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Yulia looked at him hard, hands framing his face.

“I don’t want to forget what your eyes looked like, when you were like this. If anything happens.”

“You could take a picture.” Walt grinned.

“It’s not the same.”

They took her binder of instructions and bag of ingredients.

“Thank you for this, Yulia. You’re a real pal.”

Hollis kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Yulia,” he echoed.

Yulia opened her front door for them.

“My dad helped out a little. He wasn’t exactly... happy, but he loves you, Hollis. He did say something about how you shouldn’t be in the room when it happens, for safety or something,” she said. “Not that we know enough about this to be giving out advice.... My dad’s smart, but we’re all just making conjectures.

“Anyway, I hope you don’t immediately get sucked into hell, Walt. You’re a really good dancer.”

Walt threw their head back and laughed, full and throaty.

“I’ll try my best, ma’am.”

Yulia scrunched her nose.

“If everything goes all right, you should come to Annie’s after. We might be asleep, but you’re welcome to pile in. Tomorrow morning, my dad wants to talk to you; he’s taking us to brunch in the city.”

“We in trouble?” Hollis asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Depends on your definition of it.” Yulia smiled, fond. “Get off my porch, Hollis Brown. And good luck.”