I’m almost—almost—glad that Noah’s around. Like I have a sliver of gladness, nothing too crazy. A milligram’s worth, maybe, because he definitely makes the days go by faster, and it makes my day easier.
Now that I can have him out front in the shop and actually conversing with people even though he thinks his French sucks, he takes the ego hit and deals with customers, as well as moving all the heavy boxes and dealing with the mundane tasks if one of our university students’ availability falls through.
Which happens more often than not as midterm season looms closer and closer during what feels like the entire month of February.
Noah has an exceptionally good memory, I’ve noticed (not that I’d tell him that to his face; this is a partnership of convenience and nothing more). I only had
