We're having a party.

Thomas and Hannah met on a hot Houston summer night at the apartment of officiants Justine Palacios and Michael Razeeq. He had sweated through his signature grey t-shirt; she was drinking Kentucky bourbon out of a pint glass while picking out funeral songs with Michael. Thomas seemed to revel in the heat, a fact that intrigued Hannah, who is prone to sunburns. The chance meeting slipped her mind after she polished off her beverage, but months later, they ran into each other again at the Kung Fu Saloon. Thomas was encouraged, albeit slightly confused, by her laughter at his jokes, so he invited her to his office holiday party. She agreed. And he started coming over each week to regale her with his accounting exploits. That was about it, though. Hannah was a single dog mom who was focused on raising June, and Thomas wasn't looking for anything serious. They drifted apart. Until one night when Hannah wanted a negroni. No one else shared her love of gin, honed in college with friends Luke and Marty. No one, that is, except Thomas. Maybe, they thought over drinks in Midtown, there really was something there. Thomas started inviting Hannah over for dinner because she didn't cook anything except eggs. As he chopped, she told him about how she spent a lot of time alone in the woods while growing up in Maine. There were more dinners. Weeks later she left Thomas' house, where he was holding a "Safety Committee Meeting" on the porch with Tabor St. Mayor Chris Berland, for soccer playoffs. Despite being unathletic, The Dreamsicles pulled out a come-from-behind first round win. She texted Thomas. Outside waiting for the next match, Hannah looked up to see him coming toward her on his bike with the leopard print seat cover. One story she shared about her childhood was that her dad came to (almost) every game she ever played. Thomas remembered. As he pedaled toward her, Hannah realized they would probably wind up married. He has come to (almost) every game since then.