she said. "Sleep."

He looked at her. His green eyes were glassy, with no shine or sparkle. "Do you think that you could stay?"

She smiled. "Sure."

He leaned against her, his head on her shoulder. She rested her cheek against his hair. It was silent in the little cottage.

"Should we have done something differently?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Gotten the doctor faster? Thrown a fit, started yelling?"

"They would have just kicked us out."

Evan thought.

"Suppose you'll have to start working with a new client."

"Well, no. I was warned by another girl that when someone's client dies, they usually get fired. So . . . I will probably have to find another job."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Isobel felt like some kind of conversation had ended. She wasn't quite sure what the conversation was, exactly.

She put her arm around Evan's shoulder and pulled him so that when she laid on her back, he laid with her. His head was on her arm, and while it was heavy, it wasn't uncomfortable. They were both so tired. Adulthood and responsibility, and the toll of grief and what they had just gone through, were weighing on both of them.

After laying for a little while, Isobel slid her arm out from under Evan's head and sat up. She reached into her shirt and unclasped her bra, slipping her arms out from her shirt and sweater. Yanking her bra out, she tossed it on the floor and stood up, unbuttoning her jeans. Whatever they had to do, they could do it tomorrow.

Evan dressed down too, and they climbed into bed together. He slid his arms around her, and she nestled into his chest. Sleep came faster for him than it did for her. Laying awake and vaguely uncomfortable, Isobel had a lot of time to think about what had happened that night.

It was so bizarre, to think that Glory was gone. It was hard to fathom that she would no longer be able to work with her anymore, or spend time with her, or watch her turn hand spun into beautiful blankets. It was hard to imagine that she would no longer be able to even speak to her, or have a conversation again.

What did it mean for her and Evan, if they no longer had that tie that bound them together in the first place? Did they even have a reason to stay together, really?

Evan grunted in his sleep, and turned over, letting Isobel go. But that was only the start. He tossed and he turned, and Isobel eventually had to abandon the bed entirely. He just would not stay still long enough for her to get comfortable.

She went to the kitchenette to get a glass of water and looked over at the red and white bedspread that Evan had balled up in his nightmare struggle. She wasn't sure if she should wake him up or not. Her younger sister had once had night terrors, and she had been told not to wake her from them. She wasn't sure if the same principal still applied.

The couch was cleaned off, so she grabbed a new blanket from a pile on an old steamer trunk and she curled up on it. She figured if Evan really needed her, she would know.

Before she knew it, she was waking up again, and it was morning. Bright, clean light shone in through the windows, and landed in squares across Evan's back. He was deep asleep.

She sat up quietly and carefully. Evan needed the sleep, she was sure. She picked up her phone and looked at it. Tanya had texted her about a hundred times, and Isobel texted her back with the news. The return text promised food within the hour, which was actually a bit late. Isobel had missed her morning class.

Walking over to the bed, she put her hand on Evan's back, and rubbed big wide circles over his skin. "Hey, Evan," she said. "Tanya is bringing food. You should wake up soon."

He opened his eyes and stared at her through them. He grunted, "Do I have to?"

"You don't have to, but I think maybe you should."

* * *

Isobel walked into the house, and called, "Evan! I'm here!"

Wandering through the house, she took note of all the chores that needed to be done. She sighed a little and shook her head. He hadn't done anything at all.

Then again, he was pretty shattered.

When she finally found Evan, he was asleep on the couch upstairs. Isobel saw all the beer and whiskey bottles around him and sighed. God, could he take care of himself?

She went downstairs to see to the chores that needed to be taken care of. She took the trash out. She washed the few dishes in the sink, though it was kind of obvious that he hadn't been eating much. Probably only drinking. Luckily beer was calorie-intensive.

When she went back upstairs, she found that Evan was waking up, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He looked at her with bleary eyes, and she smiled. "Hey."

"Hey."

She sat on the coffee table near him. "I took care of the business downstairs. Took out the trash and whatever."

"Oh, thanks. I . . . I hadn't thought about it."

"I know."

"Why are you here?"

Isobel shrugged, knowing what he had meant by the question, but Evan still winced. "No, no, wait, I'm sorry. Hang on. That sounded rude. I didn't mean it that way. I meant, um . . . How are you?"

She smiled. "I'm fine. How are you?"

"Not great," he said with a snort.

