The best friend came out for a trip that lasted only hours into days and we remembered.  The trips before, the people we've known, the things we've done.  And we were something new this time, we were hours on the air mattress in the living room shopping couches and chairs while listening to House Hunters, we were happy to stay in making dinner and breakfast and coffees, we were a long conversation that did not end until we were back at the curb and she climbed out with her backpack to go home to a man she will marry in one month and I pulled away, staying in the city for the rest of the day until going home to little things that were startlingly quiet: the rumpled mattress on the floor, the pile of cherry sours and chocolates and plums on the table, dirty dishes by the sink and the coffee mugs- everywhere.