"Oh!" Joyce blinks several times, her smile appearing slightly strained and she exhales. "I'm fine, Hop," she lies, her voice cracking a bit.

"I'm tough." That was not a lie. "How is El? I've been meaning to visit, but my house is still a disaster area." She reaches a hand and places it over the one he has resting on the counter for a moment. The gesture felt natural to her. Even when Bob was alive, she and Hopper seemed magnetically drawn to one another, giving little touches on the hand, the elbow, the back -- gestures meant to convey comfort, guidance and caring. Not the same touches that were charged with electric need when they were younger, but just as vital.