[Dated Late August]

[silverhammer]

Most of the time, it's Lucy coming around to see him, instead of the other way around. She says she's not checking up on him or anything, but he's known his sister too long to believe that. After all, she was the one who visited him in the hospital more than anyone else, even when he was almost about to get out and insisted she didn't have to.

Either way, this is a momentous occasion, a day that needs to be commemorated. Because Max has just been by the taxi stand, he's got the night off, and he's holding in his hands his very first paycheck. He's finally not under the thumb of their own personal Daddy Warbucks, and if that's not something worth celebrating, Max isn't too sure what is.

"Hey Luce," Max calls, knocking on the door to her apartment, "Come on, open up, I know you're home."

Comments

[radicalize]

Exhaustion is nothing new for Lucy. She goes until she can't anymore, throws herself into something (or many things) because it's easier that way, single-minded focus keeping her from getting too caught up in her own head. This time, she isn't nearly as frazzled as she could be, mostly because she's lived with and taken care of a small child before, but it's different now. Whereas Sam knew her already, Jake doesn't, and she needs to find her footing with him, needs him to know that she isn't going anywhere. Juggling that with the classes she wants to take and the jobs she's thought about applying to has left her barely able to stop for a moment. She doesn't mind it that way, but it's still true, no matter how self-imposed.

Even so, despite knowing it's been with good reason that she's been busy, she still feels a stab of guilt when she hears Max's voice from the other side of the door. For days now she's been meaning to stop by, and she just hasn't gotten to, and that doesn't feel right, not when she's still just so goddamn grateful to have him here. For now, at least, it's just as well. She can tell him about everything that's happened just as easily from her apartment as his.

Pushing her hair back from her face as she pulls the door open, she smiles at the sight of him, warm and genuine. "How did you know I was home?" she asks, more teasing than accusatory, even as she stands aside to let him in. "What would you have done if I wasn't? My neighbors would probably have thought you were crazy."