Soon, I have a free space to put the books, and I arrange them in size order. They barely fill half the shelf—I should’ve bought more—but I must admit I like them there. It feels right, somehow. Homier.
Huh. Amazing how much cheer you can buy for a couple bucks.
Pippin isn’t back when it’s time to leave for work, but I scribble a note and add my phone number. We haven’t exchanged numbers; we’ve had no reason to do it before. Now, I regret not asking him this morning, so I could text him and make sure he’s okay.
I fold the clean clothes and put them in a neat pile on the breakfast bar. On top of them, I lay his book and tuck the note between the pages, so it won’t fall to the floor, while still making sure it sticks out enough for him to see it.
As I get into my truck, I force all thoughts of him out of my head and focus on work, hoping that I’ll have a quiet night at the airport without any emergencies that need a plumber.
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