"Well, I don't like your rules," she says, but she's smiling as she pours a cup of tea for both of them, then brings them over to the living room. She's careful to set them both on the table before she flops down on the couch, sinking into the cushions. Lately she's spent a lot of nights here on the couch, a blanket pulled up around her shoulders, Jeff sleeping at her feet. It's just easier to sleep out here with the TV on.

"I like it here way too much. I've got you and Harley and my stupid dog and a nice guy I'm pretty sure likes me," she says. "And a future, maybe. I always felt so directionless back there."