“Have you tried turning it off and on again?” I asked sarcastically. The impatient grumble on the other end informed me that my customer did not share my fondness of a certain dorky British comedy revolving around a group of IT workers. “Kidding. What’s the code in the bottom right-hand corner of your unit screen? I’ll take a look on my end.” The work kept my mind off my encounter with Reese that morning and the associated memories. As I finished up with my last client, I powered down the computer and headed upstairs, the faint smell of coffee and syrup indicating my mother and baby brother were awake.
“How was work?” she asked when I entered the kitchen, grabbing a cup to fill with the orange juice on the granite countertop. Gage regarded me before continuing the devouring of pancakes, h