"I'm not lecturing you or anything, but it kind of looks like you've been drinking a lot."

"Yeah."

"Have you eaten anything?"

"I think I had ramen yesterday."

"Do you want me to make you something?"

Evan nodded. "Yeah, please. I . . . I know I need to eat."

He stood up and wobbled a little bit, but Isobel went ahead of him down the stairs in case he fell. She was used to that kind of thing. He sat at the kitchen table while she dug around in the fridge for something easy. She ended up throwing a pile of vegetables into a pan with a jar of spaghetti sauce and some pasta. When it was done, she doused it in cheese and brought the whole pan to the table, serving both of them. Evan said, "Thank you, Isobel."

Isobel couldn't help but feel a tension in the air.

"Have you been alone?" she asked.

"Tanya brought me a pizza the day before yesterday."

"Oh, that's good."

"I think it's in my house."

Isobel said, "Oh."

"Yeah. I forgot about it after she left."

Isobel got up and went out to Evan's house. The door was unlocked, and just as he'd said, there was a whole pizza in the box, untouched except for the one slice that Tanya had probably eaten. Isobel's shirt was still on the floor, a reminder of the first time they had slept together.

When she went back into the house, Evan was eating straight out of the pan. Isobel chuckled, and he said, "I am actually starving all of a sudden."

"Eat!"

He did. Between the two of them, they cleaned out the pan, and then they went upstairs and each of them had a beer. Evan laid on Isobel's shoulder, and she teased his hair as they watched a movie on her computer.

Evan said, "I'm glad you came over."

She smiled too. "So am I. You have free beer."

"Well, free for you."

At some point, he fell asleep, and so did she. It was an uneasy, uncomfortable sleep for her, but for Evan, it was obvious that it was the first peaceful sleep he'd had in a while.

At some point in the night, he woke up, and kissed her until she woke up. When she did, she smiled, and leaned into his kiss.

He tugged her down so that she laid on the couch beneath him, and he kissed her again. He kissed her throat and nipped at her ears. Pulling down her shirt, he kissed her breasts and sucked on her nipples, but Isobel couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. It felt good, but neither of them was into it. She pushed him gently away, turning his face to look at her.

"What? What's wrong?"

She had a pretty good idea of what it was. There was nothing going on at the crotch of his pajamas.

He huffed angrily and climbed off of her, sitting with his elbows on his knees. She sat up, pulling her bra back up, then fixing her shirt.

"Evan, what is it?"

"I can't . . . I can't get into it."

"I didn't come over for sex. I came over because I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Evan glanced at her, but he clearly wasn't appeased.

"No, really, Love, it's okay—" she began, until abruptly, it occurred to her what the problem might really be after all. "Oh. Wait. You want sex."

"Apparently, I don't."

"It's okay, I'm sure it happens."

"I just don't want to have to think."

Isobel furrowed her brows. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of being used like that, to help Evan forget. She said, "You're gonna have to think sometime."

He got up and started pacing. Isobel sat up. She felt like she should just leave. She wondered if she should try harder to make the sex work, if forgetting for a minute was better for him, but she knew it was better to stick to her guns. She was not a sex object. She was not going to help him hide from this.

"Evan, have you even arranged the funeral yet?"

He stopped pacing. He looked at her. "No."

Isobel raised her eyebrows, and then stood up. She'd gone cold. "You've been drinking for four days, and haven't made a single funeral arrangement?"

"No. I . . . I can't."

Isobel went downstairs. She looked at her watch. It was still pretty early in the afternoon, there was probably time. She got into Evan's car, which looked a little abused, and found the paperwork from the hospital.

She brought it upstairs, and went to go get Evan's phone. When she found that, it was full of voice mails and messages which hadn't been answered. Some from her.

Pushing Evan down into the armchair, she said, "Evan Paul Lockwood, you are going to call right NOW and arrange a memorial service for your grandmother at the church. You are going to call the morgue and let them know that they can go ahead and cremate Glory. And then you are going to take a shower, and I'm going home. After you're done with your shower, you can go fuck yourself, because I am not going to sit here and be a hole for you to throw your problems into. Quit being such a coward!"

Evan looked at her with his mouth slightly agape. He looked like he couldn't believe what she had just said. He closed his mouth for a second, then opened it and said, "When should I ask to have the memorial?"

"Thursday at six."

"Okay."