Arthur poured them both a healthy (well, large) amount of firewhiskey and offered a glass to Ben. He sat on the other side of the couch and took a sip, wishing that the letter had more context - or that there hadn't been a letter at all. It was the planned nature of the drop-in that had him feeling off kilter, and now he didn't know what to say.

Talking about Melody, though - that was familiar, and Arthur leaned back against the couch comfortably, maybe a little relieved.

"I meant to check in," Art said, with a sheepish grin, because he had, "And that's good, right? That sounds good." It at least meant that things weren't as terrible, and probably that Melody Crouch wasn't going to get a secret abortion.

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