LEXIE
The morning started with Mr. Harlan in a mood, not his usual grumpy-but-manageable mood, the kind where he moved through the store like a storm front, reorganizing things that didn't need reorganizing and sighing heavily at shelves that had done nothing wrong.
I watched him rearrange the cold medicine section for the third time and decided the kindest thing I could do was stay on the opposite side of the store and restock the vitamins with great focus and dedication. "You're avoiding me," he said without turning around.
"I'm giving you space," I said. "There's a difference."
"Hmph."
"Also the vitamin section genuinely needed attention so I'm being productive and emotionally intelligent at the same time. It's a gift."
He turned around then and looked at me over his glasses with
